Twitterive

                                                                    PROLOGUE

       It was a beautiful summer night in 1988. The sky was blanketed with stars, the bright, full moon shined its light on the lake making it look as if it twinkled, and a delightful summer breeze blew gently through the trees… Ok, not really. It was a summer night in 1988; it was still, it was balmy, there were bugs, and we were bored. The only entertainment my friends and I had was ourselves. So, what did we do? I’ll tell you what we did. We wrote our names in hairspray and lit them on fire. IT WAS AWESOME!!! However, it wasn’t so awesome when our brilliant idea resulted in nearly burning down the historic wooden pavilion in the center of Knight Park.

        Over the course of my life, Knight Park has given me memories that will forever remain with me. When I walk through the park today, those memories come rushing back as vividly as the day they were made. However, something about the park has changed; Knight Park seems to be lacking in the allure and excitement it once held for me. I began taking walks through the park almost daily in search of why. I noticed each time I returned my enthusiasm diminished, and I became less and less interested in recalling the memories of my past. It was then that I realized I had discovered my answer. It’s not the park that has changed, I changed; I grew up, moved on, created new memories, and filed away old ones.

        Life brings forth changes that can alter how we view things; a place that once brought us warmth and comfort can suddenly create feelings of anxiety or sadness. Similarly, we often romanticize a place that was once the setting of a remarkable event or a simpler, happier time in our life. This Twitterive is a story based on that premise. What brought people to and drove them away from this 60-acre park embedded within a small community? Perhaps it was the setting for their wedding photos, their first kiss, a break-up, a win or loss, a picnic. Whichever it may be, that memory will undoubtedly shape their view of Knight Park. I know it has shaped mine.

                                                                      Knight Park

July 2, 1905

My Dearest Edward,

I was sorry to have to say goodbye to you yesterday. The hours that have passed have left me breathless, but when I think of our time together, your love for me brings back a rush to my heart.

My dear friend Rose took me for a pleasant stroll through the park today. The fragrant, beautiful world lying so quietly under the pine and oak trees reminds me of our time there. We had many delightful times there, didn’t we? The pageants, carnivals, boat rides, intimate moments; the loveliness of those memories will forever remain with me. As I sat on our bench along the bank of the Grove, I could see you leaning against the tall oak as the sun filtered through its finger-like branches. It was the day of our community social. Had it not been for the sound of a bird breaking its stillness, I could have gotten lost in that memory forever. My dearest, this is my first letter to you and I fear I am saying too much. I’ll write again tomorrow.

All my love,

Katherine

                                                                                                                                                               July 20, 1905

My Dearest Heart,

            I was pleased to receive your letter. I assure you it gave me joy. After saying goodbye to you, I was feeling a bit melancholy, but the memories you wrote of, the blissful moments we have shared came creeping over me and my heavy heart was lifted. Yes, my dearest, I remember the day of our community social very well. My brother John and I posed in front of the tree for the local newspaper while you and your dear friend Rose looked on. I longed to be alone with you. You were breathtaking. I can still see you standing near the bank of the lake. The soft rose-colored fabric accentuated your S-curve silhouette. Your delicate gloved hands clasped in front. The broad brimmed hat that hid your long, wavy hair, but called attention to the soft lips I yearned to kiss. Oh what I wouldn’t do to hold you in my arms! There is nothing in this world more difficult than to be in love and yet attend to business.

I miss you most in the evening; when the sky is orange and pink and the peaceful, alluring lake is still. It feels as if nothing exists around us and you’re relaxed in my arms. Don’t misunderstand me, my love. I did not intend to imply our afternoon boat rides do not give me immense pleasure. Go there-~ to the boat landing. The roses there will serve as a reminder that I will always be near you even when I’m far. It was from that very rose bush that I handed you a delicate pink flower as you stepped onto the boat.

It is my hope that my time here in the city will serve me well. My recent appointment to local council has made me look towards greater things. I have been working day and night, depriving myself of any pleasures, to achieve an impossible victory. I know it is difficult for you to understand. Please darling, do not think ill of me. I will try to return to you soon. I end here with a thousand tender kisses.

                                                                       ~ Edward

August 29, 1906

My Dearest Edward,

          I hope this letter finds you well. Have you not tired of the city and the twelve hour work days you write of? My selfish heart hopes so. I walked with sad thoughts into the Grove. I threw myself down on the bank of grass, where our prints still remain on the flattened green, and stared up at the pale blue sky peeking through the lush, green trees. There with innumerable sighs, I remember the tender minutes we shared during your last visit. When you looked at me, I felt that your soul was gazing into mine. When you held me, I was unable to speak because I heard nothing but the pulsing of my heart and all of my thoughts become a blur. When you kissed me, I felt the fervor of your desire. I’m sorry we had to part so quickly and when so many things were near our lips. It is terribly difficult not having you near me every minute of every day. I come to the park so I can feel you near me. I routinely pick a sweet smelling rose and hold it close to my heart as I stroll along the grounds. I didn’t do that today. Instead I went to our spot and found where we will remain forever.

                                                           All my Love,

                                                                      Katherine

November 18, 1906

My Dearest Heart,

There is nothing that pains me more than to have to write you of such sorrow. Had it not been for your letters, I would have been consumed by my despair...

I think of you more than I breathe. I long to caress the face that I adore one last time, but I fear it is an impossibility....

My Eternal Love-

~ Edward

        Katherine stood at the edge of the park. Her heart was pounding and her stomach ached. She didn't think she could bring herself to step one foot on park grounds, but she had no choice. Katherine took a deep breath, and slowly began walking towards the festivities. In years past, she waited impatiently for the summer festival, but this year was different.

