The Yard Sale

"It's not just a yard sale," Tom said. "It's an adventure."

"I'm not sure we share the same definition for 'adventure'," Sally replied.

"There are a thousand stories waiting to be told in this suburban front yard," Tom said. 

"I'm not sure we share the same definition for a 'thousand', either," Sally said, giving  Tom an inscrutable smile as she looked over boxes of paperback books, CDs, and DVDs set out on a card table. "I think there's just one story here and it's boring."

"Fine," Tom said, standing at the next table. He stirred jewelry in trays with his index finger; ear rings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings tumbled one over the other as he waited for the treasure he didn't even know he was looking for to manifest itself. That's how adventure works. You never see it coming till it hits you in the face, he thought. Or kicks you in the -

"So tell me a story," Sally said in a conciliatory gesture. "How about Story #633?"

Tom noticed the ring, a silver band with a woven, interlocking pattern he thought he recognized as Celtic, and held it up. "Story #633 was told by a grandfather to his grandchildren, the story of a poor young man with little to no prospects in this world, who one day took the love of his life to a yard sale, looking for bargains in the boxes of old clothing, dishware, and whatever other treasures they might find there, as they could afford so little. There he found a ring that cost the princely sum of $1.00. The ring was struck with strands of silver that the young man felt represented how his and his true love's lives were intertwined and how their love was endless. The young man brought the ring to the girl he loved, knelt before her, and said, 'This ring may be humble, as am I, but I could be the richest man in the world and still not be able to find a ring that matches the value of my love for you. Will you marry me?'"

Tom noticed the look of surprise or confusion or shock or, well, horror on Sally's face. They had been together for three years now and it seemed that lately both of them were inadvertently confronting the obvious inflection point in their relationship. Tom wanted to punch his subconscious in the face. For an uncomfortable moment, he wasn't sure what to say next. Or what he wanted Sally to say. Perhaps the look of horror on Sally's face was merely a reflection of his own. 

An older woman in a blue floral print dress at the next table broke the silence, asking, "Well, did she say yes?"

Tom smiled, relieved. "She did."

"May I see that ring," the woman said. Tom noted the woman's face, careworn but with such kind eyes, eyes that had seen and forgiven a lot in her lifetime. Her hair was gray, cut short and styled. Tom thought she looked like she should be the picture next to 'Sweet Little Old Lady' in the dictionary. Perhaps it was the resemblance.

"Of course," Tom said, handing it to her. He glanced at Sally before adding, "Keep it if you like." Looking back at the old woman he said, "My name is Tom. I hope you don't mind me saying you look a lot like my Grandma Jameson, my father's side of the family. Her name was Letitia and everyone called her Lettie."

The old woman said, "Not at all, Tom." She smiled. "After all, I am a grandmother. My name is Virginia and everyone calls me Ginny." She held up the ring. "Thank you." She gestured to the back of the yard. "And that little boy is my grandson, Sam. But he won't tolerate being called Sammy."

"Would you mind giving me a hug?" Tom asked. "Grandma hugs are the best."

The old woman smiled. "I think that would be nice." They hugged and Tom thanked her.

"Well, it was nice talking to you," she said. She walked away, taking short, careful steps in the direction of her grandson.

"So," Sally said. "Grandpa bought the love of his life a cheap, second-hand wedding ring of unknown provenance is Story #633."

"I don't think your synopsis really does Story #633 justice," Tom said. He noticed a set of beach chairs and fishing gear in a back corner of the yard. "I think I may have just spotted Story #101," he said, making a casting motion with his right arm. "You know the one where I become a Zen fly fisherman?"

"I am all too familiar with Story #101," Sally said, returning to her search for a book that was actually worth the $0.25 asking price. "I could get some lunch whenever."

"Okay," Tom said. "I'll just be a minute."

Tom took more than a minute, more than fifteen minutes, while Sally wandered about the tables, boxes, and racks of old clothing. By the time Tome found her again, she had completed her journey through the yard sale, making her way from the big cardboard boxes of books, CDs, and DVDs, to small shoe boxes of old phones, TV remotes, an external hard drive with an assortment of cables; the odds and ends of a modern life lived and discarded.

"I take it the fish weren't biting?" Sally asked.

Tom shrugged. "Some dreams are best unrealized," he said. "That way, it remains a dream and never becomes a disappointment."

Sally wasn't quite sure why but Tom's words stung. "You told me when we stopped that one man's trash is another man's treasure," Sally said, as she picked up and held a TV remote control, "but I think this man's trash is junk. Seriously, who is buying something like this?"

