For Auld Lang Syne
Gary Hyland pulled off River Road and parked his Ford Fairlane on the playground's gravel parking area. He picked the newspaper up off the front seat and walked to a bench beneath a brilliantly colored tree, paying no attention to the sound of children's laughter that pierced the warm autumn afternoon. Meanwhile, mothers and babysitters gossiped together as the children played, and no one took notice of the man who came to the playground without a child.
After a quick glance at the faces of the adults, Gary sat down opposite the swing set. He opened his paper and pulled the brim of his Red Sox cap over his eyes. To passersby, he looked like a man who had come to the park to relax, read The Boston Globe and enjoy one of the last warm days of the year. No one would guess he had journeyed a great distance just to sit on that specific bench.
He looked at his watch. The boy would be coming home from school soon. She would be waiting at the bus stop for him, and then the two of them would walk to the playground, hand in hand.
Gary scanned the Globe's sports section. It was opening day of the World Series: the New York Yankees versus the Los Angeles Dodgers, their old adversaries from Brooklyn. It was bound to be a good game with Sandy Koufax going up against Whitey Ford, but Gary wasn't interested in baseball—not today anyway.
The minutes slowly ticked by, and there was still no sign of the woman and the boy. He glanced at his watch again. When he looked up, he saw two figures nearing the playground. As he gazed at her over the top of his newspaper, his heartbeat quickened and his hands trembled.
After all this time, he thought, watching her cross the street, tightly holding on to the boy's hand.
Heading toward the swings, she passed within a few feet of him. It took all Gary's self-control not to reach out and touch her.
"Wait for me," she playfully called to the boy who ran ahead.
Gary raised his eyes and examined her face. He had almost forgotten how beautiful she was. A warm autumn breeze carried the scent of her perfume to him: Evening in Paris. It brought tears to his eyes. She turned briefly in his direction, and he tensed and held his breath. Did she recognize him? If she did, she gave no sign of it.
"Not so high!" she warned the boy.
Keeping up the pretense of reading the newspaper, Gary turned the page of The Boston Globe, but his eyes never left her.
"Can I get ice cream on the way home?" the boy asked.
Gary shook his head with disgust. Everything had been perfect up until that moment. Why did the boy have to spoil it?
"As long as you promise to eat your dinner," she bargained.
Eventually the boy grew tired of arcing back and forth through the air and got off the swing.
"Do you want to go down the sliding pond?" she asked.
"Nah. I'm getting too old for that," the boy replied. "Why don't we go get ice cream now?"
No, don't go! Gary thought. Stay a little while longer.
But the boy headed toward River Road, and she followed closely behind. Gary got up from his bench and walked to his car, never letting her from his sight until she turned the corner and vanished behind a building. With her gone, it was as though the sun had been ripped from the sky, leaving a gray autumn day behind. Bereft of her presence, he got into his Fairlane, started the engine and drove away.
* * *
After Gary returned to his auto body shop, he got himself a cold bottle of Coca-Cola out of the soda machine and sat down on the fraying couch in the waiting area. Exhausted, he put his feet up on the coffee table and closed his eyes. The trip had left him physically and emotionally drained.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw the unopened mail on the counter. He didn't bother to read it. The words stamped in red on the outside of the envelopes—OVERDUE and FINAL NOTICE—told him everything that he needed to know about their contents.
Gary looked forlornly around the shop. If he didn't pay his bills soon, he would lose it. Sadly, losing was something he had grown accustomed to. He had lost his house the year before and his wife shortly thereafter. All he had left was his business, and he was holding on to it by a slender thread.
As he finished his Coke, he felt his eyes grow heavy. He tossed the empty bottle into the trash and then curled up on the couch and fell asleep. Although the second-hand sofa was far from comfortable, Gary slept through the night. He was awakened at six the following morning by the sound of the sanitation truck compacting its garbage.
After downing another Coke, he stumbled to the bathroom where he washed, shaved and brushed his teeth. He looked at the Fairlane in its place of honor in the right-hand bay. Was it only yesterday that he made the journey to see her? Already it seemed like an eternity ago.
The calendar on his desk showed only one customer was scheduled for the morning: a woman who had minor damage on the rear of her Toyota from hitting a tree as she tried to back into a parking space. The woman promised to drop the car off around nine o'clock, so he had plenty of time to run to the Puritan Falls Diner for breakfast.
