Something Old

Something Old

by Chinyin Cheu

In 1945, traveling from Waite Park, Minnesota to Colton, California can take three days to a week–a great advancement from months of travel to reach a destination several states away.

Rosemary Phillipi found peace in the steady reverberations of the train, lulling her into a dreamy state. The landscape outside blurred into blotches of green and brown as her mind drifted back to a sunny day back home.

“I found it! I found it!” James voice called from outside the house. Seconds later, he bounced in through the door, waving a blue ribbon like a flag. The sun caught its silvery-blue threads, casting iridescent sparks around his grinning face.

The shrill whistle of the train jolted Rosemary from the reverie. The corners of her mouth turned up at the fond memory. Her fingers longed to reach out and tousle her younger brother’s soft curls again.

“Something old, something new,” Rosemary whispered, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. Her fingers moved on their own, checking off a mental list. Joseph would’ve told her to write it down. He always thought it helped to have something tangible. His smiling face filled her thoughts. The train ride will be long, but he will be waiting on the other side of the world for her.

A woman walked down the aisle and a faint scent of rosewater steals into Rosemary’s nose. She is reminded of when Grandma had taken her to her room and sat her down at the vanity. Wispy tendrils of rosewater and lavender perfume lingered in the room. The muted sunlight of the late afternoon shone lazily through the windowpanes. Sliding open a drawer, Grandma brought out an ornate jewelry box. When she opened it, Rosemary recognized her great grandmother’s bone hair pin, nestled in a cushion of white silk.

Knowing what her grandma intended, her lips parted, about to protest.

But grandma’s face was set, “It’s your wedding, Rosie. A once-in-a-lifetime occasion. Everything has to be just right. Besides, your great grandmother would turn in her grave if she knew you didn’t wear it for your wedding.

Returning to the present, a couple walking past brought with them the greasy smell of bacon and fried fish. Rosemary had had her eighty-five-cent breakfast earlier. Yet, a vague feeling of nausea swirls up from her stomach. She slid her arm across her mid-section in a protective gesture. The rocking of the train became more pronounced.

Unbidden, a suspicious worm of thought nibbled at the edge of Rosemary’s brain. Had she forgotten something important in her rush to get into the cab after Mr. Walsh’s visit? Rosemary’s heart started pounding with the rhythmic rumble of the train. Heat surged up her face. She had packed everything…didn’t she? There was nothing left on the bed before she left. Her mind drifted light as a ghost to the morning of her departure.

Mr. Walsh from across the street had stopped by. His four-knock sequence brought a smile to her face. Knock-knock-pause-knock-knock. Setting the jewelry box down on the table next to the door, she opened the door to a beaming Mr. Walsh.

“I just want to say how proud I am of you and Joseph. You’re brave taking the train half way across the nation to get married and Joseph for being in the war, helping us have peace in our country.” He held out his arms and Rosemary stepped into the warm hug she had felt since she was peering over the card table on tippy-toes at Mr. Walsh teaching her brothers to play board games like Sorry!. “I’m going to miss you. Take care now.”

Returning to the rumbling of the train, Rosemary hiccupped. Her heart felt like it had fallen deep down into her stomach, never wanting to surface again. She could hardly breathe.

The jewelry box.

She had forgotten to retrieve it after Mr. Walsh left. Deep down, she knew Grandma understood that she hadn’t left it on purpose.

Her hand trembled as it reached deep into her purse, feeling again and again for the nonexistent familiar corners of the jewelry box. Tears prickled from behind her eyelids.

“What’s the matter, dear?” An older lady sitting across the aisle from her asked. Her unusually silver hair floating like a cloud around her concerned face.

“Oh!” Rosemary jumped slightly. “I...forgot to bring something very precious to me…” She trailed off, catching her tears in her throat, swallowing to push them down and away.

“Now, tell me if I’m a bother, but are you going to California to get married?”

“How did you—” Another hiccup kept Rosemary from finishing her question.

The lady smiled and waved the question away.

“What are you missing?”

“Something old.” The hiccups subsided. Rosemary breathed a sigh of relief.

“Let me guess, it was for your hair. Something light-colored to compliment your dark locks.” The lady nodded to herself.

Unable to form words, Rosemary could only gape.

“I have something that is just right for you.” The lady reached into her purse and held out a silver comb.

Rosemary stared at the comb, taken by the intricacies of its design. The lady moved her hand forward, urging Rosemary to take it.

The comb felt cool in her hand. Flowers, leaves, and berries adorned the top as if it was crafted for a fairy bride. The hair comb reminded Rosemary of walking through trails by the river back home. Trees on the sides, their smaller branches waving in the breeze, or standing still as British soldiers guarding the English castle. Birds calling above, chipmunks gamboling below with peculiar mushrooms growing in the ground. The smell of the air so fresh it cleared her mind of any unneeded clutter.

Rosemary shook her head to return to find the lady walking down the aisle to the next car.

“Wait!” She called, getting up from her seat to go after her.

The lady turned and waved with a mischievous smile. Her wispy silver hair shining brighter than before. She opened the door and disappeared behind it. When Rosemary got to the other car, she found it empty of the lady. Asking around, no one else had seen an older lady with silver hair pass through.

In a daze, Rosemary walked back to her seat. The comb clutched in her hand as if it would vanish along with the mysterious lady.

Great grandmother was going to turn in her grave. But Rosemary still had something old to complete her wedding tradition.