Redemption

Scene 1 – CLEAN UP – Northern Lights Apartments, St. Germain, Wisconsin, October 1954
“Sally loves you, Bobby,” she’s confused.” Larry’s words are sweet honey on a rainy Monday evening. “Your wife moved out. That doesn’t mean the end of your marriage unless you decide the relationship is over.”

Gripping the phone, sweat beads on my brow. “Can you come over? I know it’s a long drive, but I need you buddy.” I slump against the wall. The phone’s black cord cuts across my neck.
 
“I’ll drive straight through the night.” Larry says. “I can be at your place by dawn. Have a pot of coffee on for me, pal.”
 
Larry’s headlights pierce Tuesday morning’s fog as he wheels into my apartment’s parking lot. He walks through the front door after a single knock and sits at the kitchen table. “If you think I could be helpful, I’ll talk with Sally,” he says. “She trusts me. I’ll tell her you love her and are afraid to lose her. Maybe I can reason with her.”
 
I join Larry at the table. We sit on red padded, vinyl chairs; the chill of chair’s chrome cools my legs. I pour two steaming mugs of Folgers from a percolator. Black brew overflows my cup. “Damn, I never liked this dinette set anyway.”
 
“I’ll clean up, Larry says.
 
“Thanks. You’re a real friend.” My eyes meet Larry’s. “I need your help and you show up. I appreciate anything you could do. Come back after you see Sally. We’ll have lunch. I want to hear what happened and if you feel there’s hope.” My shirtsleeve wicks a spot of coffee Larry missed.
 
The rear wheels of Larry’s saddle brown Chevy 3100 pickup truck kick out loose gravel, spraying other cars as he guns the engine and speeds away. Larry never returned.
 
Scene 2 – MESS UP – Northern Lights Apartments, St. Germain, Wisconsin, March 1959
I answer the phone on the second ring. “Hello, this is Robert.” 
 
“Hey Bobby,” it’s Sally. “Can we talk?”
 
I sit at the dinette. “What’s up?”
 
“Something’s been bothering me since our divorce,” she says. “We had our problems. I messed up, but this wasn’t one of them. He came on to me you know.”
 
“What are you talking about?” I stammer.
 
“Larry,” Sally says. “Remember when he came to visit you last year? Well, he showed up at my place and said, ‘Sally, I know that this is rough for you so I drove right over to comfort you. I always wanted to make it with you and now that it’s over with Robert, I’d like to get it on with you.’”
 
I lean forward on the table, cradling the phone in both hands. “Why are you telling me this?”
 
“I threw the bum out. I just wanted you to know.”
 
Scene 3 – FOREVER DAYS – Due Drop Inn, Ashland, Wisconsin, June 1964
“Ever wish you were someone else?” I ask the audience. I know it’s a rhetorical question, so I answer. “About five years ago my marriage was over. Friends couldn’t help. I imagined an island called Merably where I could be a different person. Here’s my song.
 
“Hosted a party, no one came.
Tried to love, then it rained.    
Asked for help, he went away.
How will I find my way?
       
        Come with me to Merably.       
        You’ll be happy to be with me.       
         I’ll lift you up to see the sea.      
        We’ll while away forever days.     
 
My old town has gotten me down.
In a rut I can’t give up.       
To go or stay I cannot say.     
I will follow my own way.
     
        Come with me to Merably.       
        You’ll be happy to be with me.       
         I’ll lift you up to see the sea.      
        We’ll while away forever days.”      

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Richard Wilberg, MS, PLCC, ACC 
Creativity Coach for Personal Fulfillment and Career Success
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