Page 28 - Contrast1960v4n1

of the warmth of Dave's sunny day in our hearts. We knew we'd
miss him.

We were surprised to see Dave about two weeks later. He didn't
say much about his stay. Nice weather and the usual things a person
says after visiting somewhere. He got a room and ate his meals in our
place, so I saw quite a bit of him. It's funny, but when you don't see
a person for awhile, you see him so much more clearly when you see
him again. At any rate, I never noticed how old Dave looked before
he left, and he looked old now. He walked a little stiffly, and you
could see his hand tremble when he lifted his coffee cup. We got to be
pretty good friends, and one especially cold and wet night, when no-
body else was in our place but Dave and I, he told me the story of his
trip "home."

We were just talking and the subject got around to home towns
and old friends and soon I was doing all the listening and Dave was
doing all the talking. Dave had arrived in town in time to attend
the Homecoming services in his church, the old stone Methodist
church where he had been baptised and attended Sunday School.
This was more than a church celebration to Dave. This was his Home-
coming. The service was beautiful, the people were friendly. But
they were not the old friends he remembered. No one slapped him
on the back and shouted, "Well, I'll be dog-goned if it isn't Dave
Sanders! How've you been?" No one knew who Dave Sanders was.
He had scanned their faces, looking, looking for someone he knew,
someone who knew him. Billy Dent, Barbara Milton, Miss Redley,
the librarian-but he saw only the happy, friendly faces of strangers.
Dave didn't stay for dinner. He left, and walked the cold, windy
street back to the hotel where he was staying. He hