On Frozen Pond

The big dam was just that, it was a massive dam at the back of old Tom’s property. It sat high on a hill and fed the smaller dams that were created further down the valley. They were for the animals; the big dam was for the family. It had become his favourite place to hide. The farm didn’t need him, Tom junior saw to that, and since his wife Jenny had passed, old Tom found himself here almost every day. It had been the place she liked to come, when the work was done, and the family came around, she would sit and watch the children and grandchildren play and grow. When it took her fancy, she would walk around the edge, until she became too frail to.

The dam was big enough and deep enough to have some fun in. Old Tom built a jetty and a shed to keep the kayaks and canoes in, young Tom put a jet ski in, and a long slide made of black plastic was brought out every summer for the brave ones to test their luck down the steep embankment. It was full of perch and trout and fishing was old Tom’s guilty pleasure. It had everything to help relieve the mind and body from the stresses and strains of running a farm.

Jenny called it ‘Golden Pond’, like the movie, because in the afternoon as the sun set lower, the shine off the shimmering water glowed gold. Tom thought it too big to be called a pond, but the name stuck, and everyone knew it as that. Before Jenny died, young Tom built her a shack near the jetty so she could spend more time there as her illness took hold. No power, just a bed and basic kitchen and a verandah with a comfortable chair to sit on. Toward the end, when there was no more that could be done to help her, she and Tom would spend days and nights there, enjoying as much of each other’s company as time would allow. It was her wish that she be allowed to spend her final hours in that shack by her pond and Tom made sure his love got what she wanted. She died as peacefully as her body allowed hand in hand with her husband.

Jenny died in the winter, which seemed fitting to Tom because it left him feeling cold and empty. In his grief he withdrew into himself, and his son left him alone as much as he could, but there were things that still needed his wisdom and by spring, the lambs were birthing, and crops needed harvesting. Understanding his responsibilities, old Tom pulled himself out of his funk and returned to the work that once gave him so much joy, but now was merely a distraction to get him through his days. Slowly he began recalling conversations he’d had with Jenny. Jenny’s great joy was her family, and she would remind him that as much as they needed him, he needed them.

That was two years ago, and old Tom had begun enjoying his time alone at the dam. His family still came there for relaxation and fun and in school holidays he was there to watch the grandchildren, but mostly he was there with his fishing rod, maybe a book, but mostly his thoughts.

It was on one of these quiet thoughtful days when he saw something so incredible, he thought he had succumbed to senility. The sky was cloudless, there was barely a breath of wind and Tom could see for miles. The normal soundtrack of the day was mute, not even the noisy cockatoos that had been making a racket of late were to be found, then from behind the hill that rose up to the west, a strange shape appeared. Initially just a speck, but it quickly grew larger, and Tom became aware that whatever it was, was coming toward him. He had been sitting on the verandah of the shack and being early in the morning, had the sun behind him, so his vision of this thing was clear. It was some kind of flying craft. By the speed of its approach, old Tom estimated it would likely hit the lake and maybe skip off into the shack. Just as he was about to run, its speed reduced rapidly till it hovered above the water, almost soundlessly it descended. Upon touching the surface, the water instantly froze and despite the amazing scene unfolding before him, only one thought entered Tom’s mind, it’s not golden pond anymore, it’s frozen pond.

Feeling no fear, Tom walked to the end of the jetty to assess his chances of walking on water; he wanted to get a better look, the view before him was astounding. As he strode along, a large hatch opened on the craft creating a ramp, and a lone figure emerged and started walking toward him. It was at least 500 metres away, but it looked human. The uniform it wore was not shiny like he thought a spaceman’s suit would look and the being sported long wavy blonde hair cut in a mullet style. Old Tom then felt a tinge of fear as he tried to fathom the unlikeliness of what he was seeing there in front of him. His knees buckled under his weight, and he found himself sitting on the jetty, staring at a face he hadn’t seen in over forty years.

“Hi Tom. You got old mate,” the man said, standing on the ice just a few metres away from him.

“Bob! What the hell! This isn’t real, I must be losing my mind, or I’m dead. Am I dead Bob? Is this how it happens? The crossing over.” Tom was white as a sheet and pulling his pen knife from his pocket, he was about to ram it into his thigh, but Bob shouted,

“No Tom, you don’t have to do that, you’re not dead, what you see is real, it may take some explaining though.”

Tom stopped, mid strike, still pale and now with a shake in his body he was struggling to control. The knife fell from his grip and bounced over the ice.

