My Sweet Petunia Chapter 5: The Times of Our Lives

“Hello, my sweet Petunia. You’re looking pretty tonight.”

“Why you always call me that Sam?”

“Pretty?”

“A petunia. Why a petunia?”

“It’s a pretty flower.”

“Lots of pretty flowers.”

“I just like petunias in particular.”

“You always say I look good Sam. Good for my age you mean?”

“No, just good. I think you’re beautiful Deborah.”

“How old do you think I am Sam?”

“I don’t know. You never told me.”

“You never told me how old you are neither.”

“You never asked me. You always say it don’t matter, and it

don’t.”

“Just curious though: How old do you think I am?”

“I don’t know Deborah, c’mon.”

“How old do you think I am Sam?”

“I don’t know! Why are we even talking about this!?”

“Because I want to.”

“Why?”

“From all appearances, I’m dating a younger man. Sort of unusual. Most men want to be with a younger woman. Most of them are. They ain’t gonna bother with a woman their age, sure not one that’s older. I’m 52 years old Sam. You can’t be no more than 50, probably younger. You really wanna be with a woman my age? You gonna be there when I’m 55? 60? You still gonna think I’m good looking then? You still gonna call me your sweet Petunia?”

“Of course I will.”

“I ain’t so sure. I haven’t had much luck in my life, especially with men. Why should I be gettin’ lucky now?”

“I just look young Deborah. People always say I look younger than I am.”

“How old are you Sam?”

“About your age.”

“Little younger though, right?”

“It don’t matter. I don’t wanna talk about this no more. Please!”

“Alright Sam.”

“Let me ask you something Deborah. First time we went out, you told me you hated your husband so much, you could have shot him.”

“That’s right.”

“Then I asked you if by ‘could have,’ you meant ‘would like to have’ or ‘might have.’ You remember what your answer was? You said it could have gone either way.”

“I did say that. You thought it was funny.”

“I still do. But you ain’t never said another word about your husband since. Why?”

“It was awful Sam. The most awful thing you can imagine. I feel bad for not talking with you about it. I do. And I will someday, I promise. I just can’t right now.”

“Can’t because it’s too difficult for you, or can’t because something bad might happen if youdid?”

“What are you trying to get at here Sam?”

“Did you kill your husband Deborah?”

“Nah, I didn't kill him. Didn't need to. He was killing himself.”

“What do you mean?”

“He couldn’t live life. Left him empty, empty and bitter. He died a miserable man.”

“Did he beat you?”

“Sure he did. ’Till I was black and blue. ’Till I couldn’t walk no more, or even sit down.”

“You feel you had cause to kill him?”

“Yeah I do, but I didn’t. But he did something worse than beating me Sam.”

“What?”

“He lied to me. All the time. Up and down. Everyday. Just to do it. Even when there was no cause for it. He knew I hated it, so he did it more, and more, and more. But he was a sly one. I couldn’t always tell for sure if he was lying, and he knew it. He played with it. Sometimes he’d tell the truth, sometimes he’d lie, ’till I didn’t know what was for real. I begged him to be right with me! Made him titter. Then he’d scow n’ holler at me, ‘What’s wrong with you, Debbie?,’ and he’d beat me some more. Two hours later, he said he didn’t remember doing it. Next day, he swore he never done it.”

“He must have known he done it.”

“’Course he did. Maybe he didn’t wanna. I don’t know. Don’t matter.”

“Geez, Deborah. I don’t know what to say. I shouldn’t have asked you about it. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do nothing wrong Sam. You didn’t know.”

“Oh honey, come here. I’d do anything to make that pain go away.”

“I know you would Sam. But I can’t be around you when I think about him.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I ain’t in my right mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“I imagine what I’d do to him.”

“Like you’re in a dream?”

“No. It ain’t like a dream. It’s a fantasy. It’s a horrible fantasy.”

“You can tell me Deborah.”

“Oh Sam!”

“It’s OK, Deborah. Really. You can tell me. You tell me anything. Anything in the world.”

“I play it over and over in my head.”

“What?”

“I walk in that garage, and I slip the noose around his neck. Then I tighten it, until his eyes almost bust out. But not enough to kill him. Not yet. I make sure of that. I torture him. I torture his mind. I laugh at him wigglin’ in that noose. I say, ‘Aw honey, what’s wrong? Why you squirming like that? Here, let me ease that a little for you. That’s better, isn’t it love? Why would anyone want to hurt you? It ain’t right. I know you wouldn’t never want to hurt me, would you honey? Here, let me tighten that up a little more for you. Wouldn’t want to see you fall down and cry. I just want to make you happy. All I’ve ever wanted is to make you happy.’

