Eddy had been getting a little worried about Mrs Elsdon. She hadn’t been for her daily constitutional walk for a couple of days now and he was concerned that he’d really stepped over the line. Or worse, that something had happened to her in that lonely house of hers. So, when he saw her slip out of the front door on a crisp Thursday morning he breathed a sigh of relief.
The second thing he noticed was that she didn’t keep with her usual routine. Instead of turning left and circling the cul-de-sac first, she crossed the road and headed straight for his place, her walking stick beating faster than he could ever remember. She was a lady with a purpose.
Eddy considered his options but at the end of the day he stayed right where he was. He’d started this thing, now he had to see it through.
Click, clack, click, clack.
Only a couple of houses down from Eddy’s, Mrs Elsdon looked up and spotted him in the window. Satisfied she’d hooked her fish she slowed down a bit and gave her aching hip a brief respite. It appeared she had some options to consider as well.
Then, stepping right up to the pavement beneath the window, she looked up and asked him the simplest of questions.
‘How did you know?’
‘I d-don’t know, Mrs Elsdon.’
‘I don’t really know what to say. Do you know what you drew, Eddy?’
‘A garden. And a green stone.’
‘But did someone tell you about the green stone? My green stone?’
‘Nope. I – I promise.’
Eddy was growing increasingly concerned that Mrs Elsdon would get Grandma Daisy involved, and he knew he didn’t want that even if he didn’t really know what he’d done wrong. At the time it had just felt like an idea, an urge. The old lady measured him, checking to see whether he wasn’t playing games with her.
‘You know, I haven’t thought about the green stone in a long, long time. We called it the green stone because of all the moss on it. It sits in the shade down the end of our garden and it was covered in the stuff when we first moved into the place.’ Mrs Elsdon took a moment to stretch and made a grimace as she did it. ‘Do you mind if I sit, Eddy? My back’s playing up at the moment.’
‘There’s nowhere t-to sit.’
‘Oh, here on your front lawn will do just fine.’
When Mrs Elsdon had settled in, making sure her legs were tucked away all ladylike, she started back in where she’d left off.
‘It took me a good while to remember how it began. It was our keystone. We used to place the spare key under there in case we lost one of ours or we’d been locked out.’ She took a second or two to smile at her wealth of memories. ‘I used it too, let me tell you. I was forever leaving the house without the key. Ben used to tease me about it but in the end it worked out to be a good thing. You see, Eddy, it happened so often it got to the point where Ben used to leave little notes for me under the green stone . . . all wrapped in a plastic bag with the key in it. At first it was a great big joke for him. You know, he’d write things like “How’s the Alzheimer’s?” and silly stuff like that.
‘After a while though . . . many, many years we’re talking about here, the notes sort of changed. They went from silly little jokes to . . .’ Mrs Elsdon paused to chuckle, ‘to love notes, I guess you could say. Things like poems and other things, just to let me know he still loved me. Always and forever, he’d sign them off. Always and forever. They were beautiful, Eddy, and whenever I found one they’d make my day . . . my week even. He wouldn’t stow them there all the time, though. He was cheeky like that. But every once in a while I’d check and feel like I’d hit the lottery.
‘When he got sick, though . . . well, he couldn’t do it any more, could he? So I just figured that was it.’ Mrs Elsdon couldn’t smile any more so she stopped trying. ‘He was at the hospital most of the time.’ Now a tear track slipped down her face and watered the sleeve of her blouse. ‘At the very end, he came home. The doctors couldn’t do anything for him. So I set up a bed for him in the lounge, where he could watch TV and receive friends and family . . . you know, be comfortable.
‘I had no reason to check, Eddy. All these years, how was I to know? How he did it, I have no idea. He had absolutely no energy and that’s the thing. He had the opportunity but no energy.
‘The only thing I can think of is when I popped out for a couple of groceries or something . . . he must’ve dragged that whole IV unit out to the backyard with him. And the whole time he didn’t say a damned thing. I guess he just figured I’d find it sooner rather than later.’
Reaching into the very same handbag she’d put Eddy’s card in a few days earlier, she dragged out a small plastic bag. Then, struggling a bit with her trembling fingers, she fished around inside it and came back out with a simple piece of notepaper. There was no way Eddy could see what was written on it but as Mrs Elsdon unfolded it on her lap he did spy the telltale squiggles of handwriting.
‘Do you want me to read it to you, Eddy?’
‘N-no, Mrs Elsdon. You don’t have to.’
‘It’s beautiful, Eddy,’ cried the gentle lady on his front lawn. ‘Of all the things he ever wrote me, this is the most beautiful.’
Mrs Elsdon refolded her precious note and tucked it back away in its plastic bag. Confident it was safe and sound, she grabbed hold of her walking stick and put it to the test, as she used it to leverage her old bones back up to a standing position.
‘You never did tell me how you knew . . . but don’t worry, I’m not going to ask again. I’ve been around long enough and I think I know a miracle when I see it. We’ll leave it at that, shall we?’
‘I guess s-so, Mrs Elsdon. I’m just glad you liked my card.’
‘Thank you, Eddy. I know that’s just words but I don’t know how I can ever repay you for what you’ve done. You’re a very special boy and you’ve made me warm again. This,’ she said, holding up the plastic bag, ‘this is his arms, this is his hug.’
She cast her gaze higher than Eddy and regarded the deep blue heavens above them. And she smiled a happy, contented smile.
‘Would you mind if I come back and see you again? Just for a friendly chat.’
‘I’d l-like that, Mrs Elsdon. W-we can be friends.’