The Wachowski's had rarely, if ever, taken an actual family vacation.
But Ellen's therapist had told Boris and Lorraine that taking a small trip may just be key in reigniting their daughters memories. They sat together in a cafe after meeting with that therapist, trying to think of where it was they could easily go for an afternoon, and it was, surprisingly, Lorraine who came up with the answer. She'd pick Ellen up from the hospital, and then she'd come and get Boris, and he could drive them up to the location, and Boris was perfectly fine with this. In fact, that's exactly what he was telling Carol that morning as he packed a day bag. "I'm perfectly fine with this," he said, making Carol scoff as she leaned against his doorframe. "Right, and I'm the queen of England," she replied, "Come on, you hate this woman. You can barely spend ten minutes in the same room with her, and now you're going to spend a whole day in a car together? You're gonna murder eachother." "Well, if that's in fact what it comes to," Boris said, stopping his packing and turning to look at her, "then I want you to have my belongings." "Great, old dusty books and a pair of tube socks. What a winner I am," Carol said, making him laugh; she hesitated for a moment, then asked, "...do you really think this'll work? Do you really think this may actually help Ellen get some of her memories back?" "I don't know, but I'm willing to try. I wasn't willing to try and be a father when I had the chance, but I'm willing to try now," Boris said, "I've let that girl down enough already. It's time to do right." Outside the apartment, a horn honked, and Boris and Carol walked to the window to see Lorraine sitting in the lot in the car, Ellen in the backseat. Carol turned towards Boris as he grabbed his day bag and slung the strap over his shoulder, and she smiled. "Just be careful and have fun," Carol said. "Yes mommy," Boris replied, before hugging her and heading out the door, Carol leaving the opposite direction down the hallway after he locked the door; she was heading back to the home. As he strolled down the hallway towards the staircase, he bumped into Father Krickett, who was coming up the stairs. "Oh, sorry, what're you doing here?" Boris asked. "I came to see you, actually." "Wow, aren't I Mr. Popularity today?" Boris asked, "I'm heading out for the day, so I hope it can wait, whatever it is. I have to do something with Lorraine and Ellen." "It can wait," Father Krickett said, "I'll walk back down with you. No sense in staying here if you're not. I'll head back to the parish, get some paperwork done. Maybe take an early evening. What are you folks doing today?" "Ellen's therapist says it might be best for her if we take a small trip somewhere to help rekindle her memories," Boris said, struggling to hold the bag up, so Father Krickett finally offered to take it; Boris rubbed his shoulder and continued after thanking him, adding, "So we're taking Ellen upstate somewhere, taking her to see something we took her to see as a kid. We're hoping maybe that'll be enough to trigger something at least. It's the simplest thing we can do on such short notice." "You could plan a bigger trip," Father Krickett said, "Actually take some time, put some energy into it. You don't have to go for the simplest thing." "It's a good place to start," Boris replied, "besides, if it doesn't work, then we'll try and take her somewhere else. The thing is, this is also one of the only things we ever did as a family. We never really took vacations but we did do a few things together, and this was just the simplest one, so we're starting there." As they reached the landing and headed out the complex's front doors, the two men stood and looked at one another. Father Krickett smiled and handed Boris his bag back, which he happily took. "Well then, I hope it works, and if it doesn't, I hope you at least have a nice day," Father Krickett said, patting Boris on the shoulder. He then stood back and watched as the old man, bag in hand once more, walked around to the other side of Lorraine's car and pulled the drivers side door open, climbing in. Lorraine had already shifted to the passenger seat in the time it took waiting for Boris to get downstairs. He then started the car and drove off, waving out the window to Father Krickett as he departed. Father Krickett stood there, arms folded, watching and smiling, until they were out of sight. He then turned, and headed back inside and up the stairs. He waited a bit outside the apartment door, until Whittle arrived back home. She was certainly surprised to see him, upon her arrival. As she dug around in her purse for her keys, he took her grocery bags and waited patiently. "We really need to get you your own key. You're here more than I am these days. Really, you should start paying rent," Whittle said, half laughing, Father Krickett laughing along with her as he waited patiently, holding her grocery bags; once the door was opened, she let him in first and then followed him in, adding, "what