The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper

by Phaedra Patrick

He recalled a conversation with Miriam once. He had asked what she wanted for her birthday and she told him not to bother getting her anything; there was nothing she wanted. So he’d just got her a card and a small bunch of white freesias. That evening she barely spoke to him and when he finally asked why she was so snippy, she told him that she had expected a gift. “But you told me not to get you anything,” he protested. “Yes, but it’s a figure of speech. Like when you see a woman is upset and you ask her what’s wrong and she says, ‘Nothing.’ She doesn’t mean it. She means that something is wrong and that she wants you to ask her again what it is, and to keep on asking until you get an answer. You should have wanted to buy me a present, even if I told you I didn’t want anything. It was your chance to show you care.”

Arthur thought about how it was possible for memories to shift and change with time. To be forgotten and resumed, to be enhanced or darkened as the mind and mood commanded.

Sometimes you hold on to things, not because you want to keep them, but because they are difficult to let go.