Post Cards from Holly

Postcards From Holly

Here I am, sitting alone in a diner booth. Well, I guess you couldn’t say that I’m alone. I am waiting on someone.Yet, for now I sit here by myself. It is embarrassing when waitresses and waiters display a sympathetic smile as they pass on by you.

“You ready hun?” Marie,the waitress,asked,putting her hand on her hip.

I shook my head no.“She isn’t here yet.” I told her. She nodded and awkwardly smiled.

“Well when she gets here,you just let me know. Okay Father David?”

“I will Marie, God bless. Thank you.”

She then walked away and proceeded to the booth before mine occupied by an older couple whose attention is absorbed in their magazines instead of each other.

“You ready to order?” Marie asked them.

I stirred my coffee with my teaspoon and listened to pass the time.

“You go ahead, Frank. Order.” The lady snapped.

“No, ladies first.” He responded

“Exactly Frank. Order.” The lady said, in a nasty tone.

I looked up from my coffee to see Marie’s bored expression on her face.

“Are you guys gonna order or not?” Marie asked.

“I’ll get a spaghetti and meatball dinner.” He sighed.

I turned my attention towards the tv above the bar. A football game was playing. I don’t often watch sports but the seriousness of it all amuses me. I watched the men at the bar drinking tap,and how they flinch, jump in their seats or even slam the table depending on how the game is going.

“We’re doing good tonight, eh?” I heard a man at the bar say, patting another man’s back next to him. The other man smiled and the two bumped their beers together in a friendly cheer.

“Hey, at least something’s going right.” The other man said.

“I hear ya.”

I then realised that I had been subconsciously been tapping my feet to the generic elevator music playing quietly. It was nice, a smooth saxophone solo supported by a jazzy beat. I took a small sip of my coffee and slowly put it down. I wondered if she was even going to come. Perhaps, she got lost. I do hope she comes as I have much to show her. This woman, Eunice, is the grandmother of a dear friend of mine, Holly. Tonight, I plan on showing her the postcards I have received from Holly throughout her last year here on Earth. I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out an old cigar box of mine filled with these postcards. I set it down of the table and began to think of Holly.

I remember the day I met her very clearly. It was a little more than a year ago, November of 1983 around Thanksgiving. I had a very stressful meeting with the elders of my church that night. I had proposed an idea to launch a program for people with AIDs, to make their last years somewhat comforting and worthwhile. Around that time I had been speaking to so many people with the disease who didn’t understand why God would do this to them. And to be honest, I had no idea what to tell them. The elders did not react so well and were confused as to why I had been sympathetic for them since it was a “gay disease”. I was shocked, disappointed and heartbroken all at the same. After the meeting I drove down to the harbor to take a walk, breath some air and have myself a cigar. I was sitting on a bench in the midst of late night joggers or club goers seeking some space away from the crowd. I was watching the boats in the harbor as I heard a conversation between two girls.

“Do you think that guy was into me?” I remember hearing a girl asking her friend over a cigarette.

“Nah. He was into that girl, Holly.” Her friend responded. “Forget about him.”

“Holly? You mean hooker Holly?”

“Yea. I saw them go into the bathroom. All night she was supposedly broke and then after that she could suddenly afford a pitcher.”

“Nevermind then.” The girl said “The blonde guy was nice. Did you see him buy me a drink?”

I got up from my bench and made my way further down the boardwalk. I found a nice, quiet spot and took a seat over there. I watched the vapor come out of my mouth in the brisk, cool air. I closed my eyes for a moment and focused on the sound of the water tossing around in the harbor and men docking their boats for the night. I then heard the footsteps of a high heel. I looked up and saw a woman walk towards me.. In the dim light I could see her long, slim figure and her big, thick hair. She sat down next to me.

“Hello there.” I said, surprised by this woman’s overt friendliness.

“Hey.” She said.

I looked at her and behind her I saw the miles of empty benches she could've sat down on instead of mine. Clearly, this woman wanted to talk to me.

“May I help you miss?” I asked.

“You got a cigarette?”

“I have cigars.”

“That’ll do.”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a cigar from its pack. I handed it to her and she placed it in between her lips.

“Do you need a lighter?” I asked her.

“You can light it for me.” She said, her voice muffled by cigar.

I grabbed the lighter from my pocket and simply handed it to her.

“What? You don’t wanna light it?” She teased.

“I think you’re capable of lighting your own cigar.” I said.

She flicked the match, the fire revealing to me her face. She was young, that I knew.

“So I saw you walk away from those two girls. Were they talking about a girl named Holly?” She asked

“I wasn’t exactly paying attention.” I lied.

“Well those girls are crazy!” She laughed, her voice slurred. “They think everything is about them.”

