Moments in Time - 3. Farmer's Market Redux

The old wooden ladder creaked under Todd’s weight as he grabbed the Nike shoe box from the top shelf of his closet. He cradled the box in his arms as he walked to the small bed in his childhood bedroom. Sitting on the faded Syracuse University Orange comforter, Todd brushed the dust off the lid.

“I know there is something old in here from that farmer's market where I first met Jim and Martin. Hopefully it's something that can be used in their wedding. I'm so glad they can legally marry now.” Musing aloud, Todd took the top off the box uncovering treasures from his childhood.

A small stack of photographs lay on the top. Mike and I hugging at the gay prom, with our matching rainbow vests. The gang singing on a hay ride, all of us in purple shirts. Celebrating Jim’s birthday at the LGBT center. Photos of other happy times from high school. Todd needed something more than pictures right now, so he laid them on the bed.

He picked up some pennants, mementos of many gay pride parades. While old, the small, colorful flags weren't exactly what he wanted either. They joined the photographs on the pile on the bed.

The next item down was a brochure from Miller's Crossing Farmer's Market. Colorful pumpkins, grapes, apples, sweet corn and hay rides on the front enticed people to visit. The glossy pictures felt smooth beneath his thumb.

“That's the place, but a brochure just won't work for a wedding.” As he picked up the brochure to add it to the pile on the bed, something fell in his lap. He picked up the two small wreaths woven from corn husks. “Ah, how perfect. Not only from the market where I met Jim, but we first talked about the sweet corn.”

He fingered the wreaths, the dried husks crackling slightly in his grip, and remembered meeting Jim when he was 16:

Why can't I go to the pool? I could be watching hot guys! Instead Mom drags me to this lame farmer's market. I hate this place. He randomly grabbed ears from the large bin of silver queen sweet corn and shoved them into the green carry bag. Sparrows twittering above echoed through the rafters of the old barn. I hope those birds don't crap on my head. It stinks in here!

“You don't want that ear,” a deep voice rumbled next to him.

“Huh?” He looked up at a tall, dark haired guy. “Why not?”

“There's a worm in that ear.” The guy pointed to a small, round hole with yellowed edges on the grey-green corn husk. “You can see that the worm entered there.” He picked up another ear.

“This one looks good, because it’s nice and fat, but there's a lot of pale silk on the end. That means it isn’t fully ripe. If you peel back the husks like this, you can see the immature kernels on the end.” The man shucked the ear and showed the teenager the tiny white kernels at the end.

Todd watched for a moment, then dumped the carry bag into the bin of corn. He carefully selected an ear with a little darker silk. He opened the husk as the man had showed him, and didn’t see many tiny kernels. He rolled the ear in his hands looking for the little holes in the husk. “This one looks good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, that's a good ear. Think you can handle it, son?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He grabbed another ear and carefully examined it.

The man clapped Todd on the shoulder and strode towards the table with honeydew and cantaloupes. The straw beneath his feet crackled as the man walked. Todd watched as he picked up a cantaloupe and smelled it, and set it down. The man picked up another melon, smelled it again and this time smiled. Why did he smell the melon? That’s just weird.

“Todd, what did that man want?” His mother interrupted his thoughts. She stood beside him, watching the stranger suspiciously.

“He was showing me how to choose good ears of corn, Mom.” Todd placed another good ear in his carry bag.

“Did you thank him for the help?” she asked.

“No, he walked away before I could.” He watched the man who helped him as a shorter man walked up with a quart basket full of red berries.

“Jim, look at these strawberries. They smell so divine!” He practically shoved the basket under the nose of the taller man. The sweet scent of ripe strawberries drifted towards Todd and his mother.

“Yes, they do Martin. I think some strawberries with this cantaloupe would make a great dessert tonight.” Jim put his arm around Martin’s waist and kissed the top of his head.

From the corner of his eye, Todd saw his mom stiffen just before she grabbed his arm. As she yanked him away from the corn, she muttered, “THOSE PEOPLE shouldn’t act that way in public.”

Todd winced as they walked past the long colorful rows of tomatoes - green, yellow and red. How will she react when she finds out I’m one of those people?

Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! The church bell chiming 4 o’clock brought Todd out of his reminiscences.

“She didn’t react well, that’s for sure. Jim thinks she’ll come around eventually. I don’t know.” He rubbed his ear as it twinged in memory of his mother's shrill screams.

Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, Todd called his friend.

"Hello?"

"Hey Martin, this is Todd. Have you found anything for the “something old” yet?"

"We have some ideas, but nothing seems right," Martin sighed.

"I found a couple of those mini corn husk wreaths that tour groups made at Miller's Crossing, the market where I first saw you and Jim. I think the florist could use them to make your boutonnières."

"I remember those. Miller's Crossing always had you make wreaths while the other farmer’s markets made dolls. They would be perfect!" Martin replied.

"Then I'll take them to the florist." Todd pocketed the wreaths.

"Thank you so much. Don't be late to the rehearsal tonight. I need my best man there."

"Nothing will keep me away. See you there."

Todd picked up the pile from his bed. He took one last look at the brochure before putting it to the memory box. He carefully returned the box to the closet shelf.

"Pictures are nice, but memories are better...."