are you doing here anyway?" "I'm waiting for Boris," Father Krickett said, setting her bags on the kitchen table and then seating himself at it, pulling out his rosary beads and thumbing them gently, "I hope it's okay that I stick around." "Of course, John, you're always welcome here!" Whittle said as she began to unpack the bags and put things away, asking, "Why do you need to see him?" "...because Leanne is about to die, and she asked to see him," Father Krickett said. That certainly got Whittle's attention. *** The place in question was a small park, about two hours away. The only time they'd taken Ellen there had been when she was 8 years old, but it was one of the few memories she held onto dearly, until the surgery, until she lost everything. It was a quiet park, surrounded by beautiful trees with a large fountain for making wishes, and an old, fairly big, wooden playground. Despite not having been there for years, Boris still knew exactly how to get there. Lorraine looked behind them at Ellen, who was asleep in the backseat, headphones over her ears. She then looked at Boris. "How is she?" Boris asked. "She's napping," Lorraine said, "She naps quite a lot. She's been through a number of ordeals for someone her age." "Well, good. Keeps her strength up, I'm sure," Boris said, "...what made you think of this place, anyway?" "Well I remember her talking about it a lot as a kid, but..." Lorraine stopped, sighed and looked out her window, before continuing with, "...I have always remembered it too. It was a good day. It was one of the only good days. We all had such a nice time. She deserves to have a nice time." Boris glanced over and noticed Lorraine was starting to cry, but she quickly wiped her tears away on her sleeve and exhaled deeply, slowly, before turning the heater on her. The cool fall air had begun to leak in through the windows of the car, and she was getting chilly. Boris didn't say anything more. In that moment, he felt more for her than he had in decades. The park, called Harvey Peaks, was completely empty by the time they got there. There was a small manmade lake nearby, which Boris did not remember, meaning he'd either forgotten it entirely or it had been built in the years since their visit, which was certainly a possibility. As Boris parked, he could almost smell the past in the area, and his own eyes started to water. Lorraine opened her door, letting herself out, before going around to the back and pulling the wheelchair out of the back, unfolding it and then wheeling it around to Ellen's side of the car. After they helped her into the chair, Boris stepped back again and looked around once more. It was almost like she was still 8. Like he was still middle aged. Like they were still a family. Before the accident, before everything, it was as if this was the first time they'd visited, and Boris was suddenly struck with a surprising amount of emotion. Lorraine began to wheel Ellen away, but she noticed Boris leaning against the car, hiding his face. She told Ellen she'd be right back, then walked briskly back to the vehicle and put her hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?" she asked softly, as he shook his head. "I'm very much not alright, no," he replied. "It's okay. It's okay to cry," Lorraine said quietly, and much to her surprise, he rested his face on her shoulder and she held him. These two hadn't had any kind of physical contact in ages, and rarely had she ever actually held her husband, but he didn't seem to worry about that anymore. He needed it. Lorraine looked back over her shoulder momentarily at Ellen, who was simply sitting in her wheelchair under a tree, looking up at the bright multicolored leaves. After a few minutes, Boris seemed to have regained his composure and zipped up his jacket. "You ready?" Lorraine asked. "Yeah," he said, "I'm ready." Together they walked back to the tree where Ellen was sitting, and Boris took the handlebars of her wheelchair and began pushing her, Lorraine walking by his side, smiling at the sight. As they continued further into the park, Ellen began looking around in what could only be described as a mixture of awe and confusion. After a few minutes, they stopped at the fountain, and she reached forward, putting her hand in the cool, clean water. "When we brought you here," Boris said, "you kept asking to make wishes in the fountain. I must've given you about 3 dollars worth of change so you could make so many wishes." "Did any of them come true?" Ellen asked. "I don't know, you never told us any of them," Boris said, making Ellen grimace. "How am I supposed to remember things when you guys don't even remember things?" she asked, surprising them both; she added, "I mean, you two seemed to have blocked out your entire time together, so who am I supposed to turn to for help remembering our past if we don't have a past worth remembering?" Boris looked at Lorraine, who just shrugged. He sighed, walked around to the fountain and sat on the lip of it, in front of Ellen's