Buffalo Girl
The cool wind bristled through the budding trees. Soft sobs from a mourning crowd muffled the birds chorus'- seasonal promises of new beginnings.
Nearly everyone in Bedford falls was there, but that was expected. The Bailey's had always given everyone so much the whole town felt as if they had lost a piece of themselves.
And although they all felt loss, none felt is as deeply as George Bailey.
Always ready to provide help, offer a solution, solve a problem, but this time, was different. This was something that couldn't be fixed. It was something that couldn't be changed. It was something that had to be accepted.
One by one, his neighbours, friends and family gave their condolences, leaving George to his thoughts. Though he tried, he couldn't get his feet to move from their place. Knowing, as soon as he did, he had to live the rest of his days in his new reality- one without his beloved Mary.
A hand clasping his back started sobs flowing uncontrollably, his children's embraces stopped him from collapsing. Only once before had he felt such anguish - many years ago on Christmas Eve, gripping the rail of the bridge contemplating his life.
"Mary." Whispering mournfully. What will we do without her?" Looking at his two beautiful daughters, who resembled Mary so greatly in appearance and mannerism, reminding George of earlier days of life. Toting kids on their hips, while doing as much as they could in the businesses and community, smiles on their faces all the while.
Hugging his dad again, Pete said, "You know she's in a better place, and no longer in pain."
"I know Pete, I know." Wiping his tears.
Tommy reached into his pocket and handed his dad an envelope. Looking at his father, he noticed a strange concoction of age and youth. Creased lines and grey hair, a slowing body, but his eyes - holding the love of his youth, they sustained him in time. He hoped to have that look one day.
"You know mom, she always did have the answers." Said Zuzu. Laughing softly, contemplating the impact and love of the woman they laid to rest.
"We're going to be at the boarding house Pops, when you're ready. I know people want to give you their respects." He said quietly.
"I'll come now.." George began to say,
"When you're ready, Daddy, no one is rushing you. Uncle Marty has taken care of everything." Said Jeanie
This is a time you should actually think about yourself." Pete gave his dad one more hug and George watched the four of them walking away, grateful they all remained friends in their adult years .
Walking over to a bench he opened the envelope. Tickets fell out. Train tickets, plane tickets and ship tickets, and a letter, His eyes filling with tears, clutching the letter to his chest, the one last bit of Mary left behind. His fresh tears smeared the ink on the parchment, joining Mary's dried ones.
My Dearest George,
These last days I was able to remain on this earth, with you and our children and our grandbabies. I am so, so grateful for. I heard you talking to Zuzu, on one of my bad days, wishing away my pain. Don't you ever doubt that my last days weren't worth it.
Rest assured, my darling, that the joy, and the peace during those days was so much greater than any pain. I was collecting all the moments, all of the words all of the silence of my loved ones.
You spent your whole life sacrificing for others. My dreams came true through you, now I want your dreams to come true.
Do you want to know what the best sound in the world is? Anchor chains, plane motors & train whistles
Go George. Go and see the world that you have waited so patiently to see. Go and see the buildings and the sky scrapers and bridges. Be inspired. Eat your coconut!
Go shoot the works! A whole week in New York. A whole week in Bermuda. The highest hotels - the oldest champagne - the richest caviar - the hottest music. And the prettiest wife, well she'll be watching you from a far, but, if you listen closely you'll hear her in your heart.
I want you to breath in the air from all around the world. I want you to walk the beaches of the coasts. I want you to go to a place you have never thought of going, and all the ones you did. Don't leave one rock unturned. Its all in order. I have purchased the tickets to get you on your way.
Its' your turn, now George. I only wish you didn't have to wait so long. But know, that in your waiting you have done so much good. You have made the world a better place. And that sure is something. I am so happy that I was able to spend my life at your side.
I told you that I'd love you until the day I die.
Go now, see the world, live your dreams. Clarence and I will be watching.
Until we meet again,
Your Buffalo Girl
George read Mary's letter over and over. He very much so wanted to stay in this moment so he didn't have to move on, but there were two more stops he wanted to make before he headed to the reception so, reluctantly George headed on his way.
Standing over the first grave stone, he smiled, "Well Mr. Gower, You've probably already heard, but I think that old suitcase might actually get used. I really do think I won a million dollars, it was camouflaged as Mary Hatch. Take care of her for me, will ya."
A few minutes later he came to two more stones. "Ma, Pop." He brought his fist to his mouth, closing his eyes trying to control the tears.
