The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper

by Phaedra Patrick

It was difficult to remember when he stopped being young and became an old man.

They had their own lives now. Where once Miriam was their sun and he their moon, Dan and Lucy were now distant stars in their own galaxies.

The grass was damp and squeaky. The buttery sun made it sparkle. It was a beautiful day.

He regretted it now. They should have visited new places together, had new experiences when the kids got older. They should have grasped the opportunity to do what they wanted to do and expand their horizons, especially now he knew that Miriam had lived a fuller, more exciting life before they met. He had stifled her. He had been so set in his ways.

As Arthur walked to Lucy’s he took in the sights and sounds around him that he didn’t usually notice, stopping occasionally to admire what a beautiful place he lived in. The fields in the distance were a patchwork of greens. He noticed bursts of daisies sprouting from the cracks in the pavement. He was aware of each step he took, from the soreness of his ankle to the thrilling feeling that he was moving closer to his daughter.

I’m learning that it’s the things you say and do that people remember you for. She is no longer here but she lives on in people’s hearts and minds.”

Scarborough College was a swarm of students. They moved as if one, through the reception area and into the corridors that led off it like a termite mound. The youth and vitality surrounding Arthur made him feel very, very old. These young people would think they had their whole lives in front of them, unaware that it would pass in the blink of an eye.

“I’m being silly. I forgive you. You didn’t tell me things because you thought it was for the best. I have to trust that you did it for the right reasons. And I’m still alive. I wish you were, too, but you’re not. And I want to live even though it hurts. I don’t want to be a dried-up crab.”

“Well, you should spend that cash. Blow it all on something that makes you happy. You can make memories out of money, but you can’t make money out of memories, unless you’re an antiques dealer. Bear that in mind, Arthur, my old son.”