Seated at the side of the park on newly purchased cast-iron benches, sat Claire, Bromley, and Mr. Packer, laughing above the music as they talked and drank coffee.
The Reverend Willy walked by the trio and gave them a friendly wave. They returned the salute. Pastor Paul Mall, so outraged by the release of Willy, had stomped out of town, refusing to preach in such a Sodom and Gomorrah.
Someone stood near to me. Feeling his presence, though he said nothing, I turned. It was Stephen from the Van Elkind camp, and I realized I was happy to see him.
“I heard you might be needing a new waiter,” he said.
“Yes,” I replied, “Cynthia is leaving this fall and Danny even sooner.”
“Perhaps you could hire me,” Stephen said smiling. “The Van Elkinds have had enough of Thread and they’re closing up their camp. They’re going to try to sell it, though God knows who has need for such extravagance these days. But for some reason I don’t want to go back to Chicago. And I thought a job with you might keep me busy while I plan what comes next. What do you say?”
It was a great idea, though I couldn’t imagine Stephen working as a waiter for long. But what did that matter? Things change. Things evolve. Take advantage of them while they’re at hand. “Let’s walk away from the Square, and we can talk about it where it’s quieter,” I said.
We strolled to 17 and turned to walk south along the highway, away from the crowd, quickly reaching an agreement. Then we stopped and gazed on what lay ahead on this moonlit road that stretched before us. In the background, the music and the laughter of thousands filled the night. Above us, a million stars shone. In the distance of the night, above the glimmering blue waters of the Sapphire lakes, there rose the call of the sounding loons, merging with the wind.
And ahead of us one hundred yards, walking slowly into the night was Toivo Lahti. And he held his hand out to the side, stretching slowly across time and eternity. And stretching back were the lightly shimmering fingers of Lempi. And their fingertips touched. Their hands enclosed. Their eyes met. And they walked once more. Like before.
In the moonlight. Along the highway. Amidst the sounds of life. With the wind, they walked in love again.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dennis Frahmann is a journalist, writer and award-winning marketer who grew up in small towns in Wisconsin and now lives in Cambria, California. Tales from the Loon Town Cafe is his first novel. You can learn more about the novel by visiting www.loontowncafe.com.
His second novel, The Finnish Girl, tells more of the story of Danny and his parents, Toivo and Lempi. It will be published in the fall of 2014.
Tales From The Loon Town Cafe Page 39