Because We Missed The Boat
Since the waves on the Atlantic were thirty feet high and too tumultuous for us camera-bearing, hat-wearing whale watchers, the trip was canceled, and we spent the day walking all along Boston’s Freedom Trail. We followed that red painted line (abruptly twisting and turning like a drunk Harold had scrawled it, with the crayon he’d been too wasted to notice was not purple) past Paul Revere’s house, old cemeteries, the U.S.S Constitution and Bunker Hill. At some point we came to a long brick pathway shadowed by big leafy trees with a fountain in the middle, peaceful and charming. A small, politely-lettered sign read “WADING IN POND IS FORBIDDEN, PLEASE.”
We stopped here for a moment, calmed by the sight and sound of tumbling water. Jurvis’ mom fished in her pockets for a coin; she walked a few feet away from the fountain, closed her eyes, and threw the coin back. It barely made a sound. Huh, I thought. That looked like a significant wish. After a few minutes of silence as we walked on, she smiled and laughed a little to herself.
“You know what’s funny?” she said. “The last time I threw a coin into a fountain, I was with a friend of mine who’d just gotten married, and he wasn’t planning on having kids for a couple years yet. Well . . . I was a little drunk that night, and I told him that . . . I was throwing a coin in for every child I hoped he’d have.”
Jurvis and I smiled, unsurprised. Jurvis’ mom loooooves babies.
“And you know what? I ran into him six months later. He told me that they’d just conceived! Isn’t that crazy?”
We all laughed. Ha ha ha, oh fountain destiny!
It wasn’t until later that night, long after they’d returned to Connecticut and we were getting ready for bed, mouths full of undignified toothpaste, that I gave a little yelp. Jurvis looked up, alarmed. “What, what? What’s wrong?”
I paused for white-frothed dramatic effect. Somewhere, a dog barked.
“Your mom . . . totally wished babies on us today at the fountain, didn’t she?”
“Ah geez,” he said. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize that until now.”
May 13th, 2007 at 9:55 pm
You know what this means? You’ve got SIX MONTHS TO LIVE.
Meanwhile, am I the only one disturbed by the premise of that new movie “Knocked Up”? “Whoops, random lame guy, we got pregnant. Now let’s get married and raise this kid together!”
May 15th, 2007 at 11:39 pm
Hehehe. My mom totally did-I know her too well to think otherwise. She’s baby crazy for certain. :D
May 16th, 2007 at 12:38 pm
Not a response to this post, specifically, but a general “yo” to say that I’ve enjoyed your blog for maybe two or three years, now — through its two most recent iterations, anyways. And to ask you: Who is the girl gazing into the aquarium?
Jeff in little rock.
May 16th, 2007 at 1:34 pm
Hey!
That’s Maria.
May 16th, 2007 at 2:46 pm
Oh, good! Because I could’ve read it either of two ways, and one was kind of “post-mortem-y.” So here’s to the living!
-j.
May 16th, 2007 at 9:44 pm
Ha! That’s a hilarious story.
May 17th, 2007 at 12:16 pm
Yes, I am very much alive. I also think in that particular picture I was not looking at fish but looking at my camara trying to figure out how to take a good picture of fish in a glass aquarium.