"Thank you. I don't know if I told you enough - what you've given me. Thank you for that old Building and Loan. Thank you for cooping me up in that shabby little office. It was there that I learned to live. You had a talent, pop, a wisdom, that I could never have learned in college or travelling. Never. And ma - well you always knew me better than myself- if it weren't for you, I'd never have gone to see Mary that night. And well…she really was someone that had answers, she really was."
"Thank you Mr. Gower." George said, brushing his thumb over his engraved name, clicking his suitcase shut.
Buffalo Girl playing softly in the background, George sat down on the bed. The old picture of him lassoing the moon in catching his eye, "If only I was still so full of confidence that I thought I could lasso the moon."
The horn of a taxi rose from the street.
"Well, I better get going. You'll be coming with me, right Mary?" George, headed down the stairs, wiggling the top knob on the banister with a smile. The phone started ringing, pausing, an old familiar feeling came over him.
"George let's not stop, let's go." The sound of Mary's youthful, vibrant voice filled his memory, "OK, Mary, we'll go. This time, we'll go." with a deep breath he opened the door - the ringing phone disappearing behind him.
My Big Brother George
"Hey, George!" Ernie said opening the trunk. "Where am I taking you today?"
"To the train station" Ernie grab his suitcase putting it in the back of the taxi.
"The train station, where are you off to?"
"I'm going to start at New York, and then from there, well, who knows."
"Shooting the works? Who would have thought! You're finally going. Good for you!" Ernie said,
"It was Mary." George said. "She put it together with the kids before she passed."
"Mary." Ernie smiled, climbing into the cab. "What a girl she was. You're a lucky man George, to have a wife like that."
"I know, Ern, I know." George said, "Bedford falls will miss you. But its in good hands George, that boy you have. He is quite something."
"Yah, Pete has the heart of his grandfather and the passion of his mother." George laughed. "I practically had to drag him off to college to get him out of here."
"And it did him and Bedford falls a load of good. He has ensured the maintenance of all the old buildings, and brought in the new businesses. Whoever donated that money would be proud. I sure am to call Bedford Falls home.
"There aren't many like it left, that's for sure." George nodded.
The tourists love it, and boy does you Janie ever have the touch with them. She's like the mother hen of tourists, just scoops them up in that old Ma Bailey Boarding house and treats them like her own." beep beep "Hey Bert! Guess where I'm going?" Ernie hung out the window.
Bert pulled up next to Ernie
"Taking George to the train station - he's finally going!"
"What do you say!" Getting out of his car, Bert gave George a hearty handshake. "Good for you Georgie - Good for you! You'll have to get some more posters to put on the wall of that old house of yours! Hey! We should go for a send off drink- do you have time? Martini would love to send you off."
"I suppose we could go for a quick one." George agreed.
"Well, look what the cat drug in!" The bells on the door rang, "To what do I owe such an unexpected pleasure?"
"We're here to celebrate!" Said Ernie, "George is going see the world! Just like he always planned to do Mary arranged everything for him to go traveling."
"You don't say! What a girl! A round on the house then!"
Martini brought over four drinks, the old bar filled with laughter of memories decades old.
"What a night that was. I'll never forget it - when Mr. Welch punched you right in the kisser." Martini said, shaking his head.
Nodding slowly, George took a drink," Unsure where the conversation was going, people seldom brought up that night.
"That was something." Said Martini, "But you know what was always more impressive to me? Was how you never lost that…that…that joy, that happiness that filled your house that night. How did you keep it? How did you hold onto it? Even after all these years?" Martini asked.
"An old friend once said to me, "Each man's life touches so many other lives." I began believing that, living it. Whenever I began to feel the way I felt that night - when the hopelessness, the discontentment, the discouragement crept in, I would think of that old friend, and who I would be leaving.
And then I thought, about what my father used to say, "All you can take with you is that which you've given away." - and I would think about all the people who's life I could touch to make them better. True contentment can only come from serving others from giving yourself a away.
It wasn't always easy, sometimes I had to fight for it. I became a warrior. A warrior for contentment, and then every once in a while, happiness would visit, and sometimes sadness, but always contentment."
"To contentment" Martini raised his glass.
"To Contentment" the three echoed - clinking their glasses, easing into a comfortable, contemplative silence..
"And how's Harry? Did he stay long after the funeral?" Asked Bert, breaking the silence.
"He's good, doing well. Wife and kids are good."
"And the business?" Earnie said cautiously.
"It's holding on." George nodded. "Definitely has some problems right now, which is of course stressful on the family, but, he'll hold on."
The three exchanged looks.