I keep paintin’ that scene ’till I can’t take it no more, or ’till I’m bored. Then, I raise a shot gun, I take a step back, look him square in the eye, and I blow his fucking brains out all over the garage, blood everywhere. Then I just stand there, not laughing no more, not crying, not trembling, not happy, not sad, not even satisfied with what I done. I just look at ’em, hanging there. Bastard. Ain’t no way I can let you see me like that Sam. I feel evil when it happens. I am evil when it happens. More evil than Lucifer himself. More evil than anyone that’s ever been.”

“You’re not evil Deborah. You could never be evil. You’re the kindest, most loving woman I’ve ever known. God knows you are. The Father knows. What I don’t know is why The Father would hurt you like that, His own creation. Why would He do that to you? Why would He do it to any of his children?”

“Sam?”

“What honey?”

“Have you really worked on the farm for 28 years?”

“I have Deborah. Yes, I have.”

“What did you do before that?”

“You mean for work?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh geez, it’s been a long time. I’ve done a lot of jobs…”

“Which one maybe you done the most?”

“I worked in a tavern for a couple years.”

“What did you do?”

“First, I worked in the kitchen, washing dishes mainly. Then, I was a bar back, and eventually, bar tender.”

“Did you like being a bar tender Sam?”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s interesting. You get to understand people.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, people who hang out at the bar, especially the regulars, and especially men, they tell you a lot, a lot about themselves, their whole life stories sometimes. ’Course you want to get ’em liquored up, so you talk with them. You listen to them. You figure out what they want to hear, what makes them happy, what makes them sad, what they don’t want to know about themselves. Especially that, what they don’t want to know about themselves. So you help them. You help them pull the wool over their eyes.”

“Where did you work?”

“Like I said, first in the kitchen, then at the bar.”

“No, I mean what town?”

“Geez, Deborah, it’s been so long. I don’t remember... Oh, you know where it was? Milwaukee! In Milwaukee! Ain’t that funny? What a coincidence.”

“You told me you never been to Milwaukee Sam.”

“No…”

“Yeah you did Sam, first time we met at the restaurant. You asked me where I was from. I said Milwaukee, and you said you’d never been there.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“Sam? How old are you? Really? Please, don’t lie to me Sam. I don’t care how old you are. I just want to know. Please Sam. Sam? Sam!? Sam! What’s wrong!?”

“I don’t know. I can’t breathe right.”

“Is your chest painin’?”

“Yeah. It hurts real bad. It’s all tight, like someone’s squeezing on it.”

“I think you’re having a heart attack Sam. Here, let me help you sit down. Try to calm your body. You’re gonna be OK, honey. I’ll call an ambulance.”

“Jesus, don’t let me die! Please don’t let me die! I ain’t ready to go yet!”

*****

“Thank God you got here fast! Please help him!”

“We'll get him to the hospital right away ma’am. Do you have his wallet? I’m sorry to ask you that, but they’re going to want his health insurance card at the hospital.”

“Alright, I’ll bring it with me.”

*****

“Yes ma’am?”

“They brought my friend to the emergency room. I think he had a heart attack!”

“What’s his name?”

“Sam. Sam Widdershins. Is he alright?”

“I don’t know ma’am. Do you have his health insurance card?”

“Yes, here you go. Can I see him?”

“No, I’m afraid you can’t ma’am, not now. There’s a waiting room over there. Someone will come out and talk with you when they can.”

*****

“Deborah?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m Deborah.”

“Hi, I’m Dr. Blanc. Are you Mr. Widdershins’ wife?”

“I’m his friend. Is he OK?”

“He’s going be OK, ma’am. We want to keep him here a little while longer, but he’s going be OK. How old is Mr. Widdershins?”

“I’m not sure. Let me get his driver’s license. Says he was born in 1905; that’d make him 48.”

“That’s young to be having a heart attack. Mr. Widdershins needs to take better care of himself.”

“Yeah, he does. Can I go see him?”

“Yes, you can. He’ll be discharged in a couple hours, but yes, you can see him.”

*****

“Sam! You’re alright! They say you’ll be alright!”

“Yeah, they say I will.”

“You will honey. You really gave me a scare. The doctor said you’re young to be having a heart attack.”

“He told you how old I am?”

“No, your birthdate’s on your driver’s license Sam.”

“I lied to you Deborah. I’ve lied to you a lot. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

“Why didn’t you want me to know how old you are Sam?”

“Because I didn’t want you to think I might leave you, just like you were saying. But I would never leave you Deborah. Never in my life. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I won’t never again! I swear I won’t!”

