Towards His Summer's End

Summer.

Ah, I love summer. Summers have always been the best part of the year for me. I would visit Pops every summer without fail. Pops is my father's adoptive father. Dad says he likes having company and I was always the best candidate considering we had the same idea of what's fun and what's not.

10 years of visiting Pops without fail. Travelling was never a problem for me even if it took us at least 6 hours by car or bus. This little bubble of excitement inside me wells up as I see the view from my window change from a bustling metropolis to a sleepy backwater town where everybody knew everybody. When I was little, Dad always had to drive me to Pops but as soon as I became 12, I just rode the bus while Pops waited at the only bus stop in town waiting for me.

I've spent 10 summers with Pops but I never really knew him. Dad said he was once a doctor of sorts who quit his practice after his wife died. Other townspeople say that Pops was a real somebody back in the day. They say that he was a big shot journalist who had to hide from a couple of bad people from the city and that is why he retreated to the boondocks.

Personally, I never knew much about Pops. All I knew is that he likes milk in the morning and a swig of whiskey in the evening. He likes striped bass more than rainbow trout and he never really liked Babe Ruth as a person. He is indifferent with political issues but believes somebody better should lead the country. He also likes sitting by the porch every afternoon watching the plains roll at the distance. He had little to no problems with life and everybody in town loved him. He never gave to charity but always had a job for somebody who needed bread. He also said he stared into the jaws of a bear once and lived. He also likes talking about how Elvis Presley was the next messiah but the world wasn't really ready for him. He never used salt in his food but was always craving beef jerky.

It was always fun spending summer with Pops. As soon as school closed, I was already preparing my stuff when Dad entered my room and said that he will be driving me to Pops. I said it was OK and that I can just take the bus as usual but he insisted that he does. We went our way the morning after and we arrived at Pop's place right around noon.

The place looked empty. It was a 4-room bungalow and there were two rooms that I was not allowed to enter. One was his study and the other was his room. Dad emptied the car and went inside. There was a lovely lady inside the house who greeted us. I have never seen her my entire life but it seemed like she knew my father. The house looked the same way I remembered it a year ago. The creaky door, the mismatched drapes, the musty smell of mold in the ceiling - it was how I remembered it.

I asked Dad if he knew where Pops was and he said he's in his room. The lady motions dad towards the room and said I could wait in his study. It was the first time for me to enter that room. The room was empty aside from a couple of tables and some books on the shelves. In the center of the room was an old chair that looked like one the dentist uses, but it looked much older than the ones with levers and lights. On the table was an old typewriter with some pieces of paper on the side. On them were stories. I sat down on the old dentist's chair and picked up the papers by the side of the typewriter. Tears ran down my cheeks when I read the first line on what seemed to be a recollection of memories.

"In a month, his summer is about to start while it seems like the summer of my life is coming to an end"