"What?"
"We saw him at the funeral, something's not right." Said Bert.
"Well, I did try to call him to tell him I was leaving, but, I couldn't get a hold of him." Said George. "Well even if something is wrong, he's strong, he'll…."
"He isn't you George." Martini added.
"He doesn't have the grit, the perseverance to make it through." Said Ernie.
"Doesn't have the grit?" Said George, "What do you mean doesn't have the grit? Why he's a decorated war hero, and an education football star!"
"He's nothing with you!" Said Bert.
"Now, that's just not true," objected George. "Look, he, he, got married without us.."
"Yah, I've always wondered that. Why would he have gotten married without you or his Ma with him? Why didn't he introduce you first? And then knowing he wasn't going to come back to the Building and Loan, and not say anything?" Bert put his hands up, "Look, thats not to say its any of our business, but what I am saying is that something was off."
"He himself, you were the richest man alive, on that night. So he recognized it too. When you get in a pinch call George- he knows!" Said Ernie.
Still not convinced, Martini said, "He almost died, you saved him!"
"You paid for his school, with money that you worked hard to earn." Said Bert.
"Where he met his wife, and got his job." Said Ernie,
"Why, your cousin Tilly, told me when he called you when he won the award, he even reversed the phone charges!" Added Bert.
"Well, whats wrong with all of that?" Asked George.
"Nothing, nothing at all, but what all that says, what Harry's life ultimately says is, "I need my big brother." Said Martini.
George thought back to the unanswered ringing phone. "Can I use your phone?"
"Sure, sure George go right ahead."
"Hello, Harry? Harry its George. "I'm ok, yes, everything is fine. I just wanted to tell you that Mary she's….George paused. Bert, Ernie and Martini watched as that old familiar look came across George's face - compassion, empathy, sympathy, and they waited.
George took a deep breath, closing his fist against the wall, resting his head on it."….I'm really sorry to hear that Harry. Really sorry." George paused again. "I wish…I wish there was something I could do. I , But, Mary, she put together a trip for me, before she died, and I think I should…I need to go. I'm leaving today. I wish I could stay to help you, but I promise I'll call you along the way. How long? I'm not sure, a few months, at least. But the kids, they will be looking after the house, so if you need a place to stay for a while, just call one of them….OK, I love you Harry, and I'll be thinking about you. You take care now. It will all work out. I'll talk to you soon."
A breath of relief rippled over the table.
"Well, best get going then." George said shaking hands and clasping backs with his old friends.
TRAIN WHISTLES
The train whistle filled the air. A strange sensation puffed through George- he was the traveller today. The one leaving, the one going on an adventure.
"Hey Georgie Porgie" A familiar voice coming to his ears.
"Hello Violet." George said, exchanging a hug.
"Where are you off to today " brushing off his suit jacket.
"I'm going on a trip. Mary, she put it together for me, before she passed, so - I'm leaving today.
A warm smile crossed Violet's face. "Good for you George. No send off party though?" Violet asked.
"No…I…figured…"
"I understand." Violet smiled, nodding "Mary a heart of gold that girl. Tenacious and smart too. You made a good choice in her."
"Yes, she really was. She really was. How's your gang doing?"
"They're great, never thought I would settle down, but when you and Sam brought in all that new work - well - there was bound to be someone who could domestic me. As much as I could be domesticated anyways!
"How's business?" George asked
"Oh, its booming. Doing really great. I'm just picking up another order for the store, all the way from Paris." Pointing to a train cart where her boxes were being unloaded into a truck.
"No one could bring better style into this one horse town, that's for sure." Smiled George.
Violet looked at him, "Hey, wait a minute would you George?" Slipping over to the cart, she ruffled through a few boxes, and handed George a new suit, hat, shoes and belt.
"Oh, I couldn't Violet," George shook his head, handing the attire back.
"I wont take no for an answer!" Violet said. "Why, if it weren't for you," her eyes filling with tears. "Well, we don't need to talk about who I'd be without you. Now you take this, and go on some nice fancy dinners, and smooze with the best of them will ya?" She winked, kissing him on the cheek.
"Thank you, Violet." George said.
"ALL ABOARD!" The conductor called.
"You better get going," Exchanging one more hug. Violet watched as George got in line for the train, "Hey, George, " she called, "thank you, for always believing in me."
Watching the Bedford falls sign disappearing from his view, George sat bewildered with unidentifiable feelings. It was indescribable finally doing something he had dreamt about for so long.
"Excuse me! EXCUSE ME!"
