“Sir, would you like to explain why you were stealing caught stealing three dozen of the president’s star lilies?”
“Because I’m 71 years old and my bones don’t work as they used to.”
“Sir, why were you attempting to steal the lilies?”
“Because they’re Rebecca’s favorite flower and I always steal her fresh lilies on her birthday.”
“Who is Rebecca, your daughter?” The two share a knowing glance that amuses me, and I can’t help but wonder how many 70 year old steal flowers on their daughter’s birthdays.
“Wife.” I contradict.
“Sir, we need you to explain why you were stealing the president’s flowers. We’ve got all day.”
“Well it all started 59 years ago-“
“Maybe not all day.” The previously quiet young boy speaks up. He reminds me of my own son, with handsome looks, and a quiet yet secretly cheeky personality.
“Son-“
“Don’t call me son. I am not related to crooks like yourself.”
Maybe Mr…Mr… Mr. Stanley, man my eyes are getting bad, Mr. Stanley should try some of Ms. Margret’s chill pill. It seems like he need them more than her.
“Well sir, I have to start at the beginning to get to the end.”
“Man, let him tell his story, who knows, maybe it’ll be good. Aren’t old men supposed to be good at telling stories?” Yes, that sounds like my son.
“Fine, but hurry up.” Mr. Stanley snaps at me and I get a face full of sticky saliva.”
“You see, Becca’s as stubborn as a mule, doesn’t easily say yes, no matter how many times you ask. I was a young boy then, not much for money, son of a crook as you so kindly put it earlier. Even as a young boy, I knew that I girl like Becca was a once in a life time kind of person, and to get her, I need to be something special for her. So I stole my neighbor’s blood red roses.”
The quiet boy perked up as I talked. It seems to me that he is more like my son then I thought. Secretively romantic I do believe, although all good people like this story. How could they not. I can’t wait till my son has someone to yap about.
“Turns out Becca don’t fancy roses. Thinks they’re too mainstream. So are my mother’s sunflowers, and the pink tulips outside my school. Even Home Depot’s foxtail cactus and the ocean blue forget-me-nots were not good enough.
By now she was dating Bradley Brown. But I was just as stubborn as that beautiful woman. I started giving her one dozen flowers on the first day of every month, each time a different type. I was sure I would find the right flower.”
“I’m going to go out on a limb hear and guess it was star lilies?” Mr. Stanley’s sarcastic comment pulls me from my memory. He’s now slouched up against the back of the hard metal chairs we’re all uncomfortably situated in. The younger officer is looks intrigued, sitting on the edge of his chair, with his elbows on his knees and hands clasped in front of him.
“Yes, star lilies, the ones from Old City Green to be exact. I gave them to her on a Wednesday. I failed a math test that day because I stayed up all night sneaking in to grab them. It was a lot harder than today. I didn’t know it at the time, but Becca’s birthday was the first of May. I don’t know how I can tell she’d enter a room, just from the sound of her feet that I didn’t know it was her birthday, but it turned out no one else remember either, not even her parents. At the end of the day, my lovely Becca came up and handed me a piece of paper and said ‘8’o’clock sharp. I opened the folded, yellowing paper with shaking fingers. The girl I had been in love with since I first met had gone out of her way to hand me a note. I looked down at the small treasure in my hand. It was an old note I gave her in 5th grade with the carefully drawn words do you like James ? yes ? no with the box ‘yes’ checked with a heart in bright pink sharpie. My heart stopped for the first time day. I’ve been stealing star lilies from Old City Green for Becca’s birthday ever since. ”
A long pause follows as I end my story. The only sound my failing ears can hear through my memory is all three of us men breathing deeply. My Becca, I will always love you, till my dying breath. Finally Stanley’s ( I feel as if we’re close enough to go by strictly last name only) condescending voice interrupts the silence.
“Okay, we know we’ve heard your whole life’s story, why were you stealing star lilies from the white house.”
“Oh, right. You didn’t let me finish. Since last year, Old City Green’s has closed. The lady who runs it is now a good friend of mine got a job tending the gardens at the White House. When I came by yesterday to ask her where I might find a 3 dozen star lilies that may be good enough for Becca, I saw your new garden full of star lilies. I asked who I could talk to about getting some, but it turns out you can’t. I came back a few hours ago to gather some before I head over to Oak Hill, but your boys found me while I was resting my hands.”
“Wait, the cemetery? Why wouldn’t you go home to Becca?” The sound of my wife’s name on this young boys lip fills my heart with joy. I’m proud to know that he listened and cared for my story. This I why I tell it, no matter how much it embarrassed Becca.
“Well son, my darling wife passed away 3 years ago, god bless her soul, and may she be filled with pride as she watches over me.”
“You still bring her flowers?” This comes from the young boy again, and I’m glad his senior has remained quiet so the boy can learn.
“Yea, even death could not end a love as true as ours. You’ll understand one day.”
Our conversation is cut short when Stanley stands up and speaks,
“Allll right, this has been fun and all that, but time’s up. Mr. Calum, you will need to pay a fine of $199 by the end of the week.”
“May I keep the flowers? They’re already dying.”
“No.”
The young officer stands up and walks over to Stanley. I can see his name tag now. Officer Dayhop. They convers quietly a few steps away from the door as I sit still in my cold chair, waiting for them to finish. They break apart and Stanley turns to face me.
“It seems you have wowed Ryan with you dull story, so you’ll still have a fine of $199, but you can keep the flowers. Now go see your wife, I’m sure she’ll be please to know how your morning went.” A hint of a smile passed over his lips as he turns and heads out the door. Seams Becca got to him more then he wanted to admit. With a pleasant smile and wave, Officer Ryan follows Stanley out the door.
I go to the front desk, and the secretary directs me to the evidence room, where I gather my wilting flowers. I hurry to my old Ford and grab the crystal vase I had stored in the passenger seat. I rush back inside and head to the bathroom to fill the bowl. I calmly walk back to my car, the beautiful flowers content in their vessel. I set the vase and flowers back in the passenger seat and turn on the old car. As it rumbles to life, the radio starts singing. The Supremes voices start filling the car with the lyrics of “You Can’t Hurry Love”. I sway to the beat of our song as I drive down the highway to be with my love.