I was annoyed. All I wanted was a quiet night at the harbor.

“Enjoy the cigar.” I said, sitting up. She grabbed my arm.

“No! Don’t go sir. Please sit down. Let’s have a conversation. C’mon!”

I slowly sat back down wondering why God would put me in this situation. It then occurred to me that perhaps there was a reason. So I decided to talk to her.

“Is this girl Holly your friend?” I asked her. She laughed.

“Well, I guess. I suppose we all have to be friends with ourselves or else life gets kinda hard.” She explained as smoke escaped her mouth.

“So you’re Holly?”
“Yes I am. Sir, if you don’t mind may I ask you a question?”

“Go for it.”

“Why are you here all by yourself?” She asked me.

“I think I could ask you the same thing.” I responded.

“I’m not alone. I got friends. They’re all at the club.” “I’m here alone because I needed to think.” I said. “Holly, what do you think about?”

“Do you wanna know what I’m thinking right now?” She asked.

“I suppose.” I said.

“I think that you’re a lonely man that could use a little fun.” She said flirtatiously. “Wanna go somewhere a bit more private?”

I decided to bring Holly somewhere unexpected. As we got in the car, she kept asking me about where we were going and she also gave me the full run down as to the prices of her services per hour. As we were driving she played with my car radio and sang along to a song by some pop star.

“C’mon man! You don’t even know the words!” She teased, dancing in her seat.

“I listen to classical music.” I told her.

“You need to live a little!” She laughed.

I remember the face she made when we parked at the diner down the street.

“This isn’t private.” She said. I turned off the car, cutting off the music.

When we stepped into the diner, I could finally see what she looked like. She had trendy hair that was big and curly, she was wearing a tight blue dress with fishnet stocking and high heeled boots. I saw Marie, the waitress walk to the front.

“Hello Father, how are you?” She asked. “Table for one?”

“Two.” I corrected her. She took a look at Holly and she raised her eyebrows.

“Alrighty then. Follow me.”

Marie brought us to a booth and gave us our menus and explained the specials. She then left Holly and I by ourselves. Holly took a sip of the glass of water.

“So, you’re a minister?” She asked me.

“Yes I am. I smiled. She nodded her head.

“I think I’m beginning to understand why you brought me here. Either you are extremely lonely or I’m just another charity case of yours. Which one is it?”

“I’m just trying to do something nice Holly. What’s so wrong with that?”

“I don’t need people to do nice things for me.” She snapped.

Ignoring her, I opened the menu. She stared at me for a moment, and then opened up her menu.

“Are you compensating me for my time?” She asked.

“I’ll do that.”

She took a deep breath and another sip of water.

“I think I’m going to get Thanksgiving dinner tonight. I haven’t had that in a while. My nana doesn’t make it anymore”

“Well then order it.” I smiled. She looked down at her hands.

“I think about many things.” She blurted out, looking up from her menu.

“Like what?”

“Are you guys ready to order?” Marie asked, abruptly. Both our heads turned towards her. She was standing there with her hand on her hip.

We ordered our food and the waitress left. I turned back towards her.

“I like to think about what life would be like if it was different. Life it just so hard sometimes. The world tells you to dream and then once you start dreaming it just tears you down. So what’s the point of trying? I’m going to die someday and I don’t want to live doing the whole American dream. Have children, raise them and then die. That’s it. I have better dreams to live, but that’s the only dream the world wants me to have.” She explained.

“What makes you think that’s life?” I asked her. “What? You see something you don’t like in the world and so then you throw your whole life away? What for?”

“This world just isn’t for me.” She said,brushing her hair out of her face.

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s the truth. Why lie to myself? I see these people all the time. They pretend to be all happy, but really they’re empty on the inside. And let me tell you, that’s most people I know. I’m happy the way things are right now. I’m saving loads of money and what I do with it is a decision for another day.”  Holly said.

“Are you really happy, Holly?”

“Yes.” She nervously twisted her silver bangles on her wrist.

Marie walked to our booth with our food. First, she set down Holly’s Thanksgiving dinner and then she set down my crumb cake. She then briefly walked away and came back with my coffee.

“Enjoy.” She smiled.

We ate our meals with a thick silence in between us besides the news on the television and the small chatter here and there from other customers. Holly dropped her fork and grabbed her stomach.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

She pushed her plate away.

“Yea. I’m just full.”

She only ate half of the turkey and a few bites of potatoes.

“Did you want to take the rest home?”

“I would like that.” She smiled.

I nodded and continued eating my crumb cake and sipping my coffee. She continued to twist around her bangles.

“You don’t have to pay me for my time.” She said. “Thank you for tonight.”

