The Best and Worst Day Of My Life

 

The big Ford tractor sat silent in the middle of the field where it had stopped. Fellow farmers and neighbors stood around it, all at their wits end for an answer to the problem. It refused to start. No amount of tinkering would bring it back to life.

Icy winds blew across the slight elevation of the field as the men pulled their collars up closer around their ears against the chill. They were perplexed by the problem.

Hungry cows lined up along the fence calling out, anxiously waiting for a bale of hay. They were sure it would soon be placed in front of them, taking note that people were near the tractor. They knew all too well that the loud barroom of it's motor when smoke rolled out of the stack, meant food would soon be put out for them. And they were hungry, it was freezing.

Patience was not a virtue owned by cattle in the cold of winter when grass was scarce. Food being the only fuel they were accommodated to keep warm. We can flip the thermostat up; cows depend on their furnace within, fueled by food.

Finally, it was agreed that the tractor company had to be called. The men gathered behind a huge round bale of hay, to roll it out by hand through the gate where the cows stood waiting. My husband made the dreaded call. The last resort of a farmer, the bill would be quite expensive.

The next morning the mechanic called, getting me out of bed to tell me he was on the way. He was early. I gave him directions while I stumbled into my clothes, boots and gloves, to meet him at the field and usher him in. Several gates had to be opened and the cows dealt with, curious creatures that they are, while he maneuvered his truck through them into the field. He drove and I walked, holding the cows back with a wave of my hand.

He began his work on the tractor while I stood by and watched. The brisk morning air sent shivers through me. I'm not much help on the mechanical end of things, especially when it's cold. The mechanic would call me over to ask questions occasionally and I would do my best to answer. I needed to go to the house to get a tool he didn't bring with him. Okay, I drive the two miles home to fetch it, feeling a little irritated that I had to supply a tool. Not to mention I had to deal with the cows again. After all, he was getting paid an should have supplied his own tools.

I put my hand on the door at home; their was a card stuck in the crack from the sheriff. A gasp escaped from my mouth. A note written on the back to 'call asap' sent fear through me. I felt weak and sick to my stomach. My rubbery knees wanted to bend. Was it my kids? My husband who was at work? Who was hurt; or worse.

It couldn't be good news. With shaking hands I dialed the number on the card. Anxious, yet dreading whatever news the call could tell me.

The officer that left the card, informed me that my brother had died in the night. He extended his sympathies and gave me the number that had been given to him. My hands shook so hard, I had to rewrite it several times in order to read it.

My brother. Gone. How could this have have happened? Too soon, I'm not prepared. A deep sorrow filled my heart. Not only by his death, but for the lost years between us.

Somehow, I thanked the officer and hung up. Tears blinded me as I searched for the tool I came to get. I had no choice but to continue the path I had begun the day with. My brain searched for a calming point. I couldn't find one. Every thought in my head banged against the next one, interrupting anything lucid that came to mind.

I had not seen or heard from my brothers, sadly, in many years. They didn't know I had moved, which is why the sheriff's office was called. Fortunately, I am in good standing at the local sheriffs office, so they knew where to find me.

Cell phone in hand I crawled back in the truck. Shaking so much, I slipped and skinned my shin. The pain in my leg is nothing. The pain in my heart is overpowering as I drive through blurry eyes.

I drove into the field with no regard to the gates, leaving them open behind me. I didn't care. As I hand him the tool, he notices the tears flowing down my face and turns away, respectfully.

“Are you okay?” he asked tentatively. He must have had a name, I'm not sure. I can't think. Nothing makes sense.

Barely able to nod, I get back in the truck and dial the number the officer had given me. Wait! I can't do this. I can't just call after so many years. Not yet.

I have no choice; I let it ring. How I would be received kept going through my head. Dread and fear, robbing me of my usual calm. It didn't occur to me at that moment that he had made the effort to find me. My brother wanted to make the connection, he didn't have to. Pictures flew through my mind like the shutter of a camera in speed mode. Children, teenagers, weddings...

My brothers, so long ago.

The ringing stops; my youngest brother answers.