"Pardon me? Sorry, thats my bad ear." George looked up to a plump lady, dressed in black fur, with a scowl of impatience across her face.
I said, you're in my seat.
"Oh! Well! Sorry about that!" George got up and shuffled to the seat across where he was sitting.
"What happened?"
"What's that?" George said.
"To your ear?"
"Oh, my brother fell into a pond, when we were…"
"Disgusting isn't it?" The lady interrupted, completely ignoring George. "All those factories clogging up the landscape."
Looking at the smoke stacks pass by, warmth, instead of disgust filled him.
"Those factories, do clog up the open landscape, yes," George agreed.
"See, I'm so glad you agree with me." The lady began.
"But" George held his hands up slowing her, "If you look past the ugliness, they also give people a purpose, a home, food on the table. And a world filled with people without a purpose, well I'd take that over ugly any day."
"Pish-posh! The only people who say things like that, are the ones making money - so you must have made lots of money off of them.
"Well, a bit, to be honest. I live a few towns back, and my friend - Sam Wainwright, he started a plastics company in an old abandoned factory- but it brought a lot of work to the town. He came, and then another, and another. We were able to build new businesses, and people moved into town. The schools got better, the shopping. It was really swell. Especially for the people who had worked to get ahead for so long."
"Swell," she raised her eyebrows at him. "and I suppose that you were a participant then, in building all of those things?"
"Well, yes," George said. "My entire family actually. I always had a passion for building things, and it was quite a blessing to have the new opportunities come to me, and my children - they just had such talent in business, economics, relating to people, I have never had prouder moments than watching my children do what they were meant to do."
"And were you involved in the startup of these companies? Or did you gather that from the hardworking townsfolk, promising them greatness, only to have them work there?"
George smiled at the miserable old thing, wondering what had happened to her that made her so pessimistic and miserable. "No, we actually received a large sum of money donated in trust to the company my father started, the Building and Loan, indeed for the use to prosper our town. From there, we started a community advisory committee, and we put that money to good use. We restored and maintained the town, and brought in new jobs. Many people who were living on tight budgets, were able to raise their standard of living. And then that went back into the economy, and so on."
"Well, isn't that nice that you live in the perfect little town where perfect things happen.
"Now, I never said that," said George, as politely as he could to the brisk woman, "We have a town full of hardworking people who take pride in every avenue of their lives. And that's created a sense of value, a sense of worth, a purpose. A home. Which, for us has come from some of those factories.
She raised her eye at him. "Well, to be born in such a place, must have been wonderful. Not everyone is so fortunate. To have parents like you leaving a successful business, and being part of a community like that"
"Well, yes, you're right, not everyone is fortunate enough to grow up in a town like Bedford Falls. We can agree on that."
"No, they're not." In that moment, George had a flicker of understanding what that feeling was when he left. Homesickness? Impossible! He laughed to himself, "for Bedford Falls? Already? What do you think of that, Mary?"
"What was that? The lady said
"Nothing." Said George, returning to his window so he could appreciate his view.
Airplane Motors
Get out of my way - doesn't anyone have respect for the elderly anymore?" Quickly closing his over head carriage George took his seat.
"Could you imagine- having to deal with the likes of him?" Grumbled a middle aged man next to him.
"I can, actually." George smiling as the young woman and man who were trying their best to fix the old mans problem.
"Worst thing is, there ain't no changing someone as old as him." The man said.
Watching the commotion, George's memory drifted in time.
"George! George! Come see! Its pandemonium across the street!
Coming through his office, George joined his Uncle Billy and cousin Tilly at the window.
Afresh with the new year, new promises and new hopes. Thanks to Mary, his friends and family had come and saved him from grave trouble replacing the money that Uncle Billy lost, he had a new outlook on life.
"Why- what are they doing over there at Old Man Potter's?" George asked.
"They're arresting him! They're arresting him!" Yelled cousin Tilly bursting through the front doors.
Turning back to the window, they watched a half dozen police, pushing Potter's wheel chair out of the bank while trying to control the boisterous, loud crowd.
When the police shut the car door, applause broke out up and down the street.
"Why it's a Christmas Miracle! A Christmas Miracle!" Uncle Billy cried, "Life's finally caught up to him!"
"What could he have done?" Asked George.
"Who cares! Uncle Billy danced! He's gone! He's outta here! We need to celebrate! We need to Celebrate!" He said, running back to his office.
"Where are you going?" Uncle billy held a bottle of scotch and two glasses in his hands.
"I'm going to see what has happened." Said George grabbing his hat and coat.
