I Pressed My Nose Up Against the Window

Inside. That’s exactly where I wanted to be. If I could have dissolved the glass and stepped inside, I would have made a dream come true. Here’s what I saw….

8 responses to “I Pressed My Nose Up Against the Window

  1. Perhaps it is a tap on the shoulder. Turning instinctively, I see him standing on the other side, looking just as he had the last time we had been together. As if he had never left for Mexico that January to see the flight of the monarchs. As if I hadn’t been counting the weeks until his return and there had been no year-long break since we last shared a meal at my table.
    He is smiling as he always had. His smile radiates heat through the glass and disarms my protective armor -the one I developed in the months of his absence. In the warmth, my calloused heart softens to a new-born’s skin. A tingle that surfaces compels me to confess. I need to tell him that I miss him and that I loll in his absence. I wait too long to say that I too want to be let in. He turns and disappears before I, once again, have the chance to say goodbye.

  2. From The Files of The Make-A-Wish Foundation

    It was another dark day in Big City. The atmospheric inversion that was trapping the soot and smoke from the many nearby steel mills was well into its second week. The sky remained dark at noon and, as if to make matters worse, the city was choked by the aftereffects of the worst snowstorm in 70 years.

    In the Contagious Care Unit of Big City Hospital, little Willy Makette lay in his bed inside a hermetically sealed room. Thick glass “port holes” acted as windows, allowing the staff to monitor Willy’s condition, which was beyond grave. It was early on January 6th, 1939, that head nurse, Polly Knott RN, entered the CCU and pressed the intercom button to speak with little Willy.

    “Little Willy, I have some bad news. Doctor Robert, the only member of our staff who thought you had even the remotest chance of recovery has been arrested for quackery and his license to practice medicine revoked. I know how sad this must make you feel, but we have someone here who, we hope, will be able to cheer you up. This is Mrs. Betty Wont, she’s with the Make-A-Wish Foundation and she would like to grant you a special wish.”

    Through the thick glass window of the CCU, little Willy could barely make out the shape of Mrs. Wont as she fumbled with the intercom button to make herself heard.

    “Hello little Willy,” Mrs. Wont said hesitantly. “I represent an organization that helps to make dreams come true for little guys like yourself.” Her voice became unsteady as she noticed the “toe-tag” hanging from little Willy’s foot. It was completely filled out except for “Expiration Day.”

    “We would like to grant you a special wish. Do you have a special wish you would like to see come true? Maybe a letter from a Hollywood star, a baseball signed by your favorite player, or a ‘gift’ from a dog named Eddie. How about a triple banana split?” Mrs. Wont shot a glance at nurse Knott as she wasn’t sure the banana split would fit through the CCU airlock, but nurse Knott, moving her index finger repeatedly across her neck, indicated they could cut it into pieces.

    It was clear little Willy didn’t know what to say. Through several minutes-long bouts of severe coughing, he managed to convey the words, “I, I would really like….,” but said no more. Nurse Knott went over to a sophisticated looking console and adjusted the oxygen level in the CCU to maximum. Little Willy, after another coughing bout lasting over 5 minutes, said, “I’ve always wished for, always wished , for…”

    The suspense was more than the two women could handle. “Wished for what little Willy? WHAT?,” Nurse Knott yelled into the intercom.

    Little Willy turned his head to look at the women standing just beyond the glass. He gathered all his will and desire to communicate, and, in his best voice, he said, “Golly, I really wish Germany would invade Poland,” or something that sounded very much like that. And with that, little Willy lapsed into a 12-minute period of relentless coughing and spoke no more.

    Mrs. Betty Wont carefully wrote his wish down on her notepad, thanked nurse Knott, and trundled off through the snow and slush on that sun-less day, ready to make another child’s wildest dream come true.

  3. Love the suspense. And yes, you have now started WWII. Hard to beat!

    • Thank you! This was my first idea, which I never completed.

      “Kellen got up and moved closer to the image prominently displayed on the wall. So close in fact that it nearly filled his field of view. That’s what he wanted. To become part of what he saw. To imagine living in that time, in that place. Behind a robust and seemingly impenetrable sheet of glass, depicted in fuzzy shades of gray, lay a typical apartment living room. A room from the past, but one in which Kellen was quite familiar.

      A fashionably appointed window behind a spinet piano was centered on the back wall. On either side of the window were two wood-trimmed six-panel doors. The door to the left was that of a closet. The door on the right led to the apartment building hallway. On the left side of the room was a fireplace with a wood mantle. It was from that spot that many a grand assessment of the state of the world, and this small space within it, had been made. A couch, large enough for three people, occupied the center of the room. This couch, more often than not, acted as a front-row seat for whatever pugilistic contest that the young medium of television could find to broadcast during the limited operating hours of the transmitters. More important than any of these details however was….”

      This is a description of the “I Love Lucy” living room. Kellen was going to be feeling depression over a sentimental longing for the past. Wanting to pass through the glass. The end would have Kellen brighten up hearing the words, “Luuucccyyyyy, I’m home.” In the end, I decided this was too “cutesy” (Jeff Switt would disapprove) and opted for little Willie instead.

  4. Yes, you make it easy to like Little Willie Makette.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s