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The old woman who lived down by the river wrestled her metal kitchen chair down the steps and placed it on the small patch of grass behind the three-foot wild rose hedge.
She waved to all passersby in cars and trucks. Those on foot, or bicycle were hailed into her web. “Come here.” She would point to the second kitchen chair, the empty one she always left abandoned in her yard, patting the vinyl seat. “Sit down.”
She would wind out her slate of often-told stories and truths. “My husband died 16 years ago.” “Hal was a bastard…fightin’ with me every chance he got.” “We ran a bar down on the Southside.” “He and my father built this house in ’31, on weekends.” “We slept up in the attic of the Slosek’s next door and hammered and nailed all day.” “See the moon up there, everything changed after Glenn walked on that damn thing.” “I go inside promptly at 4. That’s when “Gunsmoke” comes on…how Hal loved that show. I can’t miss it.”
On the other side of town there lived a man. He grew up full of ideas. Then his head hit into the brick wall called reality. So now he drowns out life in a puddle of booze. Oh he is functional. He goes to work each day. In fact he hasn’t missed a day in the last 3 years. And he does have a girl. But happy days are rare in their house. Sad/bad words fly out of their mouths. He spends 8 or more hours a day working for a boss that is a vinegar asshole, then the rest of the night fighting or stowed away in silence.
The curious part is that he is a good man, not a pervert or a sickfuck or anything like that, no, he is a sensitive man, wild on the outside but old-fashioned and awesome on the inside. He is so much fun. If you knew him you would like his crazed ways. All he wants is a normal life, one with love and some peace. He has no idea how to reach it though.
Late one summer afternoon the old lady decided to bake a pineapple upside-down cake. It was Hal’s favorite and on this day she wants to have that bastard close in her heart. So she lines a circular pan with butter and places pineapple rings all around ending with one in the center. She sprinkles in brown sugar and a bit of cinnamon. Next she mixes up a rich batter of flour and eggs and covers the pineapples. Into the oven it goes, 350 degrees for 35 minutes. The sweet aromas fill the old kitchen wafting out the window filling the entire neighborhood. The old lady smiled. She places it on the counter and just looks at it. She cannot eat it because she is diabetic.
Fleeing from another war of words, the man across town takes a walk. He ends up down by the river and suddenly his nose is filled with a forgotten scent. It has been so many years since he smelled it that he isn’t quite sure what it is. Oh, his primal, animal brain awakens; it is the scent of pineapple upside-down cake! His beloved grandmother, the only one who truly cared for him, made it for him when he was a child.
Whoosh! All of the shit of his past few years vanished. Everything was clear. He remembered himself. He thawed out.
He deliberately walked back to his house. He apologized to his girl, “I am leaving. I have tried everything to make this work. You and I are better people apart than we are together. You know it and I know it. I give you back your chance at happiness.” With that he packed a small bag and left.
The next morning he went into his boss’s office and said, “I’m done.” He picked up his few personal things and left.
Last I heard the now-happy man stopped drinking, he found the right girl for him out in the desert, and together they live an intentional life…one filled with laughing and singing. His girl likes naked dancing, privately, only for him. Together they run a small publishing company. They are expecting their first baby any day now.
That is how a lonely old woman saved the life of a man she didn’t ever meet with a pineapple upside-down cake.