         The park was stirring with activity. The music from the carousel played endlessly and the jubilant shouts from the Ferris wheel echoed through the park. As Katherine strolled over the brick colored wooden bridge, she could smell the freshly popped kettle corn and the sugary smells of cotton candy and freshly baked treats. The ice-cream stand appeared to be the town favorite as its line trailed to the perimeter of the park. Katherine was nearly knocked over by a little boy who scurried past her overjoyed to have finally gotten his mint chocolate chip ice-cream cone… Edward’s favorite, she recalled. She took another deep breath and continued towards the pavilion.

        The jazz quartet played as the pageant girls proceeded to the small, white stage. Katherine’s younger sister Mary was a participant this year, and it was her duty to be there in support of her. As Katherine approached, she noticed the baby contest taking place in the nearby field. A dozen or so babies were lined up in their coaches; all adorned with red, white, and blue ribbons and American flags. Katherine longed to have a child of her own, but she feared such a blessing may never come. She greeted her sister with a kiss hello and a warm, but forced, compliment and took a seat. When the pageant finally ended, she congratulated Mary and started towards the dirt path. She could hear her chaperone yelling for her, but Katherine acted as if her call was lost in the noise of the deafening crowd. She couldn’t bear to be trapped for another minute among the merry gentle-mannered women.

        When she finally looked up, she found herself amidst the long shadows of the trees. Katherine frantically weaved her way in and out, desperate to find evidence that would prove all of those moments of complete bliss weren’t just a dream. It was there. She knew it was there. She remembers that day with Edward, when the verdant trees shielded their forbidden love from unwanted eyes. He told her there were doors they have yet to open and that he stood before her with passionate unrest. Katherine can still smell his tobacco pipe as he etched their initials in the old trunk. She felt paralyzed by the emptiness she felt inside.

       The silence was broken by the sound of the wilted leaves rustling and crunching as her displeased chaperone walked towards her repeatedly calling her name. “Katherine… Katherine… What were you thinking? It is not suitable for a single, young woman to be wandering alone.” Katherine tilted her hat down so it would conceal her eyes and asked to be escorted home. The clouds slowly gathered together and it began to unexpectedly drizzle.

                                                               FINE ARTS AND CRAFTS FESTIVAL

                                                                           SAT, JULY 4, 2010

                                                                               KNIGHT PARK

                                                                                 10AM-6PM

Kate was relieved she found the flyer. It was hidden between the piles of bills she was avoiding. Ed loved the old black and white photographs from a particular vendor that was going to be there, and she wanted to surprise him with one. Within minutes, she had her Nike’s laced, her Phillies hat on, and she was out the door.

        The park was bustling with activity. It seemed the whole town converged in the park to check out the fine arts and crafts and listen to the local talent. Kate walked over the brick colored wooden bridge and towards the pavilion where she heard the smooth sounds of jazz floating through the air. The smell of freshly popped kettle corn and deep fried funnel cake filled her senses as she zigzagged her way through the crowd. One hundred and eighty vendors blanketed the park. Some had set up an easel to capture the day; the contrast of the lush green trees and the bright blue sky was a picture in itself.

       As she approached the vendor she sought out, Kate was immediately drawn to a picture that was hanging on display. It was dated 1905. Two men were posed leaning against the big oak that still stands in front of the very pavilion that remains in the center of the park. It reminded her of a picture she had taken of Ed leaning against that same tree. He wasn’t dressed as formally, of course; the 21st century didn’t require much more than a baseball hat, vintage t-shirt, and jeans. Nonetheless, it captured a day in time when she was happiest. Kate purchased the picture along with two others and continued to stroll through the park. She sat down on the paint chipped wooden bench along the bank of the lake and stared intently at the photos. When she finally looked up, she realized she was sitting directly across from the pavilion- the one in her picture.   Kate began to wonder what story was behind this photo. Was it taken for his sweetheart? Where was she when this photo was taken? What would her relationship with Ed be like if it was 1905?

        She got up from the bench and walked towards the entrance of the pavilion. She placed one foot on its step and she could smell the piney scent of Polo cologne, Marlboro Lights, hairspray, and charred wood as if it was that summer night in 1988. She wondered what made them write their names in hairspray on the floor and light it on fire. She shook her head and chuckled as she stepped out the other end of the pavilion. She reminded herself to tell Ed that story in her next letter.

       She walked towards the worn and cracked road that snaked through the park and saw a young couple kissing by the swings. They appeared so deeply in love and it reminded her of when she first met Ed. She missed him so much. She had no idea where he was or if he was ok. It had been a month since she received a letter, but she tried not to worry. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her cell phone notifying her of a text message: don't 4get 2 bring the beer! Ughh! The barbecue! She quickly turned around and headed towards the Little League field. She walked in and out of the clusters of trees; stopping only to tie her shoe. At that moment, the strong smell of pipe tobacco filled the air.   Aside from the muted sounds of the band playing, there was no sign of anyone, but something made her look up. She couldn’t believe what she saw etched in the tree trunk: EK KL. It was her and Ed’s initials. A tear streamed down her face for she missed him now more than ever.

July 4, 2010

Hey Babe!

How are you!? I miss you SO much! I feel like I have so much to tell you. I went to the festival in the park & it reminded me of a story I can’t believe I never told you…

The Letters

The Letters... One year later

RETURN TO SENDER...

FLASH FORWARD...