As Gary drove down Essex Street, several people recognized his Ford pickup and waved to him. He wondered if anyone would miss him when he was forced to sell the shop. He didn't want to think about what would happen next and what he would do for a living. He could collect unemployment benefits, but they wouldn't last forever. There was little doubt that his future looked grim.
"Hi," the woman behind the counter called when he entered the diner. "Have a seat. I'll be right with you."
Although he had seen her two to three times a week for the past three months, Gary never realized how pretty the waitress was, until that morning.
"What'll you have today?" she asked as she wiped his table with a dishrag.
"Two eggs over easy and a cup of coffee," he replied, not even bothering to read the menu.
While he was waiting for his food, the mechanic heard the door open. A lone man walked into the diner and took a seat at a booth across from Gary. The stranger was short and stocky, had tightly curling black hair and looked as if he hadn't shaved that morning.
"You look familiar," Gary said, trying to put a name to the face.
"We did business a few months ago," the stranger replied. "The name is Applebee. Omar Applebee. I sold you a car."
Of course! How could he have forgotten? This was the man who had sold him the Ford Fairlane.
"How's the car doing?" the disheveled stranger asked.
"Fine. I got it looking like new."
"Have you found a buyer for it yet?"
"Actually, I thought I'd keep it myself—for a while, at least."
Applebee smiled and his eyes twinkled.
"Nothing like an old car to bring back memories, eh?"
Gary blanched. What was the stranger implying?
Relax, he told himself. He can't possibly know about my trip yesterday.
The waitress—Eva Marie was her name, according to her nametag—brought out his breakfast and then turned to take the stranger's order. Gary ate quickly, not only because he wanted to get back to his shop by nine but also because he found being near Omar Applebee more than a little disconcerting.
* * *
By five o'clock, his customer's car was fixed, and the owner had paid her bill and driven away. Gary kept the shop open for another four hours, but no one phoned or stopped in. Finally, he flipped the OPEN sign over to read CLOSED, pulled the shades on the windows and locked the door.
A week earlier, he had been forced to give up his small apartment and was now living in his shop. He didn't mind sleeping on the couch, but he did miss having a kitchen and a shower.
After getting an inexpensive hamburger at a nearby fast food restaurant, he returned to the shop for the night. Bored, he turned on the television in the waiting area, but since there was nothing on he felt was worth watching, he turned the power off and picked up a magazine from the coffee table. Although he tried to read, he couldn't keep his mind off the Fairlane.
She'll be helping the boy with his homework now, he thought longingly.
"No!" he told himself forcefully. "I can't go back there again. If she sees me, who knows what might happen? There could be serious ramifications."
But what would the possible danger matter in the long run? In another month or so he would probably lose his business and be homeless.
Feeling the anticipation build, Gary reached into his pocket and took out his keys. With a bittersweet smile, he unlocked the door to the Fairlane and got in behind the wheel.
* * *
As Gary drove down River Road, he noticed the weather was not nearly as warm as it had been the previous day. Although it was early autumn, there was a hint of winter in the air. She would have a fire lit, and after the homework was done, she and the boy would undoubtedly drink hot cocoa in front of the fireplace.
He parked the Fairlane a block away from her house and got out and walked the rest of the distance. There were no stars or moon out, but he knew his way in the dark.
There was a light burning in the kitchen and another in the living room. He walked across the yard and up to the window. Careful not to be seen by the neighbors, Gary cautiously peeked inside. There she was, sitting at the kitchen table, trying to help the boy solve a math problem.
A wild thought came to him. What would she do if he walked around to the back door and went inside? He gave no thought as to what the boy's reaction might be, only hers. He stood there, staring through the window for fifteen minutes, uncertain of what to do. The more time that passed, the more he wanted to go inside, to be with her regardless of the consequences.
Then, as Gary struggled with his indecision, the woman suddenly turned in his direction. His heart racing, he quickly backed away into the shadows. A few moments later, her face appeared at the window, looking out into the night.
She saw something, he realized.
But did she know someone was there? Probably not. It was dark outside, and she couldn't have seen too far. Still, the close call had frightened him. He hurried back to his car. What was he thinking? He couldn't let her see his face because doing so might destroy the perfect world she shared with the boy. And she had so little time left to enjoy it.
* * *
The second trip left Gary even more fatigued than the first had. He scarcely had enough strength to open a bottle of Coca-Cola before collapsing onto the waiting room couch.
Another such trip could kill me, he thought.
Death, however, held no fear for him. In fact, he sometimes thought it would solve all his problems.
After downing the Coke in three gulps, he put the empty bottle on the coffee table and lay down. He was asleep before his head hit the arm of the couch.
The following morning there was no garbage truck to wake him. He slept until noon when he heard someone banging on the front door of the shop.
Did I have a customer scheduled today? he wondered as he stumbled across the floor.
He didn't think so.
He opened the door and found Eva Marie, the waitress from the diner, standing on the welcome mat, with her hand raised to knock again. When she saw Gary's appearance, the smile vanished from her pretty face.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"Yeah. I must have fallen asleep," he apologized.
"Did you work all night?"
Tired as he was, Gary couldn't come up with a believable lie, so he simply told the truth.
"You're living here in your shop?" Eva Marie asked with disbelief.
"I have nowhere else to go," he admitted.
"There's a studio apartment above the diner. I've been thinking of renting it out, but I haven't gotten around to placing an ad in the paper. It's not much, but it's got a kitchenette and a bathroom with a shower stall."
"That's kind of you," he replied, surprised that she was the owner of the diner. "But frankly I don't have the money to pay the bills on this place much less rent an apartment, too."
"I'm sure we can work something out," Eva Marie said. "I need some work done on my car, and I can always use help at the diner. When things pick up here, we can discuss your paying rent."
Gary noticed she said when and not if.
She's an optimist, he thought, not in the least bit surprised.
* * *
Life improved somewhat for Gary Hyland when he moved into the apartment above the diner. To earn his keep, he worked behind the counter in the evenings after his auto shop closed. He also served as a general handyman. In appreciation of his hard work, Eva Marie insisted he keep his tips and also provided him with meals free of charge.
The autumn gave way to winter, and with the inclement weather there were more fender benders, which meant an increase in his business. He made enough money to pay his past due bills but not enough to afford rent. Still, being out of debt made the holiday season less depressing.
"I'm going to Vermont for Christmas," Eva Marie informed him shyly. "Why don't you come with me? There's plenty of room at the farmhouse."
"I appreciate the invitation, but I've already made plans for the holiday."
This was a lie; Gary had no plans. In fact, he would have liked to have gone to Vermont, but he didn't want to intrude on a family gathering.
Before Eva Marie left for the country on Christmas morning, she sent a platter of food up to Gary's room, just in case he got hungry during the day. She had even taken the time to bake him an apple pie, which tasted almost as good as those his mother used to bake for him.
Alone in the apartment, Gary soon began to miss Eva Marie. He realized how much time they had spent together lately and how close they had become. There was no romance between the two, just a growing friendship. Still, there were things the two didn't discuss: his family, for one, and the mysterious trips he made in the Ford Fairlane he had purchased from Omar Applebee, for another.
With the shop and the diner both closed, there was nothing for him to do. Bored, he turned on the television, but the sentimental Christmas programs only intensified his loneliness. As a man who was barely able to hold on to the remnants of his shattered life, he did not enjoy It's a Wonderful Life, and even the comic A Christmas Story failed to improve his humor.
Although he had not planned on leaving the apartment, he decided to go out for a walk. Like metal shavings drawn to a magnet, Gary instinctively headed toward his auto body shop. He unlocked the door, went inside and walked toward the Fairlane that was still parked in the right-hand bay.
Christmas. It was the day she looked forward to all year long. What harm would it cause if he got into the Fairlane and drove to her house one more time? Just one glimpse through the kitchen window to see her and the boy eating Christmas dinner.
Unable to fight the fierce desire to see her, he once again got behind the wheel of the Fairlane and started the engine.
* * *
There were several inches of snow on the ground, and more was falling from the sky. As Gary neared the house in the growing darkness of evening, he gave no thought to the footprints he made in the virgin snow. His thoughts were only on her.
Through the front window, he saw the Christmas tree lights twinkling merrily and the pine bough-bedecked fireplace glowing warmly. It was as inviting a scene as a Currier and Ives print. All it was missing was her.
He made his way to the back yard where he heard the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. He drew nearer and saw there were three, not two, people sitting at the table. The third was a handsome young man who was entertaining the woman and the boy with a story about meeting Ted Williams when he was a teenager.
