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Fiction- 2nd Place

It was 85 degrees in the Blue Ridge Mountains, which was good for business. Nathan Garretty was content with the way things were going at the shop these days and this made him feel younger than his 67 years. He used to be happy, or some version of it. Since his son had stopped speaking to him, it had taken more and more to get him up in the morning.

The bell on top of the front door jangled. A man and his two sons entered the Blue Ridge knife shop and looked around. Nathan sized them up in a single glance. This was a talent of his and he prided himself on it. The man was perhaps 35, slim, with the suggestion of a belly. The older boy had to be 12, Nathan guessed. He walked next to his father, chest puffed, aware of himself. The younger boy broke from the group to look at the cases of knives Nathan had arranged with care. He was blond with blue eyes. He reminded Nathan of Jesse.

“What can I do for y’all today?” he asked them, arms across the counter.

“We’re just looking,” the father answered. He draped an arm around the older boy. “This is a nice place you’ve got here.”

“Thanks. You feel free to look around. Let me know if you need any help.”

This was something he always said. Only he never needed anyone to tell him that they needed his assistance. He always knew. His wife had said that it was what made her marry him. She called him the Golden Retriever. He wished it had made her stay.

It wasn’t good timing but Nathan was struck by a need to visit the restroom in the back corner of the store. He nodded at his customers as he slipped from behind the counter. The bathroom was nothing to be proud of and he didn’t invite patrons to use it. If they asked him, he’d sometimes oblige, if they wore a certain expression. Mostly, though, he sent them to the public restrooms down the street.

He switched on the light. An exposed light bulb hung from the ceiling and provided enough light for him to make out the toilet. It sat next to a stainless steel mini-fridge, on top of which was a microwave. He rubbed his face, his eyes resting on a jar of almost finished peanut butter.

This would have been a thing for his wife. Had she stayed Molly’d have dressed him up one side and down another for having a refrigerator in the bathroom. She’d have said something about filth and he would have listened for a few seconds, feeling his way around the insults, before tuning her out. She’d keep going, pretending she didn’t know that he’d left town in his mind because by that time she’d be too angry to stop.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror. The face that stared back at him was a version of his own, but several things weren’t right. The lines around his eyes and mouth belonged to someone else and there was more gray in his hair than before. He sighed and looked down at the sink that needed Molly. He didn’t know why he had that damn Sesame Street hand soap, probably got it on sale at the Food Lion. He didn’t have any grandkids that he knew of. That kind of soap would have been for them.

He heard the doorbell sound again. His time was up. He squared his shoulders and walked out of the bathroom, a man returning to battle. He rounded the corner and stood behind the counter again, surveying the room. More customers had filed in the store. He searched the room for the man and his two sons. He had to see the younger boy again. This knowledge welled up in him and took his breath for a moment. The boy stood near the door with a hand in his back pocket.

Nathan stepped from behind the counter for the second time in ten minutes and approached the boy. The boy’s father turned and watched him. Nathan didn’t know what to say. He plunged ahead anyway.

“I’ve been wishing I could say I’m sorry to a boy who looked very much like you, but too much time has passed. He won’t talk to me, now,” he began, a feeble fire in his belly. “I want to say it to you, if you don’t mind, and pretend it’s him.”

The blond boy stared at Nathan and then his father. The older man wouldn’t blame the three of them for leaving at once but they didn’t. The boy’s father hesitated, then nudged his younger son. The boy nodded, wide-eyed.

“If I could go back in time and do things differently, I would, Jesse. But we can never go back. I’m dying now, and this makes it that much sadder for me.”

A group of customers had gathered at the counter, forming a queue. Nathan turned his back on them. He pressed forward.

“I wanted to do things right but I didn’t. The time is gone now and I’m sorry. That’s all.”

The younger boy waited a moment longer. He felt for his father’s hand and the three turned to leave. Nathan watched as they exited the front door. The younger boy turned and looked at him. Nathan noticed the custom, multi-function knife in his back pocket. It was a Blue Ridge special. He looked at the boy, who returned his gaze. Then he turned to his customers and smiled.

Judge’s Comments:

“Excellent, authentic dialogue works to bring the reader into the story. How the protagonist deals with his ‘unfinished’ business moved me. His need to confess his regrets, and how he ultimately makes amends was touching. The story left me wanting to learn more about the main character, and his relationship with his wife and son.”

I’m a writer, musician and world traveler. I write for various online publications as well as fiction. You can find me at prayingwithoneeyeopen.wordpress.com.