“Do you think, maybe we could find somewhere to sit and chat? My feet are getting quite cold,” Bob was shuffling on the spot with a pleading look. Tom vaguely nodded his head and looked toward the shack, then rising shakily, made his way back down the jetty, holding the rail for support. When he got to the end, Bob was already there, and offered some assistance to the older man. Tom refused and finally got to the porch and flopped onto his favourite chair. Bob sat on the top step, studying the man he once knew as a childhood friend.

“I know what I see, and I usually trust my eyes, but this can’t be!” Tom started, taking in every feature of the man before him. “You’re dead, you died, the plane crash, the body. How? Did they clone you?”

“If you give me a couple of minutes, I can explain. Do you think your heart can take it, old man?” Bob added with a cheeky grin.

“Hey enough of the old, ya cheeky bastard, we should be the same age, if you are who I think you are,” Tom had stopped shaking but now his body was tight and on guard.

Bob began, starting with the terrible accident 45 years earlier. The spacecraft that hit the plane he was a passenger in. Their attempts to save any survivors. He told Tom that there were only two who made it, a young girl who had been travelling with her parents and himself and that the one’s who saved them couldn’t leave them as witnesses, so they were taken. Bob stopped to let his old friend absorb this first round of information.

“Ok, if this is true, then you’d better tell me something only Bob would know. That might go some way to make me believe you.” Tom set a very stern look, trying to intimidate the younger man.

“How is Jenny?”

Tears sprang to old Tom’s eyes. The Bobby he knew from his youth was Jenny’s first love, Tom was there to pick up the pieces when news of the plane crash came through. Jenny was supposed to be with him, but she wouldn’t disobey her father, who forbade them travelling together unmarried.

“Bobby?” Tom stammered with a croaky voice. “Jenny is gone, she passed two years ago. My god, she would love this! She was always looking up for UFO’s. She reckoned if you didn’t see one, you weren’t looking hard enough. I don’t understand though, you’re still so young.”

“Yeah, time gets a little screwed up when you travel at the speeds necessary to get around the galaxy. I think I worked it out to about 10 years, maybe a little more for me. How old are you? You must be hitting 70.” Bob said, really looking at the sun cracked face and sagging eyes of the old farmer.

“Did you come alone in that thing? How do you know how to fly it? All tension had left Tom’s body, he felt only wonder as disbelief became acceptance.

“Well, this is only a small craft, used to visit worlds, it pretty much drives itself. I came down from a much larger one. It was a bit hard to sneak in, with all those satellites, but we were nearby, and I got permission to visit. While I’m surprised to find you here at the dam, I’m not surprised to find you on your farm. I knew you’d never leave here. What about Jenny?” Bob enquired.

“Jenny and I married mate. We had two children. My son Tom runs this place now, and a girl, Jenny named her Roberta, but everyone calls her Bobby. Ya Know, Jenny was devastated when she got the news about you. Don’t hate me for looking after her.” The pain in Tom’s eyes revealed everything to Bob.

“Tom, you know, I was always going to travel; I wasn’t tied to this town like you. When she said no to me, I told her I didn’t expect her to wait. I’m glad she chose you. It would seem you had a good life together.”

Tom nodded smiling, then asked, “Why were you nearby. What do you do up there, with whoever they are?” his phone buzzed. “That’s the young fella. He’s on his way up.” Tom showed Bob the text.

“I can’t stay. To answer your question, we just watch, mostly. Once a world becomes capable of certain things, we watch and wait. We try not to intervene. At some point a balance comes and the people realise their reason for being. It’s all about life and nature and maintaining a balance.”

“How are we doing?”

“Well, I’m still learning, but I think there’s a ways to go for you yet.” Bob was examining the lake as he spoke. “Do you still have fish in here?”

“Yeah, why?” Tom was following the direction of Bob’s gaze.

“I may have killed your fish. The energy source we use, draws from what is around it. It’ll thaw pretty quickly on take-off. I hope you have a big freezer.” Bob was smiling broadly now. “I should be gone before they show up. It makes me happy to know about you and Jenny.”

“Is it good up there?” Tom asked looking up to the sky.

“Yeah, it really is. I wish I could stay but we’re due to leave. I won’t see you again.” Bob got up and offered his hand to Tom. Tom took it and using the grip, dragged himself up and embraced his friend.

“Goodbye mate.”

From the end of the jetty,Tom watched his friend leave. He glanced down to see his knife sink out of sight as the ice melted. Bob was gone.