"Bah! Leave the old bugger! You know he's had it coming."
Ignoring him, George ran out of the Building and Loan, across the road
"Did you hear?"
"What a scandal! All that money in the world, and he's arrested for stealing!"
"Why, I bet he's been stealing all along!"
"Did you see George did you see? Old Man Potter has been taken away - stealing money! He did!"
"Money?" George said confused. "What money?"
"Who cares! He's gone, he's gone." Pushing through the crowd George entered into Potters office.
"What's happened?" George demanded.
"He stole the money George, the eight thousand dollars- your eight thousand dollars. The tellers, they put it together. That your money went missing and then all of the sudden he deposited that same amount. Can you imagine? Making such a careless mistake after all these years? Why, its almost as if he WANTED to get caught!"
"I don't….I don't understand." Running his hand through his hair.
"Your Uncle Billy- he put the money in the paper and then handed the paper to Potter, and Potter had me roll him into the office- I thought something was up, but I never put it together. It's quite something." Said Potter's assistant.
"So what are they going to do?" Asked George.
"Why do you care? You said so yourself he's a warped frustrated old man."
"It's not right, wheeling off an old man like that- humiliating him like that. He may be a criminal yes, rude, mean, cold hearted- but, but he's still a human. And that's gotta count for something."
"What are they going to do to him?" George thought aloud.
Admiring him in the moonlight, Mary reached over and stroked his head, "Mr. Potter stole your money, almost drove you to end your life and here you are worried about him while the whole town's out celebrating."
"Its just, I know it doesn't make any sense, and justice should be done, but, what good will it be if he just comes out worse. He's a miserable old man, with a sick demented old soul - his deals have been shady, maybe, maybe he is getting what he deserves. Its just, how do we help someone who's greatest enemy is themselves?"
"I don't know the answers to those questions, George. But, I know someone who does."
"What are you doing here? Coming to gloat are you?" Mr Potter sat staring out a loan window in a cold cement walled room.
"No, Mr Potter. I'm not."
"Well you read the papers didn't you? Hot off the press- Potter Convicted Felon. I suppose the whole towns celebrating! What will they say about you now? Coming around the likes of me?"
"I don't care what they say, Mr. Potter. I just wanted to make sure you're ok."
"That I'm ok?" Mr. Potter spat. "Why? What's it to you?"
"What's it to me? You're a human being aren't you? Good, bad or indifferent? And every human being should have someone to make sure they're ok."
"I've lived most of my life without someone around me, I'm not going to start now! You've got your money back and then some now justice was served. I'm locked up, no longer competition. You should be happy! Not coming around here to bothering me! Now leave me alone!"
George nodded and turned to walk away. "I just figured since it was my money that you stole, that you would tell me what happen? I didn't ask during the trial because, well, I thought you were humiliated enough."
"You worry about your feelings and I'll worry about mine!" Yelled Mr. Potter. "I don't need you coming in here, or out there, or anywhere for that matter, trying to compensate for me! I refuse to become a miserable little clerk crawling around on my hands and knees for help. I have enough money to get the best lawyers - you wait and see, I will be set free- and those tellers who called me in - they will pay!"
George stopped in the doorway. "Ok, Mr. Potter. Ok. I didn't come in here looking for a fight, just an explanation, and then I thought maybe…"
"Maybe what? And apology?"
"No," George shook his head, "I don't need an apology either, I just thought perhaps you'd like a friend. I can't imagine what it would be like to be up here all alone."
Mr. Potter didn't reply.
"Back again, are you?"
"Mr. Potter, the nurses say you're not eating, not talking."
"What do you care? Just means I'll be leaving this earth all the sooner." Mr. Potter grunted at George. "What did they call you for anyway?"
"Because I'm the only one who has ever come to see you"
Mr. Potter only grunted in response.
"I heard, some more of your businesses were sold." George said sitting in a chair.
"To you're pleasure I'm sure." Spat Mr. Potter.
"No, its not. I can't imagine what it must be like to watch what you worked so hard for dismantle itself one by one."
"You wouldn't know anything about it." Snapped Mr. Potter. "Why you and your father and that run down Building and Loan wouldn't know the first thing about,…about.."Mr. Potter started coughing, George went over and pat his back and got him a glass of water.
"Why do you keep coming back here?" Mr. Potter asked. "Just leave me to my last days and get on with things."
"I wish I could do that, Mr. Potter. I truly wish I could, its just, it ails me, somewhere deep inside to know that your off in some room rotting away like a forgotten criminal."
