Tulips

This is another story written by my friend, that I thought I should share with the world

I emerged onto the front steps of my apartment complex. The sun beat down against my long brown leather coat, as I stepped down the front stairs; my boots clicking against the tile.
Once I was on the sidewalk, I turned down the way too familiar street- heading off to see my friends for the weekend. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon; the sun was hitting the city so perfectly and the wind was blowing gently, making the weather a nice warm feel.
My weekend was going to be just like any weekend- hopefully: long and leisurely.
My thoughts came to a halt, as I began to listen to the hushed sound of- what I think was- a weeping man. I turned the corner of the street, ignoring it. But the cries of this man grew louder and louder, as I approached the bus stop.
Soon enough, I found myself shoulder to shoulder with the elderly man.
His hair was silver, looking as if it might fall out at any moment. His face was cupped in his rickety hands, as he sobbed and sobbed. I glanced around, to see if he was a little girl’s grandfather. But it didn’t seem so, as people just kept brushing by- minding their own little selves.
I inhaled, and shifted my torso in his direction, “Hello, sir? Is everything all right?”
It took him several moments before he lifted his head out of his liver-spotted hands. He surveyed me; peering from my head to my toes. His lips were chapped, and they began to shake as he was trying to speak.
“No,” he said in a breathless matter, “No, everything’s not all right.”
I nodded, looking into his clear blue eyes- the whites of them were so glassy.
“Well, what’s wrong?” I questioned.
“You see,” he replied, his voice shaking, “I was supposed to meet up with my wife at ten o’clock. But, I got lost.”
He paused for a moment, leaving room for a strong cough. Once he cleared his throat, he began saying, “And I don’t have flowers or anything. I visit her every Saturday, and this time I’m late. She’s going to breath fire once she sees me.”
I smiled, reaching to touch his shoulder, “Do you need help?”
He almost jumped at my saying this and replied, with excitement in his voice, “Yes!”
“Okay. Let’s wait here for the bus, and go to the flower shop. I know a perfect place. What kinds of flowers does your wife like?”
“Tulips,” he said, “She loves tulips.”
“Great,” I said.


The bus arrived only five minutes after I offered to help the man. I soon found out his name was David, and he was 83 years old. When I told him my name, he smiled widely and said, “Georgia. What a lovely name.”
“Really? You think?” I laughed, “I go by Georgie, though.”
“My wife’s name is Helena. Oh, she’d love to meet you,” he placed his hand on my knee.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re just like her. Kind and gentle,” David nodded, adjusting his thick glasses.
“Oh,” I glanced at the bus floor, “Then, I guess I’ll like her.”
“You will. She’s beautiful, and easy to talk to,” David didn’t seem like he was talking to me, because he was staring ahead watching the other quiet people on the bus.
David went on about how he and Helena had met. David a city boy and Helena was from the country. David was working when he saw Helena cross the street with three of her friends. He ran out of his shop, and stopped the four girls.
He introduced himself to all of them, but only kept his eyes on the girl with the dark curly black hair, red lipstick, and gorgeous brown eyes. She smiled, and that drove David crazy, he had to know her name, where she came from, what she was doing now. He wanted to know everything.
He informed the girls this, and they giggled. Except for Helena who nodded, and did tell him everything. David was oblivious to the fact that he ditched his job to hold hands with Helena. He said it was worth getting fired over.
“Helena was wild,” David now said, looking at me, “She loved being dangerous and doing stupid things. It ticked me off, and she knew it. It made me so mad seeing her do things that were dangerous…”
He glanced down at his shoes, in silence.
I touched his shoulder.
“Are we almost to the flower shop?” David asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.
“It’s actually this stop,” I replied as the bus came to a halt. We climbed off the bus, me taking David’s trembling had as he stepped down from the giant step onto the sidewalk.
The flower shop was small, but was filled with every flower imaginable. David was in awe, as we entered the store. His eyes glazed around the room, as he gently ran his fingers on the petals of a wall of flowers.
“Tulips,” David said in a hushed voice.
And there they were; tulips of almost every color. David plucked flowers, making the bouquet bigger and bigger. He looked so happy when he stood at the cashier, slipping the woman money.
“Who’s the lucky lady?” the cashier asked.
“My wife,” he turned to me, and wink.
“Well I’m sure she’ll enjoy these,” she handed him the stack of flowers, “Have a nice day!”
We strolled alongside each other on the sidewalk. I watched as his face was glowing, and his smile was so wide that it looked as if it hurt. And I was glad that I took my Saturday to assist him.
“Oh Georgie,” David gushed, “Thank you so much.”
“No problem…where are we headed?” I replied.
“It’s only a couple of blocks, I know where we are now,” David pointed ahead.

Helena was somewhere that I had never imagined. I stood, aghast, watching as David knelt down and set the flowers on Helena’s grave. He stood up, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. “See her?” David’s voice shook, “This is Georgie, Helena. She helped me a lot today. She helped me get your favorite flowers.”
I glanced at David who looked unbelievably ecstatic, just standing there peering his loved one’s grave. And I found myself crying, David didn’t seem to notice as he stared and smiled widely, going on and on about what Helena had missed over the past week.
“And I was telling her how I met you. Remember how we met? You were so beautiful that day. Not that you aren’t now!” He laughed, and then adjusted his glasses one more time before I stepped aside crying, leaving the cemetery.