The Old Man - Part Five

A week into the job, Holly walked into the apartment to find the old man fixing a large meal.

"Wow, this is something else," she exclaimed. "What is the occasion?"

"It is your one week anniversary," he explained. "And I thought we should celebrate."

Holly helped set the table and finish with the salads. They sat at the table and began eating.

"How was work?"

"It was ok. I saw one of the girls in the store."

"One of the girls?" he asked.

"Yeah, one of Eddie’s girls. We used to work together sometimes. She walked by when I was fixing up the display in the window. She stopped in to see what I was doing."

"What did she say?"

"Nothin’."

"She just stood there and stared at you?" the old man asked.

"No, I mean she didn’t say anything worth repeating. She was surprised I was working there, that’s all."

"Anything else?"

"Like what?"

"I don’t know......just, anything else."

"She said Eddie was wondering where I was."

"Why?" the old man asked, becoming worried.

"Why what?"

"Why was he looking for you?"

"He wasn’t looking for me, he was wondering where I was. There is a difference."

"Maybe," the old man said, rather pensively.

"You’re just paranoid. Eddie doesn’t care about me anymore."

"I hope you’re right."

"What happened to Mr. Poster? All this positive crap, where’d that go?" she said, teasing the old man.

"It is just that you’ve done so well, I don’t want anything .........getting in the way right now, that’s all," he explained.

"You worry too much. I was reading the other day that worry can shorten your life. You don’t want a short life, do you?"

The old man laughed. "No, I guess not." They both laughed. After dinner, they sat in the living room and talked. Holly asked the old man where he came from. He paused for a moment before he spoke.

"I come from Poland. I was born in a small town outside of Warsaw. It was very beautiful there, so green and lush and the people all seemed so loving and caring for each other. It was like heaven. At least until the Germans invaded in thirty nine. Soon after they came, they started persecuting the jews. They wanted to gather us all up and put us in Ghettos to keep us away from everyone else. The night they came for our family, my brother ran to our house and warned my wife and me about the Nazis. We ran as fast as we could into the woods. There was shooting and.....my wife was killed." He paused for a moment to gather his emotions, then continued. "I ran with my two small sons into the woods and we lived there for four years, hiding from the Germans and fighting when we could. When the war ended, I found a way to come to America and work. I came to this city and found job making furniture. I raised my boys, who became very successful here in America. I also had what was left of my family come to America to live. My sister is still living yet, and she comes to visit sometimes".

"What about your sons?" Holly asked.

"One is still alive and lives out West in Arizona. He calls sometimes, but has a busy life. The other died last year of cancer."

"That’s too bad," Holly said.

"Yes, but life goes on, you know, and we have to go on living, as well."

"Well, Mr Poster is back," Holly said, smiling.

"What about you? Where are you from?" the old man asked.

"I really don’t have a story to tell. Not like yours, anyway," Holly said, looking at her hands in her lap.

"But I’m sure it is very interesting, nevertheless,"the old man said.

"Whatever." She looked up to see him looking at her with an interested expression on his face. "Ok......I was born in Houston, but we moved to San Antonio when I was a baby. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters for awhile, then I had a little brother come along. My dad drank a lot and used to......" She stopped to gather her thoughts. "Well....., he would, you know.....do things to me.....and I hated it...and him. I hated him so much!!" She stopped talking for a moment. The old man waited, letting her talk when she felt comfortable.

"I didn’t want to hate him, I wanted to love him like daughters should, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I left when I was sixteen and moved here cuz I had a friend who was here. She said she could help me, but when I got here, she was in jail for drugs, so I was on my own. I found some odd jobs and got set up in an apartment with a girl I met at my first job. After that, Eddie took care of me. And then some weird old man conned me into living with him so he didn’t have to sit on the bench to watch me." She smiled at the old man. He smiled back.

"It saves on sun screen," he said. "And now, what is your future?"

"My future? I don’t have a clue."

"You should think of the future. It will come whether you have a plan or not. A plan is better than not."

"Some how, I get the idea you have a plan for me."

"You need to go to school. You are smart and you should get a degree and make something of yourself. This is America, the land of unlimited opportunity. You should go to school."

"Are you saying you think I should go to school?" she asked, playing with him.

"Yes."

"And what should I be?"

"I don’t know. What would you like to study?"

"Well, I suppose being a pharmacist would be out of the question," she said, smiling. She stood up and walked into the kitchen to get some juice. "Do you want some juice?" She asked.

"Yes, thank you. Why not pharmacy? You could do that."

"I was kidding. I think I’d like being a nurse."