“I will pay you on only one circumstance.” I began. She raised her eyebrows. “You get yourself to a doctor.”

When we got back into the car she had decided to go home. She lived in an apartment complex off of Atlantic Avenue. This time she didn’t play with the radio. She stared out the window holding her wrapped up meal.

“Am I going to hell?” She suddenly asked, her voice was heavy.

“That’s up to you.” I told her. “Just keep praying.”

“I’ve done horrible things.” Her voice cracked.”There’s no way I can go to heaven. Oh god, my guardian angels must really hate me.”

I pulled my car over to the side of the street. I looked at her. She was wiping her eyes with her hands.

“Holly. What is done has been done. There’s no use crying over the things you’ve already done. You’re just hurting yourself and you don’t need to be hurt anymore. You can be happy and live those dreams of yours. The world is for you, Holly. But this life you are living is not.” I told her.

“It’s not that easy.”

“The life you’re living right now isn’t easy.”

“That’s true.” She sniffled.

Once again I started the car and drove the rest of the way. I parked in front of her apartment and handed her a twenty and a business card from the church with my information on it.

“For your time.” I told her.

She stuffed them in her purse.

“Thank you. Really. Father, you just really made me think about some things tonight. Thank you.”

“If you ever need to contact me, please do so.”

“I will.”

“You alright Father?” Marie laughed “You zoned out for a bit there!”

I jumped a little bit from the sound of her voice. I gave Marie a thumbs up and then looked down at the cigar box with the postcards in it.  I slowly opened it and inside postcards piled up. I had about eight of them. I picked them up and took the one in the back. The one from Italy, her first postcard. One the front, it had a picture of the colosseum. I turned it over. She left a little note.

Dear, Father David

Hello again Father. I hope you’re doing well. I would like to thank you again for dinner a few weeks ago. It was delicious. So, I took your advice and went to the doctors. Turns out that I am really sick and I only have about a year. I don’t even want to explain the details. It’s to scary to think about. Anyway, I sat on the clinic steps for a little while. This guy named Tom sat next to me and we had a lot in common. Same diagnoses and same problem; we have no idea what to do with the little time we have left. So we continued talking and decided to use all our money to travel. Now we’re in Italy. Things are pretty good here. It’s absolutely gorgeous and the people are just so nice. Everyday is a new adventure and too be honest; I’ve never been so happy. That is until nighttime when I look at the stars. It’s scary to think that they’re still going to shine when my light goes out. I can’t think about that now though. An artist just asked to draw me as I’m writing you this.Tom wishes you well. God bless

-Holly

I traced my finger over her neat handwriting. I just don’t get it. As a minister I’ve been involved with plenty of tragic cases. Just this one gets to me. I wiped an escaped tear from my eye and looked up. An older woman in a red winter jacket walked in, looking around. Marie greeted her and after a short conversation, Marie walked her over to me.

“I’m Eunice.” The lady said.

I shook her soft hand gently.

“It’s very nice to meet you. Please sit.” I said.

Eunice ordered a coffee and the two of us sat, waiting for one of us to start a conversation.

“I was just looking through some of the postcards your granddaughter sent me.” I told her.

Marie quickly brought her a coffee cup and filled our cup with warm coffee. Mary wrapped her cold fingers around the cup to warm up. She stared at the cigar box.

“How exactly did you meet Holly?” Eunice asked, genuinely curious. I looked at her. Her face was tired and gentle. Her eyes were bright blue but sad. She pushed back her hair in a tan headband. “Was it a confessional or something along those lines?”

“No. She had started a conversation with me and I took her out to dinner because she was hungry.” I briefly explained.

“And that was all? Did you know she was a hooker? Her eyes widened

“I did.”

She ripped open a sugar packet and dropped the sugar into her coffee.

“She kept it from me, but I always knew she was up to something. Let me ask you something else, did she make me seem like a bad grandmother? Cause I did the best that I could.”

“You could read it in the postcards.” I told her.

I pushed the box of cards to her. She picked them up as if they were delicate and sorted through them, her eyes were squinting to read the words.

“Greece, Paris, London, Rome, Barcelona, Hong Kong, Bangladesh,” She read aloud as she sorted through them, “and then Boston.” She sighed.

“Thank you again for sending me her last one.” I said. She smiled weakly.

“You’re very welcome.” She set the postcards on the table. “And I’m sorry it took so long. I didn’t go through her stuff until last week.”

“Did you want to read them?” I asked her.

“I would, it that’s alright.”

I took the postcards and organised them by date. I handed it back to her. She started with the postcard of the colosseum. I watched her eyes scan the postcard left to right.

“Holly would do that. Run off with some man around the world.” She said, her voice had an uncomfortable edge to it. She flipped it to the back of the stack and revealed the one from Barcelona with a picture of a famous Catholic church.