“Hello.”

A flood of love poured over me at the sound of his voice, along with a tsunami of tears. All the stupid wasted years melted away. I love him so much, nothing else mattered at that moment.

The two of us; all that's left of our family. Reunited through the loss of our brother. His sweet words warmed my soul as we cried together. For the loss of our brother and the unspoken knowledge that we could be together again without recrimination. Family.

The best and worst day of my life.

After several hours the blue machine roared again. Black smoke shot from the stack, alerting the cows that a buffet would soon be on the way. They bellowed and mooed, telling me they were thankful to hear the sweet roar once again.

Angel Tears

Toby gently reached beneath the layers of tissue paper in the box. Hidden beneath the folds, laid the Christmas Angel. A cherubic face, surrounded by golden curls. Her dress laid in folds, made of sheer white chiffon.

Carefully, he picked her up in his chubby eight year old hands, smiling. His mother had cherished the angel, and carefully placed it on the tree each year. A tradition that Toby wanted to respect and follow. He remembered the look on his mother's face, as she stood back and looked up at the angel. Then she would kneel beside him, pulling him close to her. She told him every year, the story of how her grandmother had made the angel when she was a little girl, just for her. Now she belonged to both of them.

Toby held the angel gently, bringing it out of the box. When he had taken it almost beyond the clinging tissue paper, he saw bits of the dress lying in the box. Turning it over, he discovered the entire back of her dress, along with the feathered wings, were gone. Eaten completely away; by mice. The beautiful angel was tattered now, no longer whole.

The child was devastated. Tears fell down his cheeks, while his chest heaved with sorrow. His mother's cherished angel was destroyed. Toby couldn't believe, that her beloved angel wouldn't sit on the top of the tree this year, or ever again.

When his father realized that Toby was sitting on the floor holding the angel, his body heaving with the sounds of loss, he sat beside him. Taking the angel from the little hands clutching it, he now knew why his son was crying. Toby's mother had only been gone a year. For the angel to be gone too, was more than his child could bear. He put his arms around him, sitting him in his lap. Toby cried while his father rocked him, back and fourth, until he fell asleep. His father placed him on the sofa, to dream away the sadness in his heart.

The angel laid in front of the tree. Mangled and torn, no longer the elegant white beacon, to smile above the the twinkling lights below.

Toby's father picked it up and sighed. He had no idea how to make this better for Toby. He knew all too well how important this was to his son, but he was lost as to a way to fix it. He took the box and the angel and put it in the laundry room. He couldn't bring himself to throw it away. He wasn't man enough for that, tears in his own eyes; shutting off the light.

Later that day, he told Toby they would go buy a new one. Toby shook his head. His lips were drawn into a tight line. No other angel would do. In his mind, she could never be replaced.

Toby went to bed that night with a heavy heart. All the joy of decorating the tree, gone from the little boy and the father too.
Toby played in his room for the next few days, staying far away from the tree that stood in darkness. Hundreds of tiny white lights, waited to shine. Toby and his father couldn't bring themselves to turn them on.

A few days later, it began to snow. Harder and harder it came down. Blanketing the neighborhood in velvety white powder. Standing at the window watching it, Toby seemed to perk up a bit. Soon he was ready to go out and play in it. He dressed in all of his warmest clothes. Yellow rubber boots tromped through the snow, leaving his prints to follow him. He delighted in watching his own footprints. His smile and laughter tickling the air, as snowflakes touched his tongue and landed on his eyelashes.

His father watched from the window as his son began to laugh. Seeing the sparkle in Toby's eyes, gave him new spirit too. He soon dressed and joined his son in the snow. They built a snowman, giving him holly berries for eyes and a nose. A stick from the tree, created a crooked smile. Toby's father took off his red scarf, placing it around the snowman's chubby neck.

Toby tried to put his own wet mittens on him, but they slipped off every time. Darkness and cold began to fall upon them. His father picked him up and turned toward the house.
He almost dropped Toby, when he saw the lights from the tree in the window, glistening over the snow. Toby slowly slid down his father's legs, to stand beside his him in awe. The tree lights twinkled brightly through the big front window, creating a bright glow on the snow.

