Second Hands

They had visited the old man Mr. Emit every Sunday afternoon for the last 4 months. Listening to his stories about his days with his brother in law on their first motor boat 'Stella', his wife Anne, or about the trouble he would stir up with his buddies 'in the good days'. It was their 17th Sunday with Mr. Emit and as he sat in the burgundy corduroy-like chair, he looked at the boy and girl with a different expression on his face. The man was nearing 94, he still had all of his hair, and wore slacks with a light button-up shirt every day.
'why don't you youngins take a seat?'
The boy and girl looked at each other in puzzle, as he had never greeted them in such a manner. Always obedient to him, they sat cross legged on the old carpet of his little Iowa home.
'i have something to tell you folks and all i can ask is that ya keep it to yourselves and not do a thing about it'
In unassured agreement, the couple nodded their heads for obligatory pleasing of Mr. Emit.
'you have been too good to me and you deserve to know this. i am leaving. i am leaving and i am leaving for good. there is nothing here for me anymore. my wife is gone 11 years, i am too old for the sea, and though i have enjoyed your weekly company- you can do me no good. i am sorry and i am leaving.'
Congruency in time and tone the two softly offered an, 'and where are you going?'
'away. i am going away. not to any specific place for i am not sure where this will lead me', Mr. Emit's voice started to veer off.
The two knew exactly where he was going and despite their nature, did not object.
'i know this isn't fair and i know this may seem fast but i have a favour to ask of you two. it's a rather long term favour that will be difficult'
The girl still staring in disbelief and the boy nodding with his usual sense of trying to please everyone.
'Stop keeping time' the leathered skin man pled.
the girl blurted, 'and how exactly do you expect us to do that?'
'just stop. stop looking at your wall clocks, stop waiting for something that may never come, just stop tracking the things that aren't meant to be watched'
the boy this time because the girl knew the answer, 'and how are we supposed to know the things that aren't supposed to 'be watched'?'
'you'll know because those are the things that you want', Mr. Emit replied with certainty.
'so if all the things we want aren't supposed to have a time on them, then when do we get them, when is the time for all these things?'
'you have it all wrong my boy, the time is always now- for now is all there ever is. you cannot wait, you musn't wait for those things that you want. those things will not always be here. you will not always be here'
*silence and steady gazes*
'what if we aren't ready for the things that we want?' the girl finally spoke again
'ah, my dear, if you wait until you are ready then you'll be waiting for the rest of your life'

Their goodbyes were long and their tears were many but the girl and boy took something away from Mr. Emit, or at least the girl did. As she sat at the bank of her stream she realized that the old man was talking about his heart. His heart had its time, his heart was now old, his heart had waited.