“Ain’t no hanging offense Sam.”

“It ain’t?”

“Nah. I ain’t killin’ ya off yet. You’re too young.”

“Oh God Deborah! Thank you! I don’t know what I’d do without you!”

“You’d be dead, that’s what you’d be doing.”

“Yeah...”

“Do you want to be dead, Sam?”

“No.”

“Alight then.”

“I gotta ask you something Deborah.”

“Alright.”

“It’s important.”

“OK.”

“Real important.”

“What is it, Sam?”

“Will you marry me, Deborah?”

“Oh my God, Sam! You really asking? Nah, you’re kidding, right?”

“I’d be on bended knee if I could.”

“Nahhhh… For real? You proposing to me for real?”

“I am Deborah. Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes Deborah, really.”

“Then I accept.”

“Really?”

“Yeah Sam, really.”

“I love you Deborah. I love you with all my heart.”

“I love you too Sam. But Sam…”

“What Deborah?”

“You best be damn sure you want this. You’ll be marrying an older woman, four years your senior. I ain’t no lambkin.”

“Deborah, look I—”

“You want to spend the rest of your life growing old with me? You sure? ’Cause if I’m gonna marry you, that’s what it means. Till death do us part. Ain’t no middle ground.”

“Till death do us part.”

“You have to promise me something Sam.”

“I’ll be true to you Deborah. I’ll never cheat on you. I swear!”

“Yeah, I know that. I’d shoot you first. It’s something else.”

“Anything in the world Mrs. Widdershins.”

“I’m serious Sam.”

“OK…”

“You gotta start taking care of yourself. No more heart attacks. I mean it Sam. I already had one husband kill himself, and I thank Jesus every day that he did, but if I’m gonna marry you, you gotta stick around. No more eatin’ beef sandwiches at the diner. Damn things ’ll kill ya.”

“I will Deborah, I promise. I got a reason to now.”

“Oh Sam, I can’t believe it! We’re gonna get married! We’re really gonna get married!”

“Sam? Deborah? Can I come in?”

“Ralph! Hey Ralph!!

“Jesus, I could hear you two half a mile down the hall! What’s going on? For God’s sake Sam, you’re animated as the Merrie Melodies! From what Deborah said, I thought you were dying!”

“Not no more, I ain’t. I’m alive Ralph. I’m truly alive.”

*****

“Mornin’ Ralph.”

“Mornin’ Sam. You’re recovering good Sam. I’m glad you took the time off work.”

“Yeah, I needed to...”

“Guess what Sam? I'm getting my commercial license! I’m really gettin’ it! Maybe another year, I’ll be licensed to fly a real airliner, one of the big ones. They’re saying that pretty soon there’ll be jet airliners flying people everywhere, all over the world! I’m gonna be a captain of one of them airliners someday, you’ll see!”

“I bet you will Ralph. I know you will. God knows you put a mind to it, just like everything you do. You always have.”

“Thanks Sam.”

“I’m gonna miss you Ralph. A lot.”

“I’m gonna miss you too Sam. Don’t worry, I’ll come around, maybe more than you want. You’ll probably get sick of me.”

“I could never get sick of you Ralph. I love you like a son. You’ll come to the wedding, right?”

“Of course I will Sam. Wouldn’t miss it for the world, even if I have to fly halfway around it to get there.”

“You know where we’re thinking of going for our honeymoon?”

“Letcher county?”

“Paris.”

“Nahhh…”

“Yeah. Deborah’s always wanted to go there.”

“Maybe I’ll fly you there, who knows? Food’s supposed to be good. I hear they do wonderful things with lamb.”

“I could never eat one of them Ralph. They’re the kindliest of God’s creatures.”

“I’m glad you’re gonna quit the job Sam. Not with your full pension, I know, but with a lot of it. It’s not a bad deal.”

“No, I guess not. You know what Ralph? They gave me a gold watch. How you like that? I thought it was pretty decent of ’em at first. But you know what? It wasn’t made of gold. It was a cheap piece of crap. I saw one just like it at the dime store for two bucks. Damn thing broke in a couple weeks. You believe that?”

“You don’t need a gold watch to know how to live Sam.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

“You got a lot of good years left in you Sam. You’re still young.”

“Yeah, I am, and I’m learning to be happy about it… You remember what I told you about Einstein Ralph?”

“Sort of. He said time isn’t real, right?”

“Not exactly. He said time is relative.”

“To what?”

“To everything.”

“I'm glad you got Deborah to care for you Sam. She's a lovely woman, and more prettier than not.”

“Yes she is. And I love her. I love her so much. My sweet Petunia.”