What right does he have to be at her table? Gary wondered, feeling his anger flare.
It was bad enough he had to share her with the boy; now there was a man in the picture, too.
Again, he felt the urge to walk into the house. Only this time it was to confront the man rather than to see her. It was only the look on her face that stopped him. Her eyes sparkled with happiness, and she was laughing. He couldn't remember ever seeing her so happy. What right did he have to spoil the moment for her?
"Merry Christmas," he whispered, knowing she could not hear him.
Then he wiped the tears from his eyes and walked through the snow back to his car.
* * *
When Gary returned to the auto body shop, he was so tired he didn't have the strength to get out of the car. He closed his eyes and fell asleep behind the wheel.
He woke early the following morning, aching and hungry. His slumber had brought him no rest, and he wanted to return to his apartment above the diner, stretch out on the bed and sleep. He got out of the Fairlane and walked to the soda machine for a Coke.
"Not much of a breakfast."
The voice startled Gary.
"Who's there?"
Omar Applebee stepped out of the shadows.
"How did you get in here?" the mechanic asked. "The door was locked."
Applebee ignored the question.
"If I hadn't been here to turn the engine off, you would be dead by now."
"Don't expect me to thank you."
"I don't. I know you're in no frame of mind to appreciate what I've done for you."
"Look, Mr. Applebee, I'm beat, and I just want to go home and get some sleep."
"You went home. It didn't make you feel any better, did it?"
Gary was taken aback by the question.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You used the Fairlane."
"Yeah. I took it out for a ride, so what?"
"You didn't take it out for a ride, not in the traditional sense of the word, anyway. You and I both know this car hasn't left your shop since I sold it to you."
"That's not true."
"The only place that car has been is to your past. You use it to go back to your childhood, to see your mother."
"You're crazy!"
"You've gone back several times, but you can't return to the past anymore."
"Why not?" Gary asked, giving up all pretense of denial.
"As you know, she hasn't long to live. It would be unwise for you to go back there now. You might be foolish enough to try to change the course of events."
"Who are you? What are you? How do you know about my mother?"
Applebee offered only a vague explanation.
"I am an instrument of fate. It's true I brought that car to you, but it was your decision to use it as you did. You returned to the past, a time when your mother was still alive and you were a happy little boy."
"She lives in the past. She's not dead. I saw her. I heard her. I smelled her perfume as she walked past me in the playground."
"Yes, she lives in the past, but she also must die in the past and complete the cycle. On New Year's Eve, she will have a date with the man you saw in her house that long ago Christmas night. The two of them will walk across the street to where his car is parked."
"That's enough," Gary said. "I don't want to hear any more."
"As they are crossing the street, a car will come down the hill."
"I said I don't want to hear any more," Gary shouted.
"The driver of the car will slide on a patch of ice and lose control of the vehicle."
"ENOUGH!"
"Your mother and her date will be struck by the car: the same Ford Fairlane you have here in your shop."
"No. No," Gary whimpered.
Then he saw the Fairlane in the right-hand bay, and he knew the keys were still in the ignition.
"Don't do it," Applebee warned. "Don't go back there again."
"She's my mother," the mechanic said and ran to the car. "I can't let her die."
* * *
Gary raced across the snow-covered lawn and up the steps to the front door. He rang the bell. A few minutes later, his mother opened the door.
"Yes? Can I help you?"
She didn't know who he was.
"It's me, Mom. It's Gary, your son."
Rather than shut the door, she looked closer at his face. She must have seen something in his eyes because her expression softened.
"Oh, Gary," she cried, bewildered by his age, and threw her arms around him. "It's really you, my little boy all grown up."
"Mom, I've traveled back in time to warn you."
"Hush," she said, hugging him tightly.
Gary pulled away.
"You have to listen to me, Mom. There's not much time."
"You mustn't say another word. Whatever brought you here from the future can't be changed."
"Why not? Haven't I already changed the past just by being here?" he reasoned.
"I don't know the rules," his mother said softly. "But I will accept whatever fate has in store for me. What bothers me is that you obviously haven't. Are you so unhappy in your own time that you must travel back to the past?"
"Yes, I am. Nothing in my life has gone the way I wanted it to. I haven't really been happy since ... since I was six years old."
Tears flooded her eyes.
