It was a rainy day. The water rain down street curbs filled with creases and crevices, like the wrinkles in grand fathers worn out slacks he kept balled up in the top drawer. A year after he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, his neatly ironed slacks was not a top priority any more. Rainy days like these kept the angry old man from pounding the living room door in fear of being late for his first day of work. Grandfather would yell about bringing home the bacon, and how his years serving our great nation had prepared him for that moment. How us ungrateful kids would never know the true meaning of hard work. But nothing was more satisfying then to hear him say, “ when you grow up one day, and marry a husband of your own then you’ll know. That’s when you will understand.” Then Tired and old, still able to walk the old wooden floors of the house he built, with his bare hands I may add. He would wobble back to his rocking chair, falling asleep on his way down to rest those heavy feet. Finally, deciding to adjourn his argument for another day. But on rainy days like today. When the earth’s rain sang a song to warm the toughest man’s heart, he sat holding a green cloth in hand, rubbing the cloth back and forth, back and forth. Uttering words “I remember it was 19, 19, 19…” he could never remember. He would began to babble but the words he struggled to say never made it passed the bridge of his nose. So he just went back to rubbing his cloth. “grandfather “ I called to him, kneeling down and kissing him on the forehead. “you better not, you better not" he mumbled. Swatting my hand when I dared to grabbed his cloth. “it is time for lunch, come sit at the table.” Tucking his sacred cloth in his shirt pocket, I noticed how he never forgot where he put this piece of fabric. I never gave it much thought, I always put it back after I washed his clothes. I guess it never occurred to me why he was so attached to it. It was green with flowers, cut from a shirt or a dress. No way could it belong to him. Besides I didn’t have time to figure it out. Probably something he picked up on his day out. I shrugged it off and headed for the unfolded clothes sitting on the washer. Leaving his dish on the table, granddad made his way to his bed to nap. Folding and placing each shirt in the top draw. I don’t know what it was but the loose old dresser gave way to its grip of the dresser draw. To the floor it fell. Bending down to pick it up, I peered in the dresser to see how it had broken. To my surprise, stuck to the back of the dressers board, an old black and white photo was hidden for who knows how long. I reached in grabbing the photo, in awe of what I may see. The small rectangular picture showed a woman in a green dress, with ruffles that bordered the neck of the dress. Her long slim body aligned perfectly with the seams that caressed her astonishing figure. The same flower pattern I seen on grandfathers cloth decorated the young woman’s dress. Her high cheek bones and smooth complexion revealed that she could not have been older then 20, but her posture spoke volumes as she stood with her head held high, with penetrating eyes that could hypnotize any man foolish enough to fall in love. I looked on the back hoping to find a clue to who this woman could be. Sure enough, dated with a name and address, I finally got my chance to know Jane doe. It was 1905, Marsha Bell was her name. 1453 Cherry woods drive, Nashville Tennessee was the address. I put the photo in my back jean pocketed and tended to that raggedy draw that held the answers to grandfathers secret. “You old piece of junk I laughed to myself, looks like your good for more them holding on to grandfather everyday slacks.” I was definitely thinking about buying a new one. “If the old man still had half his marbles he probably fix you up himself.” The closet down the hall stored tones of old pictures frames, so I went to grab one. I stuck the old picture in the over sized framed I had found and placed it on top of the old beat up dresser. I took a step back and chuckled a bit looking over at grandfather snuggled up in his bed. I guess you found a way to stick around like your old man I joked, as I walking down to see who had knocked at the front door.
The shadow behind the front door window curtain outlined a woman holding something rather large in their hand. I peeked from behind to get a better look. Good God what is all this I thought swinging the door wide open with excitement. My younger sister Sarah decided to pay grandfather a visit. “Whoa look at this” I said grabbing the freshly baked red velvet cake she had made just for him. “yes dear, Rainy days are better with hot tea, cake and granddad. So here I am" she smiled kissing me on both cheeks as she walked in. “Where’s the old man" she asked taking her place at the dining room table. “is he out fishing with Bob again?” making conversation with cutting herself a piece of cake. “No, he’s napping, but you won’t believe what I found today. I’ll be right back to show you” I headed for the bedroom when I meet granddad in the hall, picture and cloth in hand. The look in his eyes was of glee as he held out his hands waving and pointing at the picture. His smile said a thousand words, I gently grabbed him by the hand and walked him to the dining room. “that’s not the only surprise you have today. Look who came to say hello" His face lit up while his voice let out a soft tone “Sarah" he said as he clinched the frame to his heart. There are just somethings he would never forget and Sarah’s name was one. Grandfather always kept the dearest parts of his life close to his heart never to be erased by anyone or anything. “and I brought your favorite cake” she announced, making his day. I showed Sarah the photo. “It even has an address on the back" I took the photo out of the frame to show her. “Wow" she said glossing over the picture. “Let’s write and see if Marsha is still around. After all, granddad still kicking" she was right. How amazing would it be to reunite true love. I could tell grandfather had a romantic love for the woman in the photo. He fell in love everything he looked at her. Sarah ran to the kitchen draw and grabbed a large notepad that had a bright yellow sunflower on it and a blue pen. She sat in front of grandfather and grinned from ear to ear.
