My eyes grow weary, my movements slow, as my days grow fewer and fewer; but my mind is good, oh so clear, as I sit on the porch and think of my life and my will. My children will be secure if they use their brains; no work will they need to do. My wife did leave me and pass over last year, so what reason do I have to continue here? My body that was once my citadel has failed me and quickly deteriorated. The pain and discomfort is nearly where I cannot stand it.

I think of Will, the boy next door, only 16 with so much to give. Jug Powers, his dad, says the boy will have to find his own way. Jug will not waste one red dime to send the boy to University, to waste his hard earned money, to party and chase girls, or do dope. “Jug, you and I did not have the chance to go on to further our education. Like you, after grade seven I went to work. We had to work at home, helping on the farm.”

Jug had looked at me and frowned. “Yep, you found a way and look at you now. But me, I just plowed the fields and worked the farm. No, my boy must learn the hard way.”

One modern convenience that I do enjoy now, the old man thought, is having a telephone without a cord. As I think of young Will, I dial old Dan and do tell him, “Dan the boy that lives next door, Will Powers, the son of old Jug. I want to make a change in my will. I want that boy to have a chance.”

“Well, right now I am sort of busy," Dan says to my request, "But next week I can handle it.”

“No, Dan, I want it done today. I want it done right now. I want that boy to get fifty-thousand. I want you to set it up as a scholarship. Pay his way across the hill; pay his way to the university. Pay for every school-related thing. But no spending money on clothes. And the day he does graduate, what is left give to him in a check.”

Dan did hem and haw, and said he would handle it. But to be sure, I make a call to Clarence down at the bank. “Clarence, you know it is I, I need a transaction done right now, for a change I am making in my will. Dan is supposed to handle it.”

“What can I do to help you, and remember the croppy fishing we are going next week,” Clarence did of me remind.

“Take fifty thousand, yes fifty thousand from my big account," I tell him. "Move it to a special account. The name of the recipient is Jug Power's young son, Will.”

Clarence then did say huh, and I finished my sentence. “Yes, fifty thousand into an account for Will Powers. Dan will handle the controls and paper work. And if I pass on afore it is done, you know that it is for the boy’s education, for his chance in the life ahead.”

I begin to cough, my breath is short, as of my inhaler I do take a big snort. “Clarence, get it done now, call Dan and tell him I made the start.”

“Yes, I do understand, does Dan know all of the controls,” Dan does ask.

“Got to go, have to lie down,” I do reply as I rise to go inside.

“Mister Snoggins, you OK?” a young boy yells from across the way.

I start to wave but slowly fall, and Will is soon there to help me. But, my time has come, my end is now. I look up and dimly see the boy.

“Thank you, Will,” I do mutter, then I say, “Go far with your life. Get out and the world try to conquer.”

But my last words I do slur, and as my life slowly fades and my breaths grow short, I see Ethel holding out her hand.



© By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)

 




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Forsythia

The American Eagle

Uncle Henry

Meandering

Choices

Ode To A Japanese Garden

Distant Voices

An Old Love, Viewed By Candlelight


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