Paying My Respects
Remembering Times Gone By - Paying My Respects
Guitar in my open hand, gazebo over my head, wind whistling in the trees, a smile played out on my face. It was time to go to work. Squirming in my seat on the rail of the gazebo, I held my acoustic guitar. Prepping my right hand to pluck at the strings, but that was not needed; I was going to play a simple song.
I shifted my bag over towards my lap-top carrier with a nudge of my foot that hanged off the side of the railing and took in a deep breath of the spring air. The grass around me shifted slightly in the breeze, the red roses bringing an odd contrast to the green meadow. The birds chirped in the trees, the animals surrounding the meadow inside the forest. Although I couldn’t see them, I knew they were there.
I heard a simple joyful laugh and turned my head to see three kids, wisps of smoke surrounding them, as if they were being recalled from my memory. Again, a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I saw myself and my two best friends run towards the single tree that stood in the middle of the meadow. Apples, red and shinning, glowed in the afternoon sun as they ran up the little steps on the tree-house front porch.
A simple tear, full of the joys of my younger years and the happiness of my older ones, fell down from my eye as I watched them pull out a notepad and began drawing everything around them. I plucked one of the strings and the memory turned towards a different one. This one showing a part of the meadow covered in snow as my two best friends and I stood behind little piles of snow, throwing the icy water over our heads, laughing all the while. Another pluck of the string, another memory played out before me.
This one showed my two best friends staring up at the railings of the gazebo just opposite of me. A brown haired boy sporting a black jumper, blue jeans and a pair of white sneakers sat on the right, a black haired girl sat opposite him, she was wearing a pair of tight blue jeans, brown boots and a short sleeved white tee. Both of their faces were blank, the memory of their faces long forgotten.
That was not what caught my attention most though, what got my attention was the teen sitting on the railing opposite from me, he was wearing a blue shirt with a black zipper jacket, a pair of red sneakers, a pair of black-grey jeans and a black cap with wings printed on both sides, the feathers red and the middle gold, covered his golden-brown and blue dyed streaked hair. He was holding a brown Ashton acoustic guitar with nylon and metal strings. A single pick was in his right hand as he strummed to an invisible music that could only be heard by the three teens.
I plucked another string with pinched fingers as the memory changed. This one showing all three friends huddled around a small bonfire at night, marshmallows on sticks hanging over the fire cooking into a golden brown as they laughed together. The two best-friends faces, still blank as the memories played. ‘Had it really been that long...? That I have forgotten Lucy and Blake’s faces...?’
I stared towards the sky, and a sad smile crept up on me. ‘I’m sorry that I no longer remember my friend’s faces, but I can still cherish the moments we shared together... right...?’
I reached into my bag and pulled out an old black cap, with faded wings on the side. Even after all this time, it still fit snugly on my head. A single blue lock of hair hung over my right eye and I blew it away with a breath of air. You know what they say though, one size fits all. Yeah I call bull on that as well. I was so distracted I didn’t notice a picture fall out of the bag.
I started my strumming, remembering the one song that I wanted to play for my friends before going on one last adventure. You’re only young once!
“This is for you, Lucy and Blake. I hope you’re happy wherever you two are. I know I am.”
As I sang the song the scenery around me shifted to show another, last memory. It showed three friends, all standing together in front of the little club-house. Blake had a tool belt strapped around his waist, while Lucy was leaning against a bike. I saw myself sitting on the railing there, waving at my life-long friends. A guitar, the same one I held as I sung my heart out, strapped to my back as I called out to them.
We all embraced and laughs were shared as we looked at the little club-house, brightly painted in the red rose flowered clearing. The colours clashed with the scenery, but we didn’t care at the time. We knew this would be the last time we saw each other, but we made a promise to each other before we left to go on our journeys. What was left behind, hanging over the club-house door, was a plaque of silver and bronze, and it had an inscription on it.
“No matter where we are or what we become. We will always remain friends, forever...”
Lucy, Blake, Tyrone.
A/N please wait for the song to finish before continuing. Thank you. A/N
I sniffed as I finished the last part of the song, the music dying off in the spring air. Any lasting feelings of regret or nervousness I felt washed away like a stream being cleansed of filth. A sudden feeling of acceptance rushed over me as I smiled into the winking sun as it slipped over the horizon, tucking itself in for the night.
I always knew the day would come where I have to leave my home and journey out into the stars to find my place among them. I just never thought it could be in a bizarre a place as this.
Children’s laughter filled the air again as three sets of four hooves began stomping in the clearing towards the club-house that was a stark contrast to all the green around it, I watched as the gazebo faded from memory, being replaced with an old wood bench. I watched as the flowers disappeared, the red roses fading from my sight as the Cutie Mark Crusaders raced each other to their club-house. The only bright colored thing remaining in the clearing was the club-house itself.
I smiled as the three tumbled into a pile of giggling flailing hooves and wings as they vied for dominance over who would be the clear winner of their little race. Eventually they decided it was a tie and ran inside, no doubt planning another quest in hopes of getting their cutie-marks.
They kind’a reminded me of my friends, Lucy, Blake and myself. No doubt about it. Lucy was always into stunts and motorcycles, Blake was always an architect, and I was always the musical one out of the three of us.
I heard the call for dinner and watched as the three tore off towards Sweet Apple Acres farm house, shouting over their shoulders at me.
“Come on Uncle Tyrone!” Sweetie Belle shouted.
“Yeah Old Man, hurry up!” Scootaloo laughed.
“Yer gonna be late fer dinner!” Applebloom giggled.
Guitar in hand, my two bags slung over my shoulders, and smile plastered on my face as we raced towards the house, I didn’t notice the picture that I had left behind. The three friends smiling as they huddle together, arms locked over each of their shoulders as the camera took their picture. A testimony to what was left behind, to what was lost, and to what would always be cherished.
My Friends...