Dear Mrs. Bell,
My name is Sarah Franklin. My grandfather’s name is Gerald Franklin and my sister and I found your picture in his room. We hope you are doing well and if it is not too much to ask, we would like to visit you one day.
Sincerely
The Franklin Family
I smiled so hard and handed Sarah the blank envelope I had left over from some bills I had mailed earlier. She sealed it and stamped it, then headed for the door. “ Are you leaving already" I asked “you just got here" she threw on her rain coat and boots, grabbing her umbrella all in one motion. “of course not silly, ill be back after I mail this letter. The mailman should be here soon.” We felt like we were ten years old again. Two little girls making a surprise for grandfather like old times. Something told me he would remember this for the rest of his days.
I checked the mailbox everyday, until finally it came. A letter addressed to Gerald Franklin from Marsha Bell. I hurried inside to call Sarah. She was an undergrad, so she did not answer the phone much so I left her a voicemail. “Get over here quick, I don’t want to do this without you. A letter from Marsha came today. I’m going to explode if I don’t open it!” I ran to the computer and sent her an email. I even sent her a text! My body felt electronic, I could not believe my eyes. All these years grandfather held that green cloth, rubbing it back and forth, back and forth. I never imagined in a million years it would amount to this. A long lost love from his war days before he met our beloved grandmother who we thought was the woman of his dreams. Here in my hand I held a letter from a woman who had won his heart way before me or my sister was born. The phone rang and I snatched it off the table. “ Sarah, are you there" she let out a wail so funny we both let out a laugh like no other. “I’m on my way, OH my God this is so amazing she said gasping for air. I agreed before hanging up. I called about fifty friends. People I did not talk to in years heard all about this mystery letter. Could we get this on the news one of my close friends said during one of the calls. I sat down and pulled out the phone book. Flipping thru looking for news stations in our town. Just then Sarah burst through the door. “Well where is it!” she squealed. I picked it up and ripped the top half open. Unfolding the pink paper that held all the answers to my grandfathers past. I began reading.
Dear Sarah,
My name is Marsha Bell. Your grandfather was an old friend of mines. We spent a lot of time together. It would be an honor to see him again. Tomorrow I am making tea. On September the 15. Feel free to stop by around three.
Love
Mrs. Bell
The letter was dated a couple days before. What’s today? I asked. Sarah looked at the calendar. It’s September 15. What time is it I asked Its 11 am. Ours eyes wide open and our jaws touching the floor. We looked at each other then took off running to grandfathers room. Screaming and squealing the whole way. We just could not contain all the emotions we felt inside. Like two teen age girls we ripped through granddad clothes looking for something for him to wear. “Wait until Bob hears about this!” Sarah said with pride and gladness. Just then Bob and granddad walked in the door from their monthly fishing trip. Sarah darted for the living room, granddads tie and shoes in hand. Right behind her I dragged his suit. We both stumbled om the living room practically falling on top of each other. “What in the world is going on” Bob looked at us with wonder on his face. “Guess what! We are taking grandfather to see a friend!” I blabbed. “Not just any friend but a woman he use to love before he met grandma!” Sarah finished. Out of breath and looking around we both headed for grandfather to help him get dress. “Wait this is happening now? Bob asked. Sarah handed him the letter, while I put on grandfathers top. “Yea we have to be there by three!” Sarah leaned down to tie his shoes. With his hand on his hip he read the letter. He rubbed his head and laughed “ You two are always up to something. Well I’ll be the one to drive you” he went out side to start the car while Sarah and I finished getting grandfather ready. We locked up the house and moseyed on down the road to Nashville. This moment felt surreal.
The house was tall and blue with pink flowered trees out front. Bob drove the truck in to the front yard drive way and parked. We all got out one by one and walked up the cobble stone walk way leading to the cozy porch. It had took about an hour to drive to Cherry woods drive and it was worth every minute. Grandfather stood there with her picture grabbed between both hands. Sarah rang the door bell while the rest of us waited intensely for someone to answer the door. Suddenly, like the horizon creeping up behind the hills, the door slowly opened. The woman from the photo stood as tall as she had so many years ago, with her hair neatly pulled into a tight bun. Her eyes lite up seeing us all with bubble cheeks and heart shaped eyes. Grandfather handed her the photo, then reached for the green cloth he had in his top pocket. Marsha smiled and wiped the tears from her eyes as she invited us in. Now grandfather will have a new photo to remind him of the woman dressed in the Secret green cloth.
The End


© Kenya Jackson