"Thats what I am!" Harped Mr. Potter.
"You may have been convicted of a crime, and a criminal at that, but you're not forgotten. Not by me, anyway."
Mr. Potter turned his head staring out the window.
Standing silently in the doorway, George sensed a sudden urge to ask one more question."Mr. Potter- what was your childhood like?"
Mr Potter gave George a look like he had never seen before in his lifetime. The genuine kindness of George's words demolished a lifetime of walls that Mr. Potter built around himself. In a moment, five words bound up a lifetime of pain and melted away icicles on an old miserable heart.
"Why would you ask that?" His voice a softer more broken.
"I just realized I've known you almost my entire life but don't know much anything about you."
Mr. Potter looked at him surrendering to Georges sincerity "You know, if you had ask me that question a few weeks ago, I would have had a very different answer for you. But I've been sitting here thinking, and if you tell one single soul outside of this room what I'm about to tell you-"
"I wont Mr. Potter, I wont, don't worry. I wouldn't want to ruin your reputation." Promised George.
"If you had asked me that a few days ago, I would have given you the same story as every other adult brazened by their childhood. A child repeatedly disappointed by their parents, other adults and life in general. A boy, with no friends, left to fight their way through the world. A boy without a "someone" as you put it.
But, that would give me little responsibility for the man who sits here before you. So I'll spare you all of that.
Your father let me on his board of directors because he thought it would soften our relationship - and therefor the business between us. But, all it did was anger me somewhere deep inside and worsen my hatred for him. Because the truth is that my envy of Peter Bailey turned to covetousness.
But what Peter Bailey had, you couldn't buy with money. And so I did everything I could to double cross him, to stay ahead of him and everyone for that matter at all costs.
The first years weren't what childhood should be - no - but everyone has woes, sorrows, strife, complaints and needless bruises.
But pain is not what separates us, or defines us. Its what we do with the pain that defines us.
Because- here's the truth George, your father's life had woes, and sorrows, and all that as well - everyone's dose. But the difference between your father and I was that I chose to keep all those pains of the past in front of me, and they blurred my perspective of the world around me. Your father, however, chose to put all of the pains of the past behind him, and they made him stronger.
Don't feel sorry for me George Bailey, I am getting what I deserve - what I wanted most of my life - alone, here in seclusion. Alone in my thoughts. The day I was arrested, as humiliating as it was, I was so relieved- finally, -finally I was beaten, they put me away and I wasn't able to hurt anyone anymore.
"But Mr. Potter, to not eat, and your arthritis is.."
"Is the physical result of what I have allowed my life to become. Debilitating. Debilitating arthritis because of a debilitating soul.
"Maybe you are getting what you think deserve, but do you want to know what I think? I think is everyone deserves a second chance, especially those who are willing to change."
"Well what are you saying then George?" Ma Bailey said clearing up the dishes.
"I'm not saying anything, only that Potter- even amidst his downfalls, he's still a person."
"He's getting worse, I hear." Said Annie.
"Yes, every time one of his businesses are sold, he falls a little more into despair. I'm not sure how long he will make it like this. Stuck in that cold, damp place, alone - with nothing to occupy his mind. Nothing too…"
"He can come here then." Mrs. Bailey said.
"What?" Mary, George and Annie said in unison.
"That's what you were hoping for wasn't it?" Mrs. Bailey's hands on her hips. "You don't think I know how you think? A mother always knows."
"He can pay room and board and that will help us out." Annie chimed in.
"Are you sure?" George asked exchanging a look with Mary.
"He can't do any harm to us- he's too old, and he isn't going to live that much longer, " Mrs. Bailey shrugged, "We have an obligation to take care of the elderly, even if it is Henry F. Potter needing the care. If you can get it in order George, Annie and I will do the rest."
"But I do want a pay raise!" Annie laughed.
"George, I'm happy you're here." George pulled a chair along side Mr. Potters bed.
"How are you doing today? Mr. Potter."
"Oh, the same as every other day - dying." He laughed. "It will make many people happy to see my name on a head stone." Mr. Potter was in no better health, but since moving to the Bailey's Boarding house, something had changed.
"Now, Mr. Potter, you shouldn't say such things."
"I've said it before and I'll say it again, Most people don't like me George. I don't like them either- but I also." Potter stopped. "For a very long time, I also didn't like myself very much. These last few months with your family's kindness, has helped me with that. Reach in that drawer George. There's an envelope addressed to you."
