The Conquistador

The unnerving silence of the house is interrupted by a loud knock on the door as I sit waiting by the phone. At the door I am greeted by an old friend, whom I have not spoken to in quite some time. Albeit unexpected I am giddy about the arrival of this long time acquaintance. For the longest while we sat in the den reminiscing about times of old and the days of yesteryear. Speak of high school and college became the focal and seemed to create a never-ending timeline of memories. Parties we had attended, relationships that were worth remembering, the classes that we liked and disliked seemed to generate an incredulous list of seemingly forgotten days. As our lips grew weary and tongues exhausted, a memory was aroused that had been previously tucked away in the deep recess of my thoughts. There had been a time that this pal of mine had been exempt from all activity and I unable to recall why. A question then shot from my mind to my lips and it was the final thing I said all night, "Where have you been all of these years?" I then turned and looked out the window at the blowing snow covering the once green land, pondering, awaiting an answer. Ever so softly the response floated across the room like the snow on the currents of wind. "Where I have been is neither north nor south, east nor west. In the memories of many have I been housed for so long longing for someone to remember... to remember these days of youth. You have finally freed me from that wasteland, and I thank you. But as quickly as I came, I must go. Goodbye old friend." I did not even turn around, for I knew exactly what he meant, and where he had been. A chill rose from deep in my heart knowing that my dear old friend was neither alive nor dead. The fire dimmed in the fireplace and the wind outside picked up. A draft carried the warmth out the door replacing it with an icy layer of regret and misery. The window was frosty with the pain of not knowing where he had gone or will be going. The crackling fire and gusts of wind knocking on my door beckoned loneliness back into the room. Turning back to my chair I half expect this all to be a dream and I will be waking up any second now. I go sit in my chair and realize that this is no dream, that an old friend really is gone. Taking a look back I realize that these memories are all I have left. I gaze into the smoldering embers and my eyelids begin to sag. Dreams creep up behind me and snowflakes look in through the window to making sure that slumber peacefully finds me. The world slows to a stop, the colors fade, and my eyelids slouch together as the cold draft nips at my toes and the remaining embers lull me to sleep.