Tom held out his hand and Sally gave him the device. 

"Let me tell you another story. Story #714. The Universal Remote Control," Tom said.

"And then can we get some lunch?" Sally asked.

Tom tossed the remote control back into the box. "Where would you like to go? We haven't gone to Pepperland in a while."

"I hate it when you do that," Sally said.

"Do what?" Tom asked.

Sally didn't think 'You're always trying to please me' was the argument to make when picking a fight. Why did it bother her? Why did he never fight back? Tom was definitely, if illusively, a problem for Sally. Tom was a possibility, but saying yes to that possibility felt like saying no to so many others; to everything else. She picked up the remote and handed it to Tom. "Tell the story and then we'll go get lunch."

Tom took the remote control from Sally. 

"Please," Sally said, in a tone more demanding than conciliatory.

"Pepperland?" Tom asked with a smile, trying to lighten the mood, trying to lighten his suddenly leaden mood.

"Sure," Sally said. 

"Okay," Tom said. "Story #714. The Universal Remote Control. A young couple stopped at a yard sale. The young man noticed what looked like a universal remote control device but he didn't recognize the brand name of 'Zeni'."

"The 'th' is worn off," Sally said.

"The end," Tom said, and held the remote control out to Sally.

"I'm sorry," Sally said. "Go on."

Tom continued. "The device was, indeed, universal, in that it was not of this earth, as the young man soon discovered when he tapped the Rewind button, and looked up to see himself and his girlfriend arriving at the yard sale. This universal remote, the young man realized, controlled time. The young man watched the couple argue as they got out of the car. The young man was promising his girlfriend they would only stay for 15 minutes but she did not look happy about it. The young man felt sad watching this so he pushed the Rewind button again, and this time he saw himself and his girlfriend on the couch in his apartment. They were arguing about a movie." 

"You're still wrong about 'The Last Jedi'," Sally said.

"So the young man hit the Rewind button again. This time he stopped at his first date with his girlfriend, a blind date, an evening of awkward silences punctuated by the young woman's bitterness and recriminations against boyfriends past. The man pushed the Pause button on the universal remote control. If he pushed the Rewind button again it would take him to a time before he met his girlfriend, but despite all that he had seen in his travels through time, he hesitated." Tom paused for effect. "Then he tapped the rewind button again."

Sally interrupted. "I don't like this story."

"Really?" Tom said. "I thought you would."

"Really? You thought I would. You thought I'd like being cast as the bitch in your stupid, ridiculous story?"

"Well, I cast myself as the fool," Tom said. Sally did not return his smile. He tossed the remote control into the shoe box. "Let's get some lunch."

Sally picked up the remote control and handed it back to him. "Finish the story."

Tom took the device from Sally. "Okay," he said. "After tapping the Rewind button the young man found himself standing outside the restaurant with his past self, who was looking in through the front window at his blind date. 'She's pretty,' the young man's past self said. 'No,' the young man said to his past self. 'She's beautiful.' Then the young man told his past self everything that was about to happen on his blind date, and not just that, but everything that would happen over the next three years between the young man and the young woman he was about to meet. Everything that is, except for one thing; how they would end." 

After a moment, a voice asked, "Then what happened?" It was the sweet, little old lady in the blue floral print dress again. "Do they live happily ever after?"

Tom smiled. "That's exactly what the young man's past self asked. But the young man couldn't answer that question. 'I can go back in time using the Rewind button and I can return to the present by hitting the Live button but it seems the Fast-Forward button is broken,' the young man explained to his past self. The young man's past self thanked his future self, took a deep breath, and turned to go into the restaurant. 'Wait!' the young man called out to his past self. 'Are you sure you want to do this? After everything I've told you? Knowing all of that but not knowing how it will end?' The young man's past self said, 'No matter how it ends, I'm not going to miss out on a chance for love, for the best three years of my life, and for whatever else happens ever after'. And with that, he went into the restaurant." 

The sweet, little old lady in the blue floral print dress sniffed and dabbed a tear from her cheek with a wadded up tissue she had pulled out of her purse. "Well, it may be wishful thinking on my part, but I will always believe they lived happily ever after."

Tom looked at Sally. He felt like a huge weight had been lifted, like chains that bound him had been broken. He felt like he could breathe again. He felt… happy? At peace? Had he just talked himself into it? Or had he finally just listened to that little voice inside, telling him what he had known all along?

"So do I," Tom said.