WHERE'S OLIVER?

By Richard E. Noble

"Where's Oliver? ...
Have you seen Oliver? ...
Where's Oliver? ..."

"She can't find Oliver."

"I know.
It's sad, isn't it?
It seems like she and Oliver were married forever."

"Where's Oliver? ...
Has anyone seen Oliver? ...
Where's Oliver?..."

"Somebody ought to tell her ...
Not to be mean ...
Just in a way that she will understand."

"Where's Oliver?
Where is that man?
Where's Oliver?"

"Honey? ... Come over here and sit-down.
Yes, right here at this picnic table.
Oliver died sweetheart.
You know that don't you?
You remember? We had that big funeral?"

"Oliver died?"

"That's right sweetie. You remember now, don't you?"

"Oliver died?"

"Yes ... Over a year ago ...
You remember? ... Remember we had that big funeral?"

The old woman paused, thoughtfully.
She stared off vacantly into the cherry orchard.
She turned and looked into her questioner's eyes.
Her eyes were momentarily thoughtful.
Then slightly tearful.
Then suddenly wide and frightened.

"Wh...whe...Where's Oliver?" she asked.

"I don't know sweetie.
Maybe you had best look for him."

The old woman smiled.
"You know, I can never find that man when I want him.
I think I'll keep looking."

"Yes, maybe you'd better.

She rose from the table, then slowly shuffled her bedroom
slippers over the lawn towards their old farm house.

"Where's Oliver?" she cried out, warmly.
"Where's Oliver? ...
Has anyone seen my Oliver?
Ohhh ...where's Oliver?"