Still, Cloudy
Calm waters of the Missouri River on a cloudy day. Fort George, Highway 34, South Dakota.
“Table for One”
#1 in a Study of Silhouettes, May 2012. On clear mornings at daybreak, a shaft of sunlight streams through my home office window, across the hallway, and onto my bedroom wall. The challenge: capturing basic objects in silhouette. The result: the first in a series, shown here.
In the late 1940’s, my grandparents traveled by train from their Iowa farm to San Antonio, Texas. My grandfather captured the trip with a camera, the only time I ever knew of him taking pictures of anything. Many decades later when he gave those pictures to me, he said about the photo above.
“We went to the zoo, Grandma and me, because we’d never been to one before. It was so hot that day. There’d been a drought, George, you see, and it had hit the animals hard,” he said, turning the pages of the little brown album with its black and white pictures in their paper frames. “That polar bear, he looked pretty tough. But I had to take his picture, you know. Because I might never have seen one again.”
Gene Reiter’s polar bear, San Antonio Zoo, San Antonio, Texas - 1940’s
The Proposal
THE PROPOSAL by Kelly Thompson
“We should get married.”
Roslyn stopped mid-bite in her tuna sandwich and blinked at Jeffrey on the bench beside her. He smiled shyly as she mumbled, “Why?”
The smile widened. “Why not?”
Swallowing slowly, Roslyn considered the idea. They’d been a couple for some time and in recent weeks, many of their friends had taken the leap. Jeffrey watched, waiting for her answer. She let him squirm for another minute before smiling back. “All right. Let’s do it.”
The agreement was sealed with a kiss, just a peck on the cheek so as not to tip anyone off. Let them wait until we make the announcement, Roslyn thought. But she secretly flashed a quick thumbs up to her best friend, two benches over with her new husband.
Roslyn dropped the remains of her sandwich into her lunch sack. Now that the question had been asked and answered, she was more interested in planning than eating.
“Where should we have the wedding?” She asked.
Jeffrey didn‘t hesitate. “In my parents’ backyard.”
Having just been there for a party several weeks before, Roslyn recalled the large expanse of lush green lawn, the weeping willow trees with their gently swaying tendrils, his mother’s manicured rose garden. She nodded. “That would be perfect.”
Jeffrey beamed.
“I’ll wear a pink dress,” Roslyn continued, “with a wreath of flowers in my hair.”
“Pink?” He looked confused. “Aren’t wedding dresses supposed to be white?”
“They can be any color the bride wants,” she retorted. “I want pink.”
“Then I’ll wear a purple suit!”
Roslyn narrowed her eyes at him.
“Just kidding,” Jeffrey laughed. But at least a purple shirt, he thought, because it’s my wedding, too.
“What kind of cake should we have?” He asked.
“No cake,” she replied. “Cupcakes. White with yellow frosting and pink rosebuds.”
“But I like chocolate.”
“I like white.”
“Couldn’t we have some of both?” Said Jeffrey hopefully.
Roslyn sighed, ready to explain that wedding cakes were traditionally white but reconsidered her argument. He had been pretty agreeable so far, and it wouldn’t be that difficult to get some of each. She patted his hand. “Of course we can. What a great idea.”
Jeffrey sat up straighter, pleased to have scored a small victory. Which was immediately followed by a fiery defeat.
“Who should we invite?“
His new fiancée pursed her lips, considering the possibilities. “I’m thinking big event. Lots of family, friends.”
“Of course we’ll invite everyone from our group,” he chimed in.
“Well,” she snorted, “not EVERYone. We’re not inviting HER.”
Jeffrey cleared his throat. “But won’t she feel…left out?”
“I hope so.”
Oblivious to her warning tone, he stumbled on. “I don’t see what the problem is. That was over so long ago. We’re together now. She knows it, everyone knows it. What’s the harm in…”
“Jeffrey, do you want me to be happy?”
“Of course, but…”
“Then don’t argue with me. She’s not invited. End of discussion.” Roslyn smiled brightly. “So, now all we need is the date.”
The bell rang before Jeffrey could answer. He crumpled Roslyn’s lunch sack in his hands and tossed it with his own in the can by the bench. They fell in step with their classmates, and crossed the playground to the back door of the school where the teachers were waiting.
Roslyn and Jeffrey shouted to their kindergarten teacher across the waist-high sea of bobbing heads. “Miss Porter, guess what? We’re getting married!”
“How exciting!” she exclaimed. “Now you better hurry along to Mr. Jarvik’s room. There’s finger painting today.”
She watched as Roslyn pulled Jeffrey down the hall, eager to get a good seat in the art room. The bride-to-be paused once along the way to stick out her tongue at another little girl with a blond ponytail and a flowered hoodie. Jeffrey’s ex, to whom he had been engaged two weeks before.
Another happy couple, Miss Porter thought, rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she pulled the double doors shut against the midday sun.
