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Jasmine, by Jim Bartlett

14/5/2021

 
Kneeling down onto the floor, he begins working the edge of the slat with his fingernail, trying to remember how it’s supposed to open. But it remains stubborn, not giving an inch, and just as he’s to the point of kicking the stupid thing, the answer sneaks into his head.

Push and twist.

Like magic, the spring-loaded board pops up, allowing him to see the little box tucked into the hollowed spot he made so many years ago. In its former life it had been a music box, playing “Lara’s Theme” from “Dr. Zhivago” on its little tines when opened. Now, the music long gone, much like her, it simply holds his dearest treasure.

Just as he lifts it out, voices drift up from the first floor. Startled, he spins, his gaze directed at the bedroom door. But the scare has pulled his mind back into its murky fog, and now he’s not a clue what he’s looking for. Or why.

He turns back, only to find a small box in his hands.

Thinking it surely must be important, he flips it open, releasing the fragrance of Jasmine into the closet.

And then he knows, for it’s both her namesake and her favorite scent.

In the box there’s a note – the last one she ever gave him. He wraps his hand around it, but a voice shouts out from behind.

“He’s up here.”

A policeman stands in the doorway, his call to someone below. Two others – a man and woman, who look familiar for some reason – quickly arrive, both smiling.

“Mr. Bennett,” says the lady, “we’ve been looking for you. You know you can’t be here.”

“I can’t?”

Shaking their heads, they help him up, then follow the officer down the stairs.

As they pass through the front door, a young couple, eyes wide, stand along the sidewalk.

“How’d he get in?” they ask.

“The spare key’s under that planter,” answers Bennett, pointing.

“Mr. Bennett,” the lady says, eyes rolling, “Don’t you remember? Your daughter sold your house to these nice people so you could get the care you need at the manor.”

“She did? Wait...who are you?”

“Let’s get you home. We’ll talk all about it.”

“Yes...home.”

They place him in the van and strap his seatbelt, the man staying while the lady returns to talk with the policeman.

“We must be going on a nice ride?” Bennett asks.

“Indeed. Back home,” replies the man.

“Home,” he repeats. But something bothers him. If they’re going home, why is he here? Why does this feel like home?

His mind begins to swirl. Where is his wife? Why can’t he even remember her name?

Angry, flustered, his eyes begin welling with tears. As he reaches up to wipe away his heartbreak, a paper falls from his hand. He opens it, and it fills the van with the scent of Jasmine. And then, for that moment, she’s with him, holding his hand like she holds his heart.

Jasmine. Her name is Jasmine.
​
Pamela Kennedy
14/5/2021 04:26:59 pm

You wrote with such tenderness about a sad infliction that any one of us could suffer some day...well done!

Jim link
14/5/2021 05:13:45 pm

Thanks ever so much, Pamela.
It's a heartbreaking disease - or affliction - or whatever. Like Covid, I wish it would just go away.
Take care
Jim

Michael McCarthy
14/5/2021 04:48:51 pm

A truly remarkable story. Handled with great care and understanding. Loved it!

Jim link
14/5/2021 05:14:38 pm

You are too kind with your words, Michael, but they are much appreciated.
Take care
Jim

Drew Lackovic
14/5/2021 06:25:46 pm

This one's a hard hitter, Jim. Nice work.

Jim link
14/5/2021 07:58:00 pm

You are too kind, Drew. Thanks so much for the read and comments.
Take care
Jim

Angela Carlton
14/5/2021 06:49:37 pm

Touching, beautifully done like a scene in a movie or an episode on a t.v. drama.

Jim link
14/5/2021 07:59:05 pm

Thanks, Angela. Really appreciate your thoughts.
Take care
Jim

Doug
14/5/2021 06:58:43 pm

Well, if your goal was to bring forth a ton of emotions from your readers, you were successful with this one. Once again, nicely done.

