My Journal of Weekend Write-Ins

Dream Done

The letter laid on Shawn's overcrowded desk.  He traced Marcy's name with his finger, noting two things, she still had one of the finest penmanship that he had seen and that her last name hadn't changed.

"She's probably too busy being a big shot director to be married," he scoffed as he petted Billy Wilder, his mix breed mutt. The dog placed his head on Shawn's thigh and looked up.

"I miss her too, but we can't be selfish." He meant it as a reminder to himself, knowing that the dog Marcy had baptized after one of the directors she admired, couldn't understand him.

Shawn still didn't understand why Marcy wasn't a fan of modern big gun directors like Scorsese or Spielberg. She was always a weird one, he smiled.

Marcy kept writing him, but he only wrote back once in a while. It wasn't only because he was busy working on the farm, he just didn't know what to write. How could something as mundane as saving a calf compare to the excitement of Hollywood? It couldn't.

"We need some fresh air don't we, Billy," he stood up and grabbed his stetson. If only Marcy could see him now, she probably wouldn't recognize him. Shawn wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. He was stronger, the land made sure of that.

The pastures shined like the emerald ring he had bought Marcy but never given her. It was buried somewhere in his wardrobe. Like my dreams. He shook the thought away. There was no point in having regrets. Most days he could appreciate the beauty and simplicity of his life.

He had planned to give her the ring once they made it to Hollywood. It was meant to be a promise ring.  That was before his dad got sick and he had taken over the farm. Shawn could still remember kissing her forehead when he really wanted to kiss her lips. But he knew if he had, he would have asked her to stay.

"Marcy deserves someone better than a farmer," he petted Billy. Although the picturing Marcy with one of those fancy actors made his heartbeat speed up. "Especially a flailing farmer."

Even with him working from before daybreak to sunset the farm was barely scraping by. There were too many factors outside of his control. He was in awe of how his dad had managed for so long.

The memory of the night before his life changed played in his head.

"Why don't we just sell the damn thing?" Shawn wanted to go to Hollywood with Marcy. He could see his future there.

His dad chuckled, with his deep voice. Shawn had expected him to be mad.

"Son, do you know that one seed can produce so much food? When I was in second grade I planted one lima bean as my science experiment and that tiny seed gave me eight pods," his dad smiled.

"I don't get it."

"What we plant feeds people. That's important. I may never get an award or a trophy for it, but it does matter."

Shawn nodded.

"You don't need to stay, you can go and I'm sure I'll manage." His dad's eyes closed as he said the last part. With his dad's heart condition Shawn knew that his family needed him.

He sighed as he pictured his way out of their rural town close in front of him. "I'll stay."

And he had, but it wasn't enough to make the farm thrive. So now he only had one option left.

"Old Billy, I'm going to have to have to tell Marcy I got engaged."