Sometimes, for a change in scenery, she takes the lake path for her jog. I had a feeling that this morning she would come this way so I sit down on the bench to wait. It\u2019s the only bench available on the entire foot path. It\u2019s metal, looks uncomfortable and rusty but this doesn’t matter to me. I\u2019m light, as light as air itself. I settle myself and assume the posture of an elderly man–not too old–certainly not frail, just an approachable, attractive (for his age) gentleman that someone might not hesitate to offer assistance should he need help.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Perfect, here she comes. She\u2019s wearing a blue and green jacket and matching running shoes. Her reddish hair is tied in a pony tail and her cheeks are flushed from the cold and exertion. She is a little overweight, but not much. She\u2019s working on it, everyday by carving out a slice of time in the early morning for herself. She is running briskly and touches her fit-bit to see her bpm (beats per minute–heart), checking her distance (how far she\u2019s come) as if she couldn\u2019t turn her head and look behind her to see just exactly how far she\u2019s come. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hmm, she\u2019s distracted, she\u2019s not seeing the patched pavement ahead, the path uneven from the tree roots growing beneath the concrete–only a few steps away. Oops, there she goes. She\u2019s down. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The young woman lies on the ground for a while, on her side. Then sits up and rubs her ankle. I hear her say \u201couch\u201d. She pulls down her sock and examines her ankle. As she begins to untie her shoe, I speak. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s best to keep your shoe on in case of swelling.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She jerks round and gasps, making a little startled sound. She hasn\u2019t noticed me until now. It appears that I will be offering her <\/em>assistance instead of the other way around. Things don\u2019t always go as planned. <\/p>\n\n\n\n As I rise from my seat I remind myself–move slowly, after all you are <\/strong>an old man.<\/em> Don\u2019t be too energetic.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAre you all right?\u201d I ask.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI think so,\u201d she says as she tries to stand. \u201cOuch, well maybe not.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019m at her side, a little too quickly, but she doesn\u2019t notice. I bend over and look at her ankle. \u201cWell, there\u2019s no swelling. That\u2019s a good sign–probably not broken–perhaps only a sprain.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n She removes her gloves and gently touches her ankle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWould you like some help to the bench?\u201d I ask?<\/p>\n\n\n\n She glances in the direction of the bench and then back at me. She sizes me up. She is thinking that maybe this old man may not be up to the job. I get that a lot. But she realizes that she has no choice. It\u2019s either accept the old man\u2019s offer or remain on the ground. So she replies, \u201cYes, if you don’t’ mind,\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I give her my gloved hand and help her rise. Using me for support, she hops to the bench and plops down. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMaybe you should put your foot up on the bench to keep it elevated,\u201d I suggest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She shifts herself about and places her leg and foot on the bench. So easy, <\/em>I think to myself. <\/p>\n\n\n\n She reaches in her pocket, then the other one, searching for something. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLose something?\u201d I ask. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI think I must have dropped my phone when I fell,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cShall I take a look on the path?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWould you?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes, of course.\u201d I rise and slowly walk to the pavement. I spot the phone laying in the grass and weeds. With my back to her, I step on it and give my foot a little twist–crunch. I slide it into the mud puddle for good measure. I pretend to search and then pick it up and hold it out for her to see. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt\u2019s a little wet, I\u2019m afraid,\u201d I say. I try to look concerned as I bring it to her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh no,\u201d she moans and reaches for the phone. She rubs it on her pants leg to clean off the mud and then tries to turn it on. \u201cI hope it\u2019s not ruined.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDon\u2019t they make these things waterproof now?\u201d I ask, making sure I look sufficiently naive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes, it is supposed to be. I don\u2019t know why it\u2019s not working.\u201d She slides her index finger over the face of the phone and presses buttons to turn it on and off. \u201cDead,\u201d she says at length and puts it in her pocket. \u201cAt least it\u2019s under warranty.\u201d She sighs and looks down at her ankle which is a little swollen now. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m going to be late for work,\u201d she tries to stand, \u201cOuch.\u201d She sits back down. \u201cThis is awful, I wish\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I interrupt her. \u201cCareful what you wish for.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n She looks at me like I am from another planet and then asks. \u201cDo you have a phone, sir?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt\u2019s Hermie,\u201d I offer. It\u2019s good to be on a first name basis, I am thinking. <\/em>\u201cShort for Hermes, my father had a thing about the Greeks. He was Greek actually. But I go by Hermie.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201c<\/em>Oh, okay.\u201d She’s a little annoyed, I can tell. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDo you happen to have a cell phone, Hermie?\u201d She looks doubtful.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnd you are?\u201d I ask. She looks puzzled by my question. I continue, \u201dYour name is?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCarrissa.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWell what about that,\u201d I respond brightly. \u201cYour name is Greek, too. Carrissa, it means grace. Did you know that? \u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh? She hesitates, probably wondering what this old man is going on about. \u201cNo, I didn\u2019t know that. Well, not so graceful today. Um–about that phone?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I can see she\u2019s getting impatient, maybe worried. \u201cYes, I do. But I\u2019m afraid it\u2019s not a fancy phone like yours. It\u2019s a little old fashion, the flip kind. Doesn\u2019t even have a password,\u201d I chuckle. I retrieve it from my pocket, flip it open and hand it to her. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThank you,\u201d she says. She calls her work and tells them she\u2019ll be late and then dials another number. No answer, she leaves a message, then dials someone else. This time someone answers. I move away a few steps to give her some privacy, but I can hear everything clearly. There\u2019s a lengthy discussion about where she is and what happened. I hear her say \u201cA nice man is here helping me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n There\u2019s a lengthy pause. The person on the phone must be talking. Carrissa lowers her voice. \u201cNo don\u2019t worry, he\u2019s old, harmless–really very nice.