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Life happens when were busy making other plans. This is the story of an old woman, an old woman who is mean and hurtful to everyone. She wasn’t always like that though. Many, Many years ago Agatha Moss was the favorite on Robinson Rd. She attended everyone’s birthday and always gave the best presents, attended all funerals and always gave the most touching speeches, and was always there whenever one needed her. Not anymore.
“Get off my lawn you Muskrats!” Agatha Moss screeched pointing her cane at the little girls. The girls froze, turned around, and ran dropping the lilies they had been picking in front of the old woman’s house. Agatha watched as the little girls fell into their mother’s arms who were gardening together. They both simultaneously glared at Agatha and pushed their girls into their houses promising cookies and milk.
Agatha rolled her eyes, turning around, and hobbled back into her little blue house, slamming the door shut behind her. She triple locked it and sat down in her favorite chair. She picked up a photo, one of her, and a man. His hair was a shiny black color and extremely curly. He held Agatha at the hip and they both smiled like there was no tomorrow. They had the most important thing all older people want these days, the gift of youth. Agatha’s hair was like Rapunzels. The shining blonde locks lay just above her knees. Not anymore. Fourteen years ago, with the death of her husband, Agatha had lost her last blonde hair and cut her hair to her shoulders. Since then she had done the same thing every day.
She woke up every morning at exactly 6:00 and took a shower. She then would hobble crookedly into the kitchen, make herself some bran muffins, sit in her favorite chair, and listen to her late husband’s favorite CDs. After sitting there for hours she would put on her best hat and best dress, wrap a shawl around her, and sit down on her porch rocking chair. She would watch little kids ride their bikes and teenager’s with rings in every seeable place in their bodies arguing with their friends about pot prices, and new couples scouting their dream homes.
The world was changing more and more and Agatha wasn’t changing at all, with the exception of owning an old PC, which she used once a week to order groceries. Besides that, Agatha hadn’t boughten anything since 1995. If one went to see Chips grave (her late husband) you would see a string used before to tie flowers together, a moss covered gravestone, and an extremely old jar of mustard. Chip’s favorite thing in the world to eat was mustard, but she hadn’t visited his grave since he had been laid to rest there, fourteen years ago. So there you have it. She lived alone, all alone. Rumor was that she was witch. Rumor was that she was ghost. Rumor was that she was a Cannibal. People shouldn’t spread rumors. All she was was a bitter and spiteful old woman still grieving over her late husband’s death.
One afternoon rocking slowly on her porch and scouting the area for kids, who trampled all over her lawn, Agatha saw the one soul who would change her life forever. Alexi Brenner, a middle aged woman who lived up the street from Agatha, held her Terrier Poodle with one hand as she shuffled the songs in her iPod with the other. When passing Agatha’s house and Agatha herself sitting on her porch she barely even gave her a glance. Agatha watched as Alexi stopped letting her dog sniff around a bush near her lawn. The dog moved fast and within a few seconds he had trampled over her perfectly cut grass and sat in front of her. Alexi out of imbalance had dropped his leash and thereafter he had run straight to Agatha.
Agatha stared down at the drooling monster at her feet and snarled. “What in god’s name is your flea bag doing on my porch?!” she bellowed getting up out of her chair. She began hitting the dog, lightly at first, but then harder and harder with her cane. Alexi ran up snatched the dog and pulled him out of Agatha’s swinging mode. “Are you ok, Hobbs?” Alexi asked rubbing the dogs head gently. A big bump was already beginning to form. The dog, Hobbs, blinked and the strangest expression crossed his hairy face. Alexi, her face buried in his back happy that he was safe, didn’t see the expression. Agatha did though. She pulled a breath in sharply, mumbled something about getting off her porch or she would call the police, and slammed her front door close behind her. The expression scared her and she didn’t want to see it again.
She continued her night normally and fell asleep on her favorite chair. She was sleeping soundly when she heard a noise and woke up suddenly. She got up slowly, feeling around in the darkness for her cane. Finally grabbing it by the handle she hobbled over to the kitchen. Turning on her light she looked out into the night. Everything was still. The moon shone brightly and lit up the road. There was movement in a bush and Agatha moved her attention towards it. There was a rustle and a few leaves from bush fluttered to the ground. It was quiet again. Curious, Agatha opened her door and walked out onto her porch. The bush stood still. It was as still as --. Suddenly she saw a shadow, then the sound of branches snap, and she was on the ground. On top of her sat Hobbs. He was panting and had a smug smile across his face. Agatha let her breath out fast and blinked. She pinched herself in hope of this all being a dream.
Hobbs hopped off of Agatha so she could sit up and sat down next to her. “So you lose someone and turn into a bitter old lady?” Hobbs said pointing his snout towards the ground, “We’ve all lost people, Agatha! We don’t make other people miserable and ourselves at the same time because of it!” Agatha sat there and stared. Hobbs had talked. He had talked English, real words! Agatha thought for a second and then afraid it was all in her head she took a chance and said, “And how would you know that?” She held her breath in anxiously. She felt like a little kid on Christmas, really excited.
There was a pause then an answer, one that broke her heart clean through. “I watched as my mother, father, and siblings were slaughtered and without Alexi that would have been my fate too.” A tear trickled down Agatha’s cheek and she felt a lump form in her throat. She remembered how she had hit him hard with her cane. She wiped her eyes and with the most feeling she had ever used before apologized. “I…I’m...sorry...I didn’t know… I’m...sorry.” The happy Christmas kid feeling was gone.
“It ok,” he interrupted turning towards Agatha a far off glint still in his eyes, “I’d like you to promise me something.” “Anything,” Agatha said truthfully, “I owe you that much.”
Hobbs smiled sadly, and continued, “I want you to be happy and treat people the way you want to be treated. Be like you were before Chip dyed! He may be gone but your still here and your life isn’t over at all, it only just beginning. Bark, Bark!” Agatha had closed her eyes as Hobbs was talking and with the barks she opened them. She was on her front lawn, grass stains on her dress and the sun was just coming up over the horizon. She looked where Hobbs had been sitting and he was gone and the grass he had been sitting on was untouched as if he had never been there in the first place.
Agatha ran into her house, took a shower, put on her best clothes, ate a hardy breakfast of some bacon she had ordered on accident, and hopped into her old car. It took a few tries but finally the motor started and she was off. A few minutes later she arrived at the front doors of her neighborhood Church and flung the doors wide open. She walked right up to the front of the room to the priest who had stopped preaching and whispered in his ear. He moved aside and she put her mouth to the microphone. “I’m sorry.” She began sighing heavily, her old friends looked up at her in aw, “I went through a bad time and I ignored the people around me. I thought that no one was there for me and in feeling I dyed with Chip, but, I now realize, can you believe it? Fourteen years later!” she chuckled, one or two people let a giggle out too, “That I have been horribly mistaken. Life isn’t about living in general, life is about experiencing what life has to offer whether its happiness or suffering. I didn’t know that before but now I do. So I’m sorry.” With that she left the church, got back into her car, and drove home.
So now you’ve heard it, the story of a dead husband, a sour old woman, and a magic dog. Agatha Moss just shows us that with a heartfelt apology you can get one of life’s greatest gifts back, friendship.
Just the next day Agatha heard a knock at the door. She put down the pie she had been baking and opened it. In front of her stood her two oldest best friends she hadn’t spoken too for fourteen years. “We forgive you!” they said.