by Maria Malia

Created on: April 12, 2009

"His Name is Bill"

Bill just sits there. Waiting. His turn will come. He knows it. It is just a matter of time.

Patience. That is what he needs. That is what he has. All these years have surely taught him patience.

Bill is wrinkled and worn. He wears a tattered blue-checkered shirt. Several buttons are missing down the front, but they are well-hidden behind his faded bibbed overalls.

His hat, molded tightly to his slightly balding head, resembles a crumpled piece of brown construction paper instead of the richly tailored fedora it used to be.

Bill is barefoot, his boots long since gone.

Lonely? Yes, Bill is lonely. Now. But it has not always been so.

He has been loved - loved dearly by a special friend. There was a time when they traveled the world together.

Paris. London. Rome. Oh, the things they saw; the people they met.

Even now, after so many years, he carries a picture of his dear little Rebecca in his hip pocket.

But that was then. This is now. Still he waits.

He stares blankly at the large grimy window in the crooked front door of the shop. The cracked tile floor below the door is dappled with filtered rays of sunshine - like spots on a leopard's back.

Small swirls of dust rise into the air and linger in the sunlight as weary shoppers shuffle through the door.

The junk store has been Bill's home since Rebecca left. Things here are comfortable.

Just off to the right of the door is a familiar stack of old books balancing precariously on the shelf like a circus performer on the high wire. Their pages are worn, creased, and cracked.

Like the people in the store, the books have lost their shine, their polish.

The folks who shop in this store are too tired and too intent on just getting by in life to need or want the adventure and excitement found in those dusty books.

They have little hope.

Still he waits. Does he dare hope?

The rickety door opens and little dust eddies rise as she enters. Bill brightens.

This is it. He knows the time has come.

She looks at him and the love in her heart shines through her eyes. Bill's wait is over.

Letting go of her daddy's hand, Jennifer picks Bill up off the dusty counter to hug and squeeze him fiercely. Rebecca's faded picture slips silently from his back pocket and floats gently, unnoticed, to the floor.

The little girl has finally found the most perfect teddy bear in the world. She will cherish him forever.

She will name him Bob.

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