Yesterday, Maureen went to lunch with several of her close friends who once were known as the “Seven Sisters.” The numbers have diminished slightly but the feeling is still the same. It was a long lunch.

i had a number of errands to run and items to get done at home. i was glad to have the time. But as i went out on my first errand, i got a whim. i decided it was justified as it satisfied one item on my check list: a walk. Several of my phalanx of doctors have noted one of the reasons my old man’s back problems are mollified is walking a lot. They encouraged me to do more.

i normally walk over three miles on a route i began as a run. Then, it was a poor replacement for my runs during my last Navy tour when, at lunch, i would run across the street from the Naval Amphibious School, cut through some ugly condo towers and hit the beach for just over a six mile run. i did that run nearly every week day for three and a half years. But my run at home had some steep hills and my age was beginning to show. Then the docs told me i should stop running and walk: brittle old running bones. So now i walk, and walking on surface streets can be a bit boring.

So, this morning, i decided to get away from it all. i drove to Balboa Park, walked through the Prado down to the Organ Pavilion and entered the Japanese Friendship Garden.

i showed my park pass and entered into another land. The Garden, originally the Japanese Tea House, was established in 1915 for the San Diego’s Panama-Pacific Exposition. It was reborn in the 1990’s as is a tribute to San Diego and its relationship with her sister city Yokohama. There are roughly two miles of walking paths through the twelve acres of the garden.

What a garden. It is like walking into a temple honoring nature and contemplation. In the middle of a weekday morning, the visitors are sparse, like having it to myself. The garden reflects Japanese tradition of gardens going back hundreds of years. There are out loops that take me to a place to just sit and relax, perhaps to ponder, perhaps to not think at all but just be a peace for a moment.

There’s an exhibit hall that makes me feel like i just walked into a Japanese home with a wall to wall window looking out on a manicured sculpted gravel garden. A bench inside allows one to sit and contemplate. The path winds gently down to the bottom of the canyon folded around a stream that gurgles calmness as it flows.

Of course, there are koi ponds. In the spring, the 200 cherry trees will be blooming in their grove. We will go there then.

When Maureen returned from her lunch and i from my whim, we vowed to make it a regular thing. Peace and contemplation are not a bad habit to pursue, even on a whim.

Caleb Lucas watched the group quietly but with interest sitting in the back corner of the room.

Earlier while they dined, he had told stories and laughed with them. Then, several of the guys, his sons and sons-in-law told their stories, and the women, his daughters and daughters-in-law joined the story telling.

He realized his stories were dated and held little interest for the rest of the group. He didn’t want to detract from the gathering.

It was an annual celebration for which he looked forward every year. Both of his wives had died young. This was a get together to celebrate the mothers’ lives. They held the dinner each year at the first of summer in the home where they all grew up. Caleb still lived in the five-bedroom sprawling farmhouse on the outskirts of New Palestine.

As he became silent, he studied the group. He loved them all.

But he noticed how things had changed. He had dressed for the occasion. He was in his dress shirt and trousers with nice leather dress shoes. In place of the tie he had worn on many of these occasions, he wore a sports jacket. As he had realized with the conversation, he found dressing up for such occasions was no longer a requirement.

The women wore pants and nice blouses except for one, his daughter, who wore a tee shirt. There were no dresses or skirts.

The men wore jeans and sneakers with no socks. If they weren’t in colored tee-shirts with logos, they wore casual shirts that were not tucked in. Two had on baseball caps worn with the bill backwards and the adjustment straps across their foreheads.

He did not fault them. This type of dress had become the style of the day. Men, even old folks (except him) never wore ties to church. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a woman in a skirt.

The conversation was filled with laughter. The group talked of recently watched movies and their favorite actors and actresses. Caleb did not recognize any of the names. He had not been to a movie theater in years and had quit watching them on the television except for some his old favorites.

The discussion turned to music. Again, Caleb did not recognize the songs, singers, or groups. He had been a disc jockey on a local station while going to college and been known as an expert for naming songs, artists, and even labels but that had been a long time ago. It was still the music to which he listened.

Someone brought up a new book and the conversation took a new turn with the same result: Caleb did not recognize any of the titles or authors. He was reading and rereading his library of older classics.

Caleb realized he was pleased that the cell phones stayed out of use during the dinner. He had one and used it but wished he could just toss it.

As his family continued to celebrate, Caleb sat in the corner contemplating how he was pretty out of the picture, outdated, a dinosaur. As the lively conversation continued, Caleb turned his view to the photos of his two wives in photos on the mantle. They had been wonderful to him. He still hurt from losing both of them.

He nodded silently as if he had reached a decision.

The party went on for about another hour. The family individually hugged Caleb as they departed. Joshua, Caleb’ oldest son remarked as the siblings walked to their cars, “You know, I don’t think I can remember him being that emotional since his wives passed away,”

Around ten the next morning, Caleb’s youngest son Jared stopped by to help clean up after the party. The door was unlocked.

He entered and called for Caleb. There was no answer. Jared went to the master bedroom. Caleb was not there. The bed was made. The dining room and kitchen was spotless after Caleb cleaned up from the evening. Everything was in order, the way Caleb always left it in the mornings after breakfast. Jared went through the rest of the house. No one was anywhere to be found, even in outbuildings. The entire house was spotless.

Jared walked outside to the garage. Caleb’s pickup was there.

Jared called his wife, then his brothers and sisters. No one had heard anything from Caleb. Nothing. They called the authorities and reported a missing person.

Caleb’s children and in-laws returned to the family home and searched throughout and wandered all over the 120 acres with no luck. His youngest daughter, Helen, noticed the frame that held the photo of her mother and Caleb’s other wife were lying flat on the mantle. The pictures were gone.

The police looked for signs of him at the bus station, the taxi companies, Uber, and Lyft.

The family went to the one room cabin on the lake. No one had been there and Caleb’s fishing boat was in the dock. The authorities searched the lake and the brush around it but found nothing.

The sons, daughters, and in-laws gathered at his house again and went through the evening events to see if they might find some clue as to what happened. Joshua remarked that when he got home that previous evening, he had noted a cool, heavy wind blowing off the lake, but didn’t think there was a connection, just an odd event.

No one ever heard from Caleb again.

the fire lies gently on the embers
twilight has yielded to the softness of the dark
he sits with the light of the fire
in his father’s rocking chair
he will rise before sunrise
there will be a sharpness in the cold snap
that comes with daybreak
the hay fields laid low
will shine with the light frost
as he puts each foot forward
heading for the barn
he looks at the steel blue sky
it will be a harsh winter.