\u201d There\u2019s talk of when the person can come get her and alternatives–various friends. Finally, she hangs up and hands me my phone. <\/p>\n\n\n\n She looks at me sheepishly. \u201cWould you mind terribly staying here with me until my sister can come? I don\u2019t want to be here, alone without a phone.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOf course,\u201d I reply and smile. \u201cFor as long as you need. I have no place I need to be,\u201d I say. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Except in this exact spot and time, Things are going perfectly, <\/em>I think to myself. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt may be a while, an hour at least, maybe longer,\u201d she says frowning a little.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt\u2019s fine,\u201d I say. So I settle myself on the far end of the bench and we look out over the lake. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI wish I\u2019d gone on my regular run today, it\u2019s boring but a better pavement.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Really, are you sure?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n She glances at me. \u201cI\u2019m just saying that if I\u2019d gone on my regular route, I\u2019d be ok now, not sitting here with a sprained, I hope to god, not broken, ankle, and<\/em> late for work.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAre you sure?\u201d I smile. \u201cWhere\u2019s the adventure in that, the same old, same old–safe and boring? What if you weren\u2019t just saying,\u201d <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Actually, I hate that expression, \u201cjust saying\u201d. People use it all the time now, to end a statement–to cut off any sort of rebuttal one might have to their idea. They think it let\u2019s them off the hook for whatever outrageous theory they are pontificating. I\u2019ve let my mind wander. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Carrissa looks at me perplexed and raises her eyebrows. She clearly has no idea what I\u2019m talking about. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Get on with it, I tell myself. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n I continue. \u201cWhat if you could have a wish, would it be what you just wished for?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Silence settles between us. The breeze wanes and the ripples on the lake run out to the edges. The lake becomes glassy. Our<\/em> reflections mingle with the tree reflections in the lake. The atmosphere becomes heavy. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I whisper, \u201cone wish.\u201d <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Carrissa, doesn\u2019t look at me. She tilts her head and looks out over the lake. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I can tell I have her attention, so this time I don\u2019t speak the words. I put forth the thought. \u201cYou get one wish, just one. What will it be?\u201d <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Heat rises from the ground, warming us. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOnly one, Make it a good one.\u201d <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n I lay out the rules. You see, I\u2019ve thought this through beforehand. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The wish must be for yourself alone, not for someone else, not for happiness, not world peace, not to live forever (possible but the gods hate that–the whole immortality thing). It can be anything else, but for yourself alone. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNow, say the words. Make the wish, your heart\u2019s desire. Careful though, your words, once spoken will be your choice, your decision, your proclamation.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Carrissa shakes her head as though she is casting off a thought. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I project an image. She obviously needs help with imagining, visualizing. Money, a bank statement, a large ending balance, a variety of numerals with many zeros following them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n She sees it. She licks her lips, thinking it over but I can see her losing interest. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cFame?\u201d I project an image of a stage, an audience, music, roaring applause. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Carrissa looks a little dreamy eyed and then shakes her head, ever so slightly. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Not hitting a mark, with the usual. Hmmm. Maybe family. So I imagine for her and let the ether carry the image–a husband, a baby, a house, a cat, a dog, all playing on the well-manicured lawn. But to my surprise the image bursts apart and scatters like ash.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ok, not interested in settling down. <\/p>\n\n\n\n And then, she surprises me. The ash reassembles into images, like snippets from a cell phone–first Twitter, hateful quips. Then there\u2019s a flash of all day news channels, the U.S. Capitol–politicians in the House, the Senate–unveiled vicious attacks on each other, the President. The image shifts to a city street, people–some masked and others unmasked–attacking each other. Overturned cars, statues being toppled and dragged to the lake, shops–closed and boarded, graffiti scrawled everywhere, large box stores being looted, armed police turning and walking away. It reminds me of a civil war.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The images are there for a moment and then dissipate. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Carrissa\u2019s shoulders slump. She sighs and sinks deeper into the bench, into herself. A great sadness, hopelessness washes over her face, like something is lost–a way of life perhaps. We sit for a while in the quiet. Then a bird calls overhead, a hawk–red tailed. It circles above us, calls again and then is gone. <\/p>\n\n\n\n In an instant, Carrissa makes her choice. Her back straightens, her shoulders lift and in a clear voice she speaks. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cTo be a bird. To fly far away.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n And then she is gone. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I remain on the bench and watch her try out her wings, gliding, dipping, soaring–until she\u2019s out of sight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And as for me, wish granted, I drop the phones on the bench, dissolve into the atmosphere and fly upward on winged feet, following a blue and green bird with a red crown of feathers–far, far away. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u00a9 Glenda Kotchish<\/p>\n\n\n\n February 2021<\/p>\n\n\n\n I wrote this during the time of the COVID-19 virus when the whole world turned upside down.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Sometimes, for a change in scenery, she takes the lake path for her jog. I had a feeling that this morning she would come this way so I sit down on the bench to wait. It\u2019s the only bench available on the entire foot path. It\u2019s metal, looks uncomfortable and rusty but this doesn’t matter … Continue reading One Wish<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":30,"featured_media":738,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-727","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/727","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/30"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=727"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/727\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":743,"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/727\/revisions\/743"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/738"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=727"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}