George pulled it out, and started to read through the papers- "Its your will," He flipped through the pages reading them, "Mr. Potter, you can't, its too much, its.."
"Its all I have." Potter nodded.
"Mr. Potter, I couldn't…"
"You can, and you will."
"I already got the money from before - that's been enough…"
"Yes, and what did you do with it! You set up college funds for your kids and let Mary do the house up, bought a new vehicle. All good things, but this money? Use it for yourself. Use it to build things like you always wanted to do, use it to travel places you've always wanted to go."
"But there's so much Bedford Falls could …"
"You've given Bedford falls enough!" Potter exclaimed. "But, since I knew that you'd say that," - handing George another envelop. "I've made an alternative one, with a large portion of my estates going into the care of the Building and Loan to be used for whatever your board sees fit - as long as it enhances Bedford Falls. Which wont be a problem with the Bailey's in charge. Even if that is letting the rabble move out of my slums." Mr. Potter smiled.
"Mr. Potter I don't feel comfortable…"
"All you can take with you is that which you've given away. I used to see that sign when I went into that old Building and Loan, never fully understanding it. Writing your father off for such foolery. But, I think I understand it now."
Now, you hush up and fulfill a dying man's request. All the times you went out of your way for this town - and this! This is what you're going to fight me on? The money for your mother and Annie is well deserved, they took very good care of me.
"And there's, there's one more thing I need to tell you." Mr. Potter took a deep breath. "Its not something I'm proud of, in fact, it may be the lowest thing I have ever done."
"Ok, Mr. Potter." George put the papers down as Mr. Potters expression changed.
"I was there George."
"Where?" George leaned forward, grabbing Mr. Potter's hand to steady him.
"That night. When everyone brought you money, because…I…. "Mr. Potter began coughing.
"It's ok," Mr. Potter. You need to rest."
Moving his hand to the side, "I need to tell you. I came there, to your house. And I couldn't go in. I sat there with the money in the envelope, counting your hundred dollar bills as you sang and celebrated friendship and love - things that were so foreign and unknown to me, and I just couldn't go in.
I couldn't go in there, where so many good people were. Where so much happiness was. I was undeserving. I was tired of ruining things George. And even though I had the solution in my hand, I would have ruined something so much more meaningful, more wonderful if I had gone in.
In the lowest moment of your life, there was so much more happiness than the highest moment of mine. How's that for pathetic?
So as I sat there, I reasoned the problem was solved, people had brought you money, Sam Wainwright had even forwarded up to twenty-thousand dollars.
You and the town of Bedford Falls and you were better off, to be left with the realization that you truly were the richest man in Bedford falls. I had already sold myself out so many times, what was another eight thousand dollars?"
"Mr. Potter…" George began but there were no words to describe the gratefulness he felt for having the privilege to witness a man once filled with such tyrannical animosity being reconciled into a man filled with humbled benevolence.
Mr. Potter held his hand up, hushing George, swallowing coarsely. "When you came to me that night, I had your missing money, the money that could have sent you to your death in my desk. I'm so sorry George. I know, it doesn't mean much, but…that night, I told you, that you were worth more dead than alive. But the truth is, its me who is worth more dead than alive.
"Now, that's not true, Mr. Potter. You shouldn't say such things." Said Mary, leaning on the doorframe, tears flowing from her eyes. When she had arrived, George didn't know. Mary moved over to Mr. Potters beside, "I'm so glad we've had the chance to get to know you better."
"At least now my money will go to good use. Maybe that was the plan all along?" His breath ailing, looking at Mary."For my heart to be closed so that all my money was kept stored up until now. Maybe, there's a reason? Maybe something is coming along and all my greed and pride and cruelty can be used for good. I like to think that way, is it wrong for me to think that way?"
"No, Mr. Potter." Mary's eyes glistened with tears. "I think you're right."
"George, I want you to know that, that you're worth more, than all I have ever been. You're in every person in this town. Your in the walls and floors and roofs of their homes. You're in their businesses. You're in their pasts their presents and their futures. There is no money that can compare George." Mr. Potter smirked, "Did you get that Annie?"
"I didn't hear nothing. Just coming on in here to check your sheets, and you go on giving me such a hard time." Annie ruffled his bedsheets turned to leave,
"Stay." Said Mr. Potter.
Annie stopped at the door, turned around patted Mr. Potter's hand pulling up a chair.
"I should have rot away, thats what I deserved. But you - Mary, Mrs. Bailey, and Annie, you all saved me. For that George, I can't thank you enough. Thank you for teaching me to live George. Thank you for giving me life. Stay with me, a while longer will you?
