By John W. Vander Velden
Benjamin sat at the fireside, adding a bit of wood to the small fire that burned late into the night…behind his daughter’s home.
The fire alive it seemed as the yellow-orange tongues hungrily licked the new fuel.
A soft hiss could be heard among the pops and crackle.
Ben looked across the flames to the form of a young man lying.
A grandson he never knew, Mitchell, watching the man, a stranger to him, tending the fire.
How much Mitchell resembled Joshua, the boy’s uncle.
So many years had past.
A clear night…camping beneath the stars…just the two of them…Joshua then as Mitchell now…ten.
Benjamin could not help but stare.
The shape of Mitchell’s face…the set of his eyes.
Had time bent?
Ben swallowed as eyes met.
It seemed the past meshed with the present, yet neither spoke.
With a stick the old man stirred the coals, for a moment both man and boy watched, as the brilliant flecks swirling upward disappeared into the night sky.
Ben focused on the stars above unaware of other things.
“There’s a lot of stars.”
Was it Mitchell’s voice or the memory of words heard then?
Shocked, he looked to see the boy facing heavenward.
Benjamin closed his eyes, then looking down to the fire, swallowed, sharing the same words of so long before, “Yes there are.”
The words seemed silly now… They seemed silly then.
It had been Margaret’s idea…this time alone…in the night…with the boy.
Wise perhaps, a just means to become acquainted.
But did she realize just how much Mitchell resembled her brother.
Benjamin shook his head.
That was long ago and far away.
What riff had separated?
It was more than distance.
Blame and guilt such powerful allies and time of little aid.
Margaret had turned her back, and he had not reached out.
She had not believed others, that her father was faultless that day, nor had he.
The day the world changed.
The day mother, wife, son and brother were torn from their lives.
Benjamin, with life incomplete, continued empty days…long months…endless years until a call.
A voice so familiar Ben had wept at its sound.
Come she had begged.
Now here in the dark…hopeful…a weak smile on trembling lips.
The past unchangeable but perhaps a future possible.
Looking at the boy, Ben wondered.
Would there be a place in Mitchell’s busy life for him?
Could something be built out of the ashes long ago cooled and blown away?
Was it not too late?
No, Benjamin had another chance…
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