After a few minutes, they went into the house; with trepidation. There in front of them, stood the most beautiful tree. Twinkling lights and shiny balls, with his mother's angel sitting at the top. Her wings were regal again, her dress complete, elegantly flowing down the branches. Her hands were folded, as if in prayer.

Toby walked over to the tree, staring up at the angel. A smile encompassed his face, tears moistened his eyes. He turned to his father with a questioning look. His father shook his head, kneeling beside his son. Together they admired the angel, as she once again adorned their tree.

Toby sighed, she was watching over them again. Just the way she had for every Christmas of his whole life. He knew in his heart who had made her whole again. For Toby, there was only one person that could have put the angel on their tree.

Many years later, Toby ran into their old housekeeper while Christmas shopping. She hugged the tall young man, now in college, so handsome and grown. She asked about his father, and Toby told her that he was well. He waved goodbye, walking to his car.

She turned and stopped, as she walked towards her own car, asking Toby if the angel was still on the tree. Toby suddenly knew that she had cared enough, to leave him all those years ago, with his own special thoughts as a child. Never giving a clue that she had saved the angel from the trash.

Toby went to her, hugging her tightly. Angel tears filled his eyes, "Thank you." She patted his hand, getting into her car with her packages. A special tear in her own eyes now, as she remembered the little boys tears, so long ago.

　

　

　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　

Bustier Or Bust

Chasing after Toby before she even gets through the door of the office
building, Maggie's out of breath and beginning to sweat a little. At
forty five, she has her hands full with this precious gift, given to her so late in
life. Maggie thought she was through with pediatrician visits, sticky fingers and bumps in the night. Then along came Toby.

He heads straight for the elevator at a run, jumping through the open door, almost rolling into the old man leaning against the back wall.

Toby has wheels on his tennis shoes and they blink red lights when
they hit something or stop, delighting him to no end. He rolls to a

brightly lit stop.

Maggie holds the door open with her hip, while she tries to maneuver
Toby to the side, his red lights blinking brightly. She hated those
ugly shoes, but he loved them, so..what are you gonna do? Maggie has learned
to pick her battles these days.

Suddenly she is booted forward from behind. Catching herself on the
wall, she turns around to see a short, ahem...overweight, twenty something
girl, shoving a huge suitcase on wheels into the elevator.

"Sorry, the wheel caught on the opening." the girl said with a twist
of her ruby red lips, outlined in black.

Maggie couldn't take her eyes off the girl, standing with her
mouth open. The girl had on some sort of bustier, with points on the
breast in Madonna-like fashion over a sleazy looking tank top. Her plump
bottom was squeezed tightly into a pair of very short pants, cut low
around the hips, creating a bulging muffin top around her middle.
A very ugly belly button, adorned with a ruby sort of stone,
surrounded by white skin bursting out over the waistline of the pants,
showed itself proudly.

The girl kept shoving that fricking suitcase into the elevator, until
there was barely room to stand. Maggie moved to the side, leaving only
the space beside the old man,the only place left for the bawdy broad to
stand.

Maggie grinned at her quick thinking, as she saw the old man's eyes light up.
He began to breath in short heavy intervals, ogling the points on the
girls getup.

Maggie giggled to herself, realizing that for one of the few times in
her life, she had made the right move. The man's breath was sucking the
air out of the elevator and filling it with a putrid odor, as it began
to rise to the upper floors of the building. She was glad that Miss
Bawdy had to stand next to him and not her.

Toby was playing with his little car at her feet. Running it up
against the suitcase, it would sizzle and flip over; to his delight.
He squealed with peals of laughter.

Toby had a rather loud voice for a child of only three, creating a
deafening echo inside in the elevator.

Miss Bawdy was sniffing the foul air coming out of Heavy Breather and
moving her feet, trying to get herself positioned farther away from him, to
no avail.

Toby's car missed the suitcase and landed on top of her six
inch heels.

Screaming as though she had been sliced with a knife, she told Toby,
"Keep that stinking car off of me brat!"