"Of course, Mr. Potter, of course we will." George whispered.
Mrs. Bailey joined them a little while later. And for the first time in his life, Henry F. Potter was surrounded by the warmth comfort of friends."
"Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts as we prepare for liftoff. The announcer brought George back to reality. Looking at the old man still grumbling, and then back at the man sitting next to him, "You never know, its never too late for people to change."
Anchor Chains
George walked to the front of the ship. How different he felt the last time he looked over a rail into water, life, just like water can bring calmness and calamity,
"Last stretch before home, Mary. You know, the irony of this whole journey is that I spent so much of my life wanting to get away from Bedford falls. To get out of that town and see the world. And when I finally did - I spent all of my time talking about it, and if I'm being honest, wanting to go back.
I have met so many people on this journey; people searching for themselves, people sure of themselves, people somewhere in the middle lost in a bay of despondence, missing some fundamental link that it seems is just so automatic in a small town like Bedford falls.
My father said that he figured we filled a fundamental urge at the building and loan, and when I think back on these past few months, I don't think that I was doing much different than what I do at the Building and Loan.
Along with fulfilling my lifelong dream of travelling, I was still helping people, I coaching people, I even loaned them money.
I think that I've helped people to see those fundamental needs that they are missing - the ones my father spent his whole life helping people achieve - a roof over their head, walls around their loved ones and a fireplace to keep them warm, better put, a home.
Mary, there are so many people in this world who are missing a home. A real home, not just the building, but a place filled with the love, and safety and consistency and surety. They're missing what you so naturally gave me and our children and what they can now give our children because of your sacrifices.
And so, what I think I've discovered, is that its not that places that fill your life up -, even though this world is truly beautiful, but really, what makes life beautiful, worth living, are the people, and knowing that amidst this world, there is a place you can call home.
I could travel the world and if I didn't have a home with people in it to love, I would have nothing. And I could have never traveled past that Bedford falls sign, but because I have a home with people to love, I really do have everything.
And if what my friend Clarences said was right - that no man is a failure who has friends, then I think in addition to that, there is no greater measure of a man than his home- even if their passports are filled.
How's that for a philosopher? Huh Mary? You wont believe it, but I think I'm ready to go home. I'm ever so homesick for Bedford falls.
Clink, clink, clink, clink, clink, clink
There goes the anchor. What an amazing sound, I'm so glad I got to hear it on this side of the world, but Mary, I'm just not so sure that its the best sound in the world anymore.
The sweet smell smoke puffing up the chimney filled Georges senses as the soft crunch of a Christmas eves snow fell blanketing him in comfort. The song of Christmas carols filling his ears. Walking up the path of the old inn, stopping to look at the window, Mary threw a wishing rock at all those years ago when it sat in desolated anticipation.
He didn't know that his life would turn out like it did when he walked a young eighteen year old girl home from a high school dance. But he was ever so grateful it had gone the way it did.
"Grandpa George! Grandpa George"
Little Mary came running down the stairs leaping into his arms. "I missed you!"
"Dad! You're back so soon!" Janie, a mirror image of her mother came into the entrance. "Merry Christmas!"
"I couldn't miss Christmas Eve with you all - you're mother wouldn't have liked it! You did the house up…"
"Just like mom would have." Said Janie hugging him. "We couldn't go the first Christmas without this old place decorated, your wife wouldn't have liked it!"
"Come on in the living room tell us all about your trip." Said Zuzu.
Looking around his living room, he suddenly didn't want to talk about the buildings he saw, the people he met or the places he went, so sitting on the sofa, with his grandkids gathered around him he said, "Do you kids want to know the three best sounds in the world are?"
"We know dad, we know," said Tommy
"Train whistles, airplane engine and anchor chains." The room said in unison.
George smiled, "Those are good sounds, but I think I have found better ones- the patter of children's feet, the laughter of loved ones, and well, for me - the town bells began to ringing-
"Grandpa George- listen, listen! The bells! Do you hear the bells?"
"I do, little Mary, I do." Smiled George. "Those bells, those bells are the best sound in the world, because they mean, I'm home."
"To home!" Pete raised his glass.
"To home," The room echoed.
"Grandpa George," Little Mary said, taking Georges face in her tiny hands. "Teacher says, every time a bell rings, an angel gets her wings. Do you believe that? Grandpa George? Or do you think its hogwash?"
"I believe it, my little Mary," George said scooping her up in his arms. "I really do. Looking up he winked "Good job, Mary, good job. Merry Christmas."