wheelchair, looking up at her. "You're right. Your mother and I have kind of put up barriers between us and within ourselves even because our marriage was so fraught with bullshit, but the one thing we never gave up on was loving you. We remember coming here. We remember seeing you run and play, and how much fun you had. I'm sorry, Ellen, that I don't remember your wishes. I'm sorry that I...that we...screwed things up so badly. But we're trying to fix them now, for you." Lorraine smiled. Boris really had changed in the last few years, and she was so proud of his growth. Ellen smiled too, as she held her fathers hands and rubbed the back of them with her thumbs. "Thanks," she said, "I like the fountain, it's pretty." "It really is," Lorraine said, as the three of them stood there and listened to the running water. The day consisted of not much beyond strolling through the park, trying to see if anything came flooding back into Ellen's brain, but to no avail. After a handful of hours, the trio finally gathered themselves back into the car and Boris started driving again, heading back home. It was getting darker, the sun starting to set behind the trees, and all the streetlamps were coming to life. Boris turned on the radio, tuning it to soft classical music, and the three drove in silence. Halfway there, Ellen shifted in the seat, looking out the window, sighing. "I remember," she said quietly. "What? You remember what?" Lorraine asked, turning to look back at her. "I remember one of my wishes," Ellen said softly, almost whispering, "I don't remember much else, but I do remember one of my wishes in the fountain." "That's great!" Lorraine said happily, making Boris grin as she asked, "What was it?" A moment passed. "I wished you two would stop fighting," Ellen finally replied. The smiles faded from Boris and Lorraine's faces, and nobody said a word the rest of the ride home. *** The door unlocked, Boris coming inside the apartment, when he startled Father Krickett asleep on the couch. Father Krickett sat up suddenly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he and Boris matched sights and Boris stopped in his tracks. "You're home," he finally said. "Yeah. I'm home," Boris said, tossing his keys onto the table near the door and beginning to pull off his jacket. "How was it?" Father Krickett asked, standing up and yawning, stretching. "She remembered something," Boris said, "...just not something we would've liked her to remember." "I'm sorry Boris, but at least she's making progress, and bad memories are just as important as good ones," Father Krickett said. "Yeah, I'm trying not to take it personally," Boris said, sitting on the couch and looking at his hands, his voice lowering as he said, "...how did we screw up so badly? How does everything go so wrong? You get married, you have a family, you think this is what you're supposed to be doing, and then, by the end of your life...you realize it all fell apart and none of it ever meant as much as it was supposed to." "Things only mean as much as the meaning you put into them," Father Krickett said, "for example, someone who believes in God only has as much faith as their belief allows. It doesn't make their faith any less strong or any less valid than someone who, say, regularly goes to church and really leads a spiritual life, it's just a matter of how much you wanna put into it." "So you're saying we didn't wanna put much effort of energy into being parents?" Boris asked. "I don't think that's the case, no," Father Krickett said, "I think you guys wanted to be. I just think once the time came, you didn't know how difficult it'd be, not that that's any excuse for the shortcomings, I'm just...I don't know, Boris, I'm just trying to make you feel better." Boris smirked and patted his arm. "I appreciate it John, thanks," he said, "What're you still doing here anyway?" "Actually, it's what I came by for earlier," Father Krickett said, "...Leanne is about to die, Boris, and she asked to see you." Boris stared at him, his expression that of pure disbelief. "...let me get my coat," he said, and together they headed off once more. Seemed the only people Boris spent his time around anymore were sick people. Makes sense, when he thought about it, considering how sick he actually was inside. But he'd let Ellen down, he wasn't about to let Leanne down as well. On the ride to the hospital she was being held in, neither Boris nor John said a word, but John just looked absentmindedly out the window, chewing on his nails. He wondered how bad the fallout from this would be. He wondered how mad he'd make Boris by lying. But maybe it wouldn't be bad. Maybe he wouldn't be angry. Maybe things would turn out alright. He had to have faith.
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Golden Years follows the exploits of a bunch of old people in a retirement home as they try to have fun, relax or come to terms with the soon to be end of their lives. Archives
April 2024
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