Chapter 1 (Draft)

PADDYWHACK

Once upon a time there was a particular old man who lived the most boring life in the universe. That man rarely left his pre-manufactured home except to see the doctor or buy groceries or maybe play a little tennis. He gardened less now that the raised bed was gone. Sometimes the grass was overgrown and the flowerbeds were full of weeds. 

He lived in the Villages - the original part of the Villages that started as a mobile home park and became the birthplace of a retirement empire. Florida was a big change after a lifetime of moving to new houses and traveling to foreign lands. But, after exposure through his wife Susan, her family and friends, it had grown on him. Now it was the setting for his post-employment retired life. 

You may have formed some impressions of the place without ever visiting. Truly, it wasn’t so bad. Its streets saw traffic that was mostly golf carts. Behind the house was a comfortable porch and a great view of the Orange Blossom golf course. The house and shed were still full of unexplored items packed for his original move from Unionville Pennsylvania. A lot of his clothes were hardly used since they made more sense for an office worker or someone who lived in a cooler climate. He practiced the guitar, listened to books, did basic housework and tried to stay in shape, that is, tried to avoid losing muscle as he aged. He tracked the calls of birds out back on his phone and was pleasantly surprised at how the summer rain resulted in a “volunteer” sweet potato vine around the base of the big Laurel Oak in the repurposed, composted soil. 

He had never been an avid gardener. But he loved to watch things grow, to build new things and to figure out how things worked when they needed repair. He was only seventy-two. But since breaking-up with Ella, his girlfriend of four years, 3 years earlier, he was completely alone. Moving to Florida added physical separation to the emotional separation he felt even with people he had known and spent time with for decades. Life moved on in his absence. And, with the added perspective of literal and figurative distance, he saw how superficial even his long-term relationships had been.

Loneliness had become a persistent reality in the last few years. It was just there and a sort of silent companion. It sometimes made him feel old. He hardly knew anyone anymore. He only had a few regular contacts: his brothers and his children. And those connections seemed increasingly tenuous. But life went on. He had enjoyed most aspects of his relationship with Eve, but that hadn’t really worked. And so they’d said goodbye without hard feelings. Ella, while different from him in some ways, had most of the qualities of his perfect mate: beautiful and busty, no social media, a wonderful cat, an appreciation for funk and jazz, family in the area, skepticism of the government and corporate interests and a desire to just chill and relax when she had the chance. She had enjoyed wine but had really been a fundamentally quiet soul. On occasion they’d been comforted by the sharing of their memories.  But, when Ella moved on, the memories had nowhere to go. They just stayed, growing stale, inside his head. Which was why, whenever he saw himself in the mirror, he saw a slow-falling tree in an unseen forest. He was also in a bit of a pickle with money. His life savings were being eroded as everything became more expensive. His life felt like a long story, full of interesting characters and one jaded old fool. But, much to your good luck, it is not the tale being told here.