The Lovely Chocolate Mob - By Richard J. Bennett Page 0,28
really can’t hear a darn thing, so there I am, with a grin on my face, nodding my head to something I can’t quite decipher. I’d rather not be doing that.”
“Well, how do you avoid this, Mr. Owen? That seems to be a part of most large congregations in Protestant churches,” said Miss Planter, revealing that she also knew the usual workings of church practices.
I paused until my answer was clear in my mind. “Since it’s at the beginning of the service, I don’t walk into the auditorium until after this is all over. Then when they’re done with all the handshaking I can enter and sit and listen and enjoy the sermon in peace and quiet, and I don’t feel as though I’ve compromised myself. I know this sounds unusual, but that’s what I do. I’m a bit odd, I guess.”
“No, you’re not odd. I was just concerned.”
“Concerned? About what? My dated views on matrimony?”
“Well, possibly, but… I guess what I was really concerned with is how well you interact with others.”
“I don’t mix well, if that’s what you mean. Yes, I know. It’s one of my many faults, and here you’ve discovered one of them. You’re worried that since I don’t mix well, I’m a bit of an isolationist.”
“Yes, that’s… it sounds as though you’ve already thought of this!” said Miss Planter, who looked at me with puzzlement.
“Besides marriage, I think about other things every day as well,” and I grinned.
Miss Planter also grinned, and looked down to write on her clipboard. It’s good to see her smile; it’s better to make her smile.
Then she hits me with a whammy. “Don’t you think you have rather narrow views on the state of marriage?”
“Narrow views? I’ve thought about that a lot, and would have to say, yes, I do have rather narrow views. But I’ve had years to look at it from many angles, and have seen the social fallout we’re experiencing in our land, and I just can’t come up with anything better. I mean, this marriage business is important; I’ve come to a conclusion about it, which is, if you can’t do it right then don’t do it.”
I looked over at Miss Planter, who was looking at me over her clipboard, studying me.
“Hopefully I didn’t scare you with what I just shared,” I said. “This is extreme to some, I’m sure.”
“No, you didn’t scare me, Mr. Owen,” said Miss Planter, who started writing on her clipboard again. “It’s just that I don’t hear that very often in these sessions.”
“I don’t tell many people how I feel about this issue; some feel that it’s a bit out of date,” I said, hoping to let her know I hadn’t lost touch with reality.
“Being a single man, for most of your life, how do you feel about that?”
“I’ve been a single man for all of my life, and if you mean, do I feel as though I’ve missed out, then yes, I’ve felt that often. I still feel it, in fact. No wife, no companionship, no children, no future. It used to hurt worse, a lot worse, believe me, but I’ve slowly grown accustomed to it. And I do like the peace and quiet in the evenings.”
Miss Planter laughed here, even though this wasn’t meant as a joke. After my surprise, I laughed also.
“Raising children is a lot of work, Mr. Owen. Maybe your different life isn’t so terrible. Do you feel guilty about being single?”
“Now there’s another fair question,” I remarked. “Yes, I’ve felt guilt about my status many times. I haven’t taken care of a wife and I haven’t raised any children, which used to be the accepted norm, smiled upon by society. I wish life could have smiled on me here, but that’s not the way it worked out. I was, however, involved in the care of my parents for years.”
Miss Planter looked over at me.
“I’m proud of that,” I said. “I’d do it again.”
News from Walter
On Wednesday at work, my new cell phone rang; I looked and saw a number I didn’t recognize. I opened it up and said, “Hello?”
An electronic, tinny-sounding voice said, “Tonight, after work, take a walk. Same place. Same time.”
“What?”
“I have news you need to hear.”
Then it hit me. This was Walter.
“Okay, I’ll take a walk.”
The phone went dead. For the rest of the day, work dragged on, since now I was curious about the news that Walter had. I was glad to see five o’clock finally arrive.