Jim link
14/5/2021 08:05:26 pm

Thanks, Doug. The goal is always to try and find some words that work together well enough someone might read them ;-)
Really appreciate your kind words
Take care
Jim

marjan sierhuis
14/5/2021 07:40:50 pm

Your heart wrenching story, Jim is a real tear jerker. Beautifully done.

Jim link
14/5/2021 08:06:22 pm

Very kind of you, Marjan. Always appreciate your comments.

Take care
Jim

Sue Clayton
15/5/2021 03:27:51 am

A beautiful snapshot of dementia, Jim. Let's hope Jasmine's remembered name stays with him.

Jim link
15/5/2021 04:01:56 am

Yes, indeed, we hope that her name (and the fragrance that name represents) remain with him no matter what.
Thanks for the comments, Sue.
Take care
Jim

Swapan k Banerjee
15/5/2021 07:29:04 am

Jim, I guess it's not entirely fiction. Particularly the little 'note' in the box which perhaps acted as a catalyst for this memorable story, reminiscent of Theodore Dreiser. Your take-off point in this case is brilliant. Reading your story is quite an experience, always.

Jim link
15/5/2021 03:41:40 pm

Hi Swapan - I've never read any of Dreiser's works, but now you have me curious. I'll have to look him up. Thanks ever so much for the kind words. Always appreciated.
Take care
Jim

Mike B
15/5/2021 05:50:52 pm

A touching story, beautifully written. My father-in-law just moved to a small care home a week ago. A total of 6 residents live there, at 94 he is the oldest, and the only one that doesn’t have a some form of dementia. Although he likes talking to his peers, it’s easier to communicate with the caregivers. Thanks for another enjoyable story Jim...

Jim link
15/5/2021 06:23:39 pm

Thanks, Mike. It's good to hear your father-in-law still has his wits about him. 94 is quite something. And I hope the caregivers are ready to listen to some of his stories.
Thanks for the kind words
Take care
Jim

Sarah Blum link
15/5/2021 07:13:16 pm

Very sweet and so true and telling of what happens to those with dementia. Did he get to keep the box?

Jim link
16/5/2021 03:53:10 am

Thanks ever so much, Sarah. He kept only the note, however a longer version of this would have had the young couple discover the secret hideaway in their closet, as well as the music box. And, being the kind-hearted people they are, they would have taken it to the care center and passed it along to Mr. Bennett.
Take care
Jim

Mary Wallace
16/5/2021 06:30:01 am

I cried Jim. Dementia is such a sad disease. How sad to know you loved that deeply, yet were unable to retain their name. Such a beautiful story.

Jim link
16/5/2021 04:25:52 pm

Thanks, Mary, for your emotional comment. Yeah, it is very sad, and yet I wanted a moment of hope in there, as he knew about the box and that her name would be held tight for him there.
As always, appreciate your thoughts.
Take care
Jim

Carol Garrasi
17/5/2021 06:41:06 pm

So beautiful and tender. It takes a compassionate heart to put such gentle words around a difficult and painful experience. Nicely done

Jim link
17/5/2021 08:10:01 pm

Thanks ever so much, Carol. I truly appreciate it.
Take care
Jim

Kathy
18/5/2021 06:02:58 am

Jim, I enjoyed your beautiful story.
You just unlocked a bittersweet memory. My mom lived with me and had dementia. Sadly, she had forgotten my name. After 4 years of not hearing her call me, she used my name and uttered, “I love you!” Thanks for the memory❣️

Jim link
18/5/2021 07:01:16 am

Thanks so much, Kathy, and what a lovely story. That really must have touched your heart after all of those years to hear her call your name and tell you that she loved you. Just amazing.
Thanks
Jim

Daniel Hybner
23/5/2021 04:18:28 am

This is everything a flash story should be. Emotionally gripping and beautifully crafted, I enjoyed this one from start to finish. It’s a truly fantastic piece. Excellent work, Jim.

Jim link
23/5/2021 06:19:54 pm

Thanks ever so much Daniel. I very much appreciate your kind words!
Take care
Jim


Comments are closed.

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