Starlights of An Autumn Sky

Phantom of A Memory

In the year 1943, Tolbin became, in his eyes, the most fortunate man to walk the Earth. This was the year he met the woman he viewed as an angel. He was a senior in high school, a charmer and an amazing athlete. He played for the school baseball team, the Brentboro high Flashers. Not their most premier player, but definitely second in line. He was a normal kid, and for all the popularity he possessed, he was a humble guy. Mild manner, well tempered and kind.
It was no wonder Maldena found herself fancying the likes of Tolbin, but it was a wonder, even a shocker to her to found that he shared a mutual feeling. Maldena was beautiful. She had a smile that would outshine the daylight and brighten a room almost incandescent. She had the heart of a lioness and a passion that burned hotter than the sun itself. She wasn't all that popular, but when it came to talent, she was revered around the school as the "voice of a thousand angels", a most esteemed named for someone as shy as she was. It took her some time to depart from such timid behavior, but when she was on a stage anywhere, you would never know that she was the personification of a person recognized as shy and closed off.
Tolbin and Maldena were very much in love, yet they had to hide these feelings from everyone. Not because of parents or school councilors or for the sake of privacy. But more so because of a safety concern for one or the other. You see, Tolbin was as stark white as the snow falls from the heavens, and Maldena was a negro. Whereas most people viewed her as an individual as they also were, there were some who draw their line at the gate instead of crossing it to see just how greener the grass was on the other side. Though there were some dangers, this did not stop them from displaying their pressing love for one another. "What? What are you staring at?" Maldena often found herself asking this question of Tolbin. Even though, every time, she knew the answer would be the same. "Nothing... just you." She didn't understand his fascination with his gaze stolen by the likes of herself.

"Perhaps, you haven't looked into a mirror lately, my dear, but the brilliance of your skin is like the calmness of the most crystal clear waters and your deep brown eyes, as vast as the depths of the starry heavens, and of course, your beautiful lips, as giving as the sweetest blossom nectar. And I-"

"Oh stop it, Tolbin. I am not that great. In comparison to some picture stars, I am lesser than average."

"And yet, for you, I would strive and even toil in grief, if only for a brief second, I could steal your attention long enough to show you the capacity in which I long for you."
Tolbin had reckoned himself a poet, a modern day Allen Poe, if you will. But as suave as he was, he remained a troubled and even worrisome character. From his upbringing to his current behavior, his reputation could have been threaten if the publicity of his mental were put on display. In those times, depression was more of an expression use to describe an action, and anyone who was depressed was view as weak minded or more along the lines of a drunk beggar looking for comfort. Although, he had many troubles, Tolbin kept it all under control, and when he was with Maldena, it was as if he never suffered at all. He felt that he needed her just to survive, and perhaps he did. So the tragedy that fell before them both was more so earth shattering than heartbreaking. The only thought that kept him sane was the memory of he and her dancing to Sam Cooke's "Nothing Can Change This Love" in the wheat field they would often meet at, and perhaps even the words of some random Jehovah's Witness that spoke briefly of loved ones living again. He was not a religious man, but maybe that is a hope he will cling to, because a hope is one thing he could really use in his sad, little life.

"Let's see, do I want jam or apple butter? I've got a taste for both, so maybe we'll see how they taste together."
Edmund Riker. A strange and, almost repulsive man. Willing to do, say or even... perform anything, all for the sake of a thrill. Many times he and Tolbin brushed shoulders. You see Edmund was a postal worker, so he visited Tolbin's home every single day. He was a man that could be compared to Tolbin in terms of physical size, maybe a little taller. But there is one thing that was very obvious to describe them both; angry. One angry because of his loss, the other angry because of his inadequacy to gain. Both foolish in respectable rights, and yet one, you sympathize with. How very strange.

"Edmund, keep your filthy feet off of my grass! The very next time, and I mean the absolutely very next time I see even the disgusting hair off of your big toe touch so much as a blade of my grass, I'm calling the authorities and having you placed in solitary confinement!"

"Oh Tolbin, how long will you go on being a silly fool? As insufferable as you are, I couldn't imagine that you go a single day without being told to shut up! Make yourself useful and pass on already, you reprehensible circus monkey."

This is a typical day in the lives of both these gentlemen. Or should I just say men. Imagine living a life so full of nothingness, that the only highlight of your day is to have a never ending feud with your local postal services worker. And yet, this was all that Tolbin had. This was all he now knew.