The Stranger - A LGBT Contemporary Fairy Tale

Chapter 3

Over the next few days The Stranger would sit down to eat breakfast and as promised, he would pay in full for his next day's room and board. It only took about three days for Barb and the townsfolk to lose their memories as to when The Stranger had shown up, recall how long he had been there, or why he was there at all.

They often forgot his presence entirely, and when they were reminded, they didn't think on it all too much. He became a fixture, like a light pole on your neighborhood street that you may only notice on occasion when the bulb flickers or goes out entirely. The Stranger would 'flicker' around their daily lives, and the people just came to accept his unassuming quiet demeanor with the ease one might accept that unobtrusive light pole.

One bright and cloudless day, the sun was gleaming, yet a slight nip in the air whispered the coming winter season. Two men of the town could be heard arguing. The townsfolk ignored this. It was only Harold and Seth after all, and the residents couldn't deem it an ordinary week unless the raucous bantering of these two neighbors was heard at least every few days. At least such had become the norm for about the past year.

The Stranger just happened to be meandering up the road when he heard the commotion. He stopped and rested against the fence, watching them with interest.

"If you don't keep that cow off my damn property, Harold, I swear I'm going be having steaks for dinner this weekend! She's trudging all through my garden!" Seth screamed. For a short man, he certainly was drawing himself up to the tall and lanky height that was Harold.

"Well, maybe you need to fix ya fence! It's not my business to fix ya fence!" Harold countered.

"I can't fix my fence until you return my hammer!"

"I told ya once, I told ya thousand times, I gave ya that hammer back well over a year ago!"

"No. You didn't. I think I'd know if you returned one of my tools or not, and you haven't!"

"Why don't you just go buy a new one?" Harold suggested with an exhausted huff.

"It's the principle of the matter. You just need to return my hammer like a goodly neighbor should!"

"I don't have your damn hammer, Seth!"

At this point in the argument, The Stranger meandered over a bit closer to the two men. When they saw him, they ceased arguing immediately and turned to him. Their mouths gaped open at the shock of realizing they had an audience.

The Stranger tipped his hat and flashed a wry smile. "Don't mind me. I'm just out enjoying the fresh air." With that, he pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the fence.

They continued to gawk for a moment. Then something strange happened to Harold. He looked directly into The Strangers eyes. It was an accident, but he felt a pull and couldn't look away. He fell silent. He felt as if he were daydreaming but not quite.

Seth stood watching The Stranger for only a second, then turned and noticed his neighbor was seemingly half conscious. For several seconds which stretched into half a minute, Harold seemed frozen in place. Seth waved his hand in front of Harold's face, but it was as if Harold didn't see it.

Harold felt a thick haze pass across his eyes, and images began to flurry in his mind. Slowly like cream churned to butter, the images turned over and over until they came into focus. They became clear, resonant, and sweet.

Harold was seeing his neighbor Seth vividly. It was like watching a show on a television through his mind's eye. He saw Seth taking back the borrowed hammer from himself, and then he watched himself walk away. Harold watched as Seth stood in his living room for the longest time not moving. After many minutes Seth ambled to his room and tucked the hammer way at the bottom of his bedroom bureau of drawers, under a thick pile of sweaters.

Harold then saw Seth on a different occasion. He was wandering out in the dark cold of the night, dressed in pajamas. Seth again was seen slowly ambling around his fenced-in backyard, and only after some time became aware of his surroundings. Harold's heart clenched with the same fear and anxiety that was written all over his dear old friend's face.

Then another scene flashed before his eyes. He saw Seth sitting at the table far past the breakfast hour, as if he were daydreaming, yet well past a reasonable time. Seth then came out of the long stupor and upon realizing half a morning had passed, buried his face in his hands and cried.

Harold wasn't just seeing all these events. He could also feel the emotions that each terrifying experience was bringing his friend. Seth was scared and lonely, and with each new experience, Harold felt his friend sink deeper and deeper into despair.

Then just as suddenly as Harold's mind had been swept away with these strange visions, he snapped out of it.

He looked at Seth and his face shifted. He choked back tears and thought back to a time when they didn't argue. They were neighbors and friends not so very long ago. The best of friends actually, keeping each other occupied many a night at the tavern drinking and sharing old stories. As each of them in turn had lost their own wives to the cruel clutches of death, they had found peace and solace in keeping each other company through simple past times: a game of cards, a shared smoke on the porch.

Harold wiped the tears away and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Seth, I think I might know where your hammer is."

Seth's eyebrows arched up in surprise. It was the first time in over a year either of them had spoken to the other in such respectful tone.

Harold stepped in front of Seth and quietly went to the bedroom. He crouched down in front of the bottom bureau drawer.

As he was opening the drawer, Seth had begun to protest. "Hey now, you can't just barge in here—" Then he stopped when Harold reached in and plucked the hammer from the very bottom of the pile and held it up triumphantly. Seth flushed with embarrassment and suddenly it all came back to him. He stammered. "Well I... I forgot..."

"I know, old friend," Harold said mournfully. "Seth, when's the last time ya been down the mountain to the doctor?"

Seth's expression hardened. "I'm fine. I'm in no need of a doctor. I'm fit as a fiddle."

Harold's eye's bore through him. "Seth, I think you need to see a doctor." He pressed.

For a moment all their old resentment hung between them as their expressions challenged each other. But then Seth saw something in Harold's eyes that he had not seen for over a year. With this, Seth's shoulders slumped in resignation, and he sighed a great huff of defeat. "I guess you're probably right, Harold. Maybe it's about time. I'm sorry I forgot that you returned that damn hammer after all."

Harold and Seth exited the house and together they quietly fixed the fence, herded the old cow back to her pasture, and went about their other daily chores. They didn't notice The Stranger, who had left his perch on the fence and was now meandering down the old dirt road, humming a tune of random notes with a sly smile spread across his face.