The Secret of the Last Stop

“Do you know the history?”

“No, and I don’t care.”

“But this is remarkable. A horse-drawn carriage, in perfect condition. You could sell it. You could donate it to a museum.”

“I can do whatever I want with it.”

“Yes, but why this? Why just leave it out here in the open?”

“Well, we knocked the old garage down. So here it sits.”

“It’s like a death sentence. The salt and the sun and the wind and the rain and the snow and the ice, they’ll be the executioners.”

“I guess you could put it that way.”

“But why?”

“That’s my business.”

“How about you let me buy it? Then we can just roll it over to my house.”

“Texas, I don’t have long myself. Me and that carriage, we’re both standing pat. And that’ll be an end of it. And whatever wrongs were done, they’ll all be right.”

“Really? You’re keeping it a secret? From me? But what’s the point?”

“Listen, one day you’ll see it. I’ll be gone. And won’t be nothing left of that old thing but bones. My secret will shine. And no one will know. My secret? That’ll be my last remark. No solution. Just the why. Why, why, why? And no answer at all. Just the thing itself. What’s left. Now, you’re a picture taker. You take that picture. Remember me that way. The secret that went to the grave.”

“The secret of the last stop.”

“I guess you could put it that way.”

7 February 2024
Texas Jim
Prospect, Nova Scotia
www.granitecoast.ca