“Oh yes. Pacts and promises have a way of slipping away from you, especially when they’re toyourself.”
They rounded a bend in the trail, moving around a steep hill packed with pines and oaks, an overgrowth of briars and moss scattered about the ground. Two chipmunks raced across the path, one seemingly trying to keep up with the other, and they hurried up a tree on the otherside.
“They sure do move fast,” Wes said. “I don’t think I’ve ever moved so fast in my wholelife.”
“I hear you were pretty quick on a footballfield.”
Wes took delight in a moment of swelling pride for his achievements, though it was strange to feel so good about something that happened so very long ago, it seemed like another life. “I’m pleased there’s at least one person in the world who remembersthat.”
“I doubt I’m the last. I never even had a chance to see you play, but everyone around town knew how good you were. Track and football,right?”
“And basketball…and baseball…and any sport I could play that didn’t affect classes because Mamma wouldn’t allow for that. She was very serious about my education and only approved of me and my siblings spending time in extracurricular activities as long as it didn’t interfere with us receiving a proper education to survive in theworld.”
“Oh yes. We were truly kids of depression-era parents,” Art added. “My mother was the same about education and getting a good job. I definitely wasn’t encouraged to follow any sort of passion, and it was just luck that I happened to enjoy teaching as much as I did and there was a reliable salarythere.”
“Reliable. There’s the word. Yes, I wasn’t to have any dreams that stretched outside of something that could earn me a decent living. Mamma and Pa wouldn’t haveit.”
“The way you say that, it sounds like you had otherdreams.”
Wes side-eyed Art, genuinely surprised by his comment. “Do you think I spent my spare time in my youth daydreaming about working in banking in an office all day? My pa wanted me to serve in the military, like he did, but I was one of those who, unlike my brothers, didn’t agree with us being in Vietnam, so I pretty much shamed my family just by taking on a clerk job at a bank, though I was also the only one whose birthday was outside the draft lottery, so we didn’t have to worry about being made toenlist.”
“We were lucky, in that regard,” Art said. “Three years makes a big difference when you think of what we could have seen and participated in, not by choice. I was a conscientious objector, so I’d never even considered enlisting, and there wasn’t any pressure from my family on thatfront.”
“Yeah, well, Pa wasn’t thrilled about the idea. Told me that I was failing my country and on and on. Of course, only after he passed did we realize how much they’d been lying to us about what was going on over there. And fortunately, I was able to stay with my family and watch them grow up. Things I appreciate a lot morenow.”
“And what was this dream?” Art asked. “The one you neverpursued?”
Wes couldn’t help but snicker, and Art pressed further. “What’s sofunny?”
“Just that it was even a dream. I was going to be a football star. I was going to go on and play in college and then professionally. It’s amusing now because I can’t imagine what I would have spent my life doing beyond that, but I didn’t even try out during college. Gave it up because that was the responsible thing to do…and maybe because I didn’t think I could make it. That’s not something I would have admitted to back then, not even well into my sixties, but I feel that some part of it had to be that. Right?” He looked to Art, who seemed uncertain about how to respond. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that, Art. Such a sour conversation to have. What are the dreams of a kid if not to help him realize he can live a happy life without the fulfillment of any ofthem?”
“Oh, that sounds so bitter, Wes. I didn’t take you for apessimist.”
“No, no. It wasn’t meant as bitterness. I’m sorry if it came across that way. It was meant to be a positive note about how, even though I didn’t live that dream and may have regretted that for a long time, I really enjoyed the life I lived, despite how much it detoured from my expectations anddesires.”
“That’s certainly something I can more thanappreciate.”
Wes found himselfchuckling.
“What isit?”
“Sorry. I’m just amazed that I was droning on about childhood dreams and nonsense with you on what was supposed to be a leisurely stroll through the woods. We can talk about more trivial things like the weather or sports or maybe books, if you prefer, since I’ll likely spend the rest of my years having to catch up with how many you’ve devoured in yourlifetime.”
“I was enjoying the conversation, Wes. It’s nice hearing about your life, filling in the gaps based on what I remember growing up and then what I heardafter.”
“I haven’t given you very many specifics to work offof.”
“You’ve given me more than you realize. I’d much rather talk about your dreams than your résumé, which is usually where people begin to make politeconversation.”
“Are you suggesting we’re makingimpoliteconversation?” Wes winked at Art, who blushed and turned away from him, laughing, and something about that roused excitement withinWes.
Art shook his head as though he disapproved of Wes’s comment, but Wes had a feeling it was pretense. “Oh, WesBrenner.”
As a couple of residents headed down the path, Wes and Art quieted, and Wes felt it was because after the conversation they’d just had, neither could find an appropriate topic to discuss in passing. Based on the silence and friendly greeting of the walkers, Wes wondered if they hadn’t been engaged in their own revealing conversations before encountering one another on thetrail.
They walked farther in comfortable silence, Wes panting as he wiped sweat from his brow. “Do you mind if we take amoment?”
Art agreed, and they stopped at a log that seemed suitable enough for them both to sit down on and catch theirbreath.