I remember that card. She told me about how she was falling in love with her new friend, Tom and how many people she was able to share her story with. She told me that she finally felt she belonged to the world.

“I wish she would have learned that sooner instead of withering away like that.” Eunice criticized, putting the card in the back of the pile. Next, she shifted her attention to the card with the Eiffel Tower where Holly said simply;

“Having fun! Wish you were here Father David!”

While Eunice read the postcards, Marie filled up our cups with more coffee. The restaurant became more crowded and louder as guests and regulars shuffled in.  It was as if Eunice was in her own world, the noise didn’t bother her. Time passed on by as she read the postcards over multiple times. At some things she would laugh, at others her eyes would water. She too ran her finger along Holly’s handwriting. When she was done, she put down the postcards and cleared her throat.

“I have not read the last one. The one I sent you.” She told me.

“Why not?”

“It’s just all so hard. She was in the hospital when she wrote those words. It was the last thing she ever wrote.” She explained,

“Would you like me to read it to you?”

Eunice nodded her head and handed me the postcard with the Boston skyline.I grabbed it and flipped the card. Her handwriting dragged from letter to letter as if her hand had a weight on top of it.

“Father David.” I read outloud “I’m back home. I could no longer travel because I got really sick. Tom is continuing on our list of places to go. He’s going to be around longer than I am, and I’m happy for him. This year has been amazing. I’ve met so many great souls, I’ve laughed and danced and sang. I’ve been living while I’m dying. I hate to leave the world. I wish I would have loved the world a long time ago, yet like you said, what’s done has been done. And now I know Father, the world is for me. So now I lay in a hospital bed, a victim of my own body with my nana by my side. Father, I told you in my first postcard that I get sad when I look at the stars. I think the hardest part about this whole thing is that the world goes on without you. Waves with crash, flowers will bloom, seasons will change, babies will be born, lovers with meet and even my nana will move on. Life doesn’t stop when I’m gone. About a year ago you showed me kindness. Most people would leave me there out of disgust. Thank you for being kind to me. Without your kindness, my last year would have looked quite different. Father, I do ask of one more favor. When you find yourself out at night and see the stars, will you think of me? From Holly.”

I placed the postcard down on the table. Eunice took a deep breath

“Thank you for being kind to her.” Eunice said.

“My pleasure.”

“Did she ever tell you about her parents?” She asked.

“No, but I was wondering about that.”

“Well, her mother and father died in a car accident when Holly was very young. Her father was my son.” She paused “He was my youngest and I miss him dearly. Do you think Holly is with her parents?”

“I think so.” I smiled.

“And I will see them someday?” She asked, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“Yes, but you aren’t there yet. So live on this Earth for a while. If you can learn one thing from your granddaughter, it’s that the world is for us.”

Her grandmother took deep breaths staring into the distance. She then looked straight at me.

“My favorite animal is the elephant, and Holly saw one and thought of me when she was in India. She said she thought about me quite a lot.”

“Yes she did.” I smiled. I placed my hands on her to comfort her, “And she still will.”

Eunice nodded and wiped another tear.

“Would you walk me to the train? It’s not far.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

I paid for the coffees and the two of us left the diner. The air was cold and slightly damp. Leaves brushed against the sidewalk as they blew in the wind. The walk for the most part was silent. We walked down the block together, the cool breeze flying past us. It was a pretty quiet night, an average weekday. On the walk we passed on by commuters or those just running some errands or even taking a walk. We walk passed people everyday and make assumptions. If people were to assume what connected Eunice and myself, they’d probably think we were married because of our age similarities. The thing that nobody would guess is what actually connects us; a young lady named Holly. We reached Eunice’s terminal for her train. She turned towards me. I extended my hand but she decided to wrap her arms around me in a hug. She sobbed lightly into my shoulder. After a moment she let me go, and smiled through her tears.

“Is it okay if we meet again?” She cried.

“Yes, I’d love to.” I answered.

“God bless.” She said. She turned around and walked down the steps to the terminal.

I called out to her one more time.

“Eunice!” I called out, running slightly forward. She turned around.

“Yes Father?”

“Holly told me you don’t make Thanksgiving dinner anymore.”

“You eat with your family.” She said. “I did have family, and I wish I would’ve realised that sooner.”

“Be well.” I told her.

I then began my walk back to the car. While I was walking I thought about Eunice and how she is left by herself at the hands of death. I said a quick prayer as I walked on. It’s not too many nights that you can see stars through the light pollution of the city, but tonight you can. I stopped in my steps and looked up towards the sky, feeling a few curious stares from those passing by. As Holly asked, I took a look up at the sky for her, and I then thought about her.