The Blog

Helen’s new life is driving her crazy. The rooms in the retirement home seem to grow smaller every day, and she’s plagued with unexplainable headaches. She misses the land she used to live on and the gardens she used to grow. Her only relief comes from walking the thin trail of grass that links the tiny patios outside apartments in the home. She walks by the patios, wondering how the people live on the other side of their doors.

Helen is at the center of “Cherry Tomatoes,” my most recently published short story. As she tries to adjust to her new life, her one friend is Marshall, a robust man with a hearty laugh who grows tomatoes in pots on his patio. Sometimes when Helen passes his patio on her walks, he tries to share his tomatoes with her, but she refuses the pitiful little fruits and questions why he tries to grow anything in such a restricted environment. She also declines his invitation to share a glass of apricot brandy with him in the evening.

But one day, when the walls in her apartment are more than Helen can stand, she thinks maybe she will have that glass of apricot brandy with Marshall. So she puts on a sweater to guard against the late afternoon chill and walks beside the patios, hoping Marshall will again be tending his tomato plants and invite her in.

She discovers Marshall on his patio, but he’s not tending tomatoes. He’s lying on his back, his arms clasped tightly across his chest, his head rolling from side to side. While paramedics work on her friend, Helen stands to the side, “absorbed by the battle—Marshall’s spirit struggling to get free and him refusing to let it go. Marshall sweating, vomiting, but refusing to let go.”

Marshall’s battle has a profound effect on Helen. And on the tomatoes, as well.

Voices from the Porch is available from The Main Street Rag Press. Its collection of stories, essays, and poems explore life as it unfolds in outdoor living spaces, including the memories, reflections, and insights that seem to emerge from the porch and patio air. As the editor, Maureen Sherbondy, suggests, “Grab a seat  . . . sip a sweet tea, take a swig of whiskey. Sit back and enjoy these tales.”