Maggie leaned forward to grab Toby when the elevator stopped with a
resounding lurch. Sending 'Heavy Breather' falling over on top of Miss Bawdy. She
begins to beat him off of her, screaming obscenities, with him holding
his hands up in defense of her ring covered digits. Still breathing his scent into the now acrid air in the elevator, the space was getting smaller by the moment.

Maggie helped Toby up from his back, where he had fallen, brushing
him off to quiet him. He had fallen on his wrist, and was now yelping like a dog
from the pain. The noise factor, between Toby and Miss Bawdy was
enough drive a sane person over the edge.

While she was trying to quiet Toby, Miss Bawdy started pushing all the
buttons on the elevator. All at once. This action caught Toby's eye.
He was ready to play the game too. Pulling out of Maggie's hold on him,
he squeezed in front Miss Bawdy.

Miss Bawdy eyed him like a spider on a sill, ready to squish it with
a mighty blow. "Back up kid. I have to get out of here!" she told him,
or rather growled at him. "The air in here is killing me. I can't
stand it!"

Toby was not deterred. If she could play with all the
buttons, so could he. He shoved her back with both hands,
his tiny hands almost getting lost in the folds of her..ah..tummy.

Now Heavy Breather wants in on it too. Leaving his spot to pull Miss
Bawdy's arm, "Leave them buttons alone! You'll have us trapped in here
all day doing that!"

Miss Bawdy was short, but evidently quite strong,
as she took her elbow to Heavy Breather's chest. He falls back and
stumbles over his own feet. Reaching out for balance, his flailing hand grabs the
back of her shirt thingy. Whatever had held it together, gave way. 
He fell backwards with it clutched tightly in his hand, as if that thing
could save him!

"Rape! Rape" Miss Bawdy screams in a blood curdling voice.

Toby jumped into Maggie's arms, no longer interested in the buttons
that light up like a game boy. His eyes were opened wide at the sounds
emanating from her throat. Cat like sounds. Big cat.

Heavy Breather is laying on the floor, trying to untangle his hands
from the Wonder Womanise piece of equipment, that he had by no means
intended, pulled from Miss Bawdy's bosoms. His eyes were bulging as he
fought with the forbidden garment wrapped around
his hands.

Miss Bawdy leans over to him. (Oh No) Maggie covers Toby's eyes with
her hands from the sight of her back end in full blooming view,
ripping the garment from Heavy Breather's hands. "Give me that old man.
You wouldn't know what to do with it anyway!"

Heavy breather tries to get up from the dirty carpet on the floor,
with little success. His breathing becomes more and more labored as
he struggles to get his legs under him. Emitting more of the foul odor
from his breath. It's stench is thicker now, sucking all the air from
the tiny cubicle.

Maggie holds tightly to Toby, who is now ever so quiet, as he watches in
wonder. Miss Bawdy is putting her..thing back around her much too bulging
body. Toby is mesmerized by the antics she performs with the bustier.

Maggie pushes against the wall trying to get as far away as possible,
while Miss Bawdy slings the bustier around trying to get it back on.
It's at least two sizes too small for her, so it continues to spring
back open every time she tries to re-hook it in the front. Her face is
red now from working so hard. Shoving those buxom size forty two's
into a size thirty six is aparently hard work. Evidently, this is a two man job.

She looks over at Maggie. Maggie shrinks down as far as she can,
turning her head away from the gushing front of Miss Bawdy, no longer
tightly trussed in her garment. Maggie felt slightly sick.

"OMG!" Miss Bawdy howls. "It won't bite you! Deal with it!"

At that moment the elevator door whooshes open, saving Maggie from the
too awful thought of putting her hands on that thing, or the woman.

Two maintenance men stood at the door, ready to help. Little did they know,
just what awaited their helping hands.

Maggie held onto Toby. Stepping around the suitcase, she quickly runs
out of the elevator. Glancing back, she sees Miss Bawdy standing
proudly, as one of the maintenance guys helped buckle her back into her,
oh so tight, bustier.

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