"My poor son, please don't grieve so."
"But I need you," he cried. "You were the world to me, and then you were suddenly taken away. It wasn't fair!"
"Sometimes life isn't fair, but we have to play the cards we are dealt and make the best of it."
"All right," Gary said, making up his mind to remain in the past. "I choose to stay here and share what time you have left."
His mother reached up and lovingly touched his face.
"You can't stay here. You don't belong here. This time belongs to my six-year-old boy. I don't want him to know what will happen in his future."
"Mom, please don't send me away."
"As much as it pains me to do so, I have to. I must protect my little boy."
She held her grown son close for the last time, kissed him goodbye and then closed the door.
Gary turned and saw a Ford Fairlane driving down the hill. He shuddered, knowing what would happen in less than a week's time.
And there's not a damn thing I can do to stop it!
* * *
This time when Gary returned to the present, he found himself standing in the right-hand bay of his body shop. The Ford Fairlane had not come back with him.
For the next few days, he went through his daily routine like an automaton, feeling nothing. He tried to avoid people during the day and stayed alone in his room at night.
Early on the morning of January 31, Eva Marie knocked on his apartment door.
"Are you in there?"
"I'm not dressed yet," he called.
"I wanted to invite you to my house tonight. I'm having a small, informal party for my neighbors and friends."
"I don't think I can make it."
Gary couldn't see the look of disappointment on Eva Marie's face.
"Well, if you change your mind, you know where I live."
He didn't bother going to his shop that day. Not that it mattered since there were no customers scheduled until the second of January. He spent the day in his apartment, going over the events that transpired when he was six years old.
Somewhere in that past where Omar Applebee's Fairlane had taken him, his mother had only a few hours to live. Whatever her dreams for the future were, they were about to come to an end, and he was helpless to do anything about it.
Finally, evening came and Eva Marie closed the diner early. From his window, Gary watched her walk to her car. All was quiet in the building, like the silence of a tomb.
I can't stay here, he thought.
He put on his jacket and went outside. He headed for the street where his mother's house once stood. It was long gone, and a newer, larger home was built in its place.
He stood in the middle of the road, on the very spot where his mother had died, closed his eyes tightly and tried to will himself back into the past.
"It's no use. You can't go back there without the Fairlane."
Gary didn't need to open his eyes. He knew the voice belonged to Omar Applebee.
"Why won't you leave me alone? Why did you bring me that damned car in the first place? Why did you make me go back and relive the past?"
"You've been living in the past most of your life. You're unhappy because you look for your mother in every woman you meet. Isn't that why your marriage failed? Because your wife didn't live up to your memory of your mother?"
He didn't bother to deny Applebee's accusation, for he knew it was true.
"I tried to save her, but she sent me away. She cared more for him than for me. But I'm her son, too."
Gary, who had been facing Omar Applebee, heard a motor behind him. He turned and saw a car sliding down the icy hill directly toward him.
I'm going to die just like my mother did.
Although he thought his situation hopeless, Gary tried to escape the path of the car by running to the sidewalk. He slipped on the ice and went down on his knees. With the car only inches away, he closed his eyes and waited for the end. Miraculously, the driver swerved and missed running over the fallen man.
When the auto mechanic opened his eyes again, Omar Applebee was standing above him with his hand extended.
"Here, let me help you up."
The Gary Hyland who rose to his feet that snowy New Year's Eve was not the same man who had so recently sought refuge in his past.
"Thanks. I thought I was a goner for sure."
"It was a close call," Applebee agreed.
"They say just before you die your life flashes before your eyes."
"And did it?"
"No. It wasn't my past I saw. It was all the things I wanted in the future but would never have. I felt a tremendous sense of a life wasted."
"Lucky for you the car missed you."
"Yes," Gary said, smiling as he looked in the direction of Eva Marie's house. "I'd love to chat some more, but I have a party to go to. I intend to watch the ball drop at midnight, sing 'Auld Lang Syne' and toast the future with the woman I love."
Gary hurried to cross the street. Then he turned to wave goodbye to Omar Applebee, but to his surprise there was no one there. By the time he got to Eva Marie's house on Danvers Street, he had completely forgotten about both the mysterious stranger and the time-travelling Ford Fairlane.
Salem misses his childhood, when he used to sit around all day playing video games. Nothing much has changed; he just plays fewer video games.