"Good, then tomorrow we start looking into nursing," the old man said, as he took the glass from Holly. She sat down in the chair where she was sitting before she went into the kitchen.

"You just don’t waste any time, do you?" Holly said.

"At my age, I don’t know how much time I have left. I can’t afford to waste any," he said, a glint in his eyes.

"I don’t think I’m smart enough to go to college, besides, I don’t have a high school diploma," she informed him.

"Then that is the first step," he explained.

"Yeah, whatever. I’ll think about it, okey?"

He decided not to press to hard on the schooling. He would be patient and wait a bit. "You think about it."

They finished talking then they retired to their respective rooms. Each to contemplate the future of Holly.



The old man pulled his coat collar up around his neck to protect it from the cold wind as he hurried along the sidewalk. He was late for dinner and Holly had told him to be on time because she wanted to surprise him with a special dinner she had read about in one of the books at the shop. Besides, it was their two week anniversary.

He had been talking with Ben, his old friend, at the senior center where they played chess every Thursday. It was a long match and he had lost track of time. As he turned the corner near his apartment, he saw the car parked in front of his place. It was a pink Continental with wide, white sidewalls on the tires. He had a bad feeling about that car. It didn’t belong in this neighborhood.

He hurried up the stairs, scrambled for his key, nearly tearing his pocket as he pulled the keys out. Once in, he rushed up the stairs. As he neared his door, he heard the glass break. He quickly pushed the key in the lock and shoved open the door. Across the room stood Holly, her blouse ripped open and a trickle of blood dripped from her nose. She was terrified.

The old man looked to the other side of the room and saw a man dressed in a white suit holding his head, blood running between his fingers from a cut on his scalp. The shattered glass on the floor, the remnants of a vase that once sat on a table in the living room, must have been the cause of the cut.

The man charged at Holly, cussing as he ran at her. The old man moved toward them, catching the man just as he hit Holly with a crushing right hand, knocking her to the floor. The old man, his hands still strong from so many years making furniture, grabbed the man by the neck and held him up against he wall, strangling him. He squeezed as hard as he could, hoping to stop this man from ever hurting Holly again. As the old man held the man, he heard Holly scream. "No!!"

The old man felt a strike to his stomach, then an extreme burning, as if his gut was on fire. His breath left him and his grasp on the man’s neck loosened. He felt another strike, then another. He was becoming weaker and his grip loosened some more. He tried to squeeze harder, but he was unable to. Why couldn’t he squeeze? What was wrong? He looked down and saw the blood. Then he saw the man stick the knife into him again. He let go of the man and grabbed his stomach. The front of his shirt was becoming wet with his blood. His knees gave out, and he fell to the floor. The man ran out of the apartment. Outside, the sound of sirens could be heard. The neighbors must have called the police, the old man thought.

"Paul?" Holly said, as she kneeled at his side. "Paul, I’m so sorry." She was crying. "I don’t know how he found me. It must have been that girl that saw me in the store. I’m so sorry."

"Don’t worry, Holly, it will be ok."

"Help is coming. Don’t you die on me," she said, sobbing as she held his head.

The police came in, saw the old man, examined his injuries, then called for an ambulance. Holly stayed by his side until the paramedics arrived and started attending to him. She stood by as they moved him onto the stretcher and then followed them down the stairs and into the ambulance.

"Are you a relative?" one of the paramedics asked.

"She is with me," the old man said, weakly. "It’s ok."

"Hop in," the other paramedic said as they closed the door.

She watched the paramedics work on the old man, trying to get IV’s in him, covering his face with an oxygen mask, and trying to get the bleeding to stop. She reached in and grabbed the old man’s hand, squeezing it. He squeezed back very slightly. It was the last communication they would have. He died on the operating table later that night.



The sun felt warm on her face as she stood facing Fourth Street. The sound of the traffic drowned out the sounds of kids playing in the park behind her and the birds singing. She wasn’t able to hear any of that, just the sound of the cars driving by. She stood there, waiting, like before. Holly watched the oncoming traffic, watching for a car to stop. She impatiently paced up and down the sidewalk, watching each car as it passed. Occasionally, one of the cars would slow and the man driving would look at Holly, his eyes searching her face for an indication of why she was standing there. A grey sedan slowed and pull to the curb in front of her. She stepped to the car, opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.

"Hi, how’s things?" she asked, as they pulled into traffic.

"Ok, how about you?"

"I’m ok," she answered. "Thanks for giving me a ride. This class schedule makes it hard to get to school if I have to ride the bus."

"Hey, I’m happy to have the company," the young lady driving said.

"Yeah, company is good," Holly added, looking out the window at the bench where the old man used to sit. "Company is good."

The End