Golden Bird

Once out in the fresh air again, he looked around at his newly acquired property. He noticed the cat grooming herself under an abandoned '67 Ford pick-up. The truck was resting under the full branches of an ancient red maple; its hood left up as though someone had tried to bring life to the engine, but had given up and walked away in disgust. The passenger door hung open, and David could see the torn vinyl cushions partially covered by an old plaid blanket. Grass had grown long around the tires, making them seem rooted in the earth, and under the truck, though the grass, the bright eyes of the cat glared out at this intruder to her domain.

David glanced at his watch. He'd spent too much time already on this inspection. Reluctantly he started for the Continental, reflecting how out of place the big car looked in this rural setting. He would have to buy a truck to replace that old relic in the yard that was slowly becoming part of the landscape. He took one last look around before getting into the car, and wished his wife, or rather ex-wife, had wanted this kind of life. Maybe they would have been happier together away from the pressures that came with his being a partner in one of the most successful law firms in Boston.

David had been the youngest partner in the firm of Casey, Lamont, and Birney, and had been on his way to becoming one of the best tax attorneys in the city. His colleagues couldn't understand how he could give up such a bright career, but ever since Sam's useless death, David had realized that his life had been a sham. For all his success, he hadn't really been happy.

His family was like strangers to him. He had missed all of Sam's childhood, first while going to school, then while working himself to exhaustion in the early days of his career. Now Katie, his daughter, was fast becoming a young woman, and he didn't even know her. He hoped all that would change now that he had the farm. Katie could come up to spend the summers, and they could get to know one another. He hoped Katie didn't resent him for the divorce, but her mother had given him no choice.

Marge had been devastated by the death of her first born. She had blamed David for letting Sam join the Marines at such a young age, when he could have followed in his father's footsteps. But that hadn't been Sam's dream. The boy had craved excitement, adventure, and had believed in the glamour of the military. There had been no way David could have persuaded his son to give up his dream which had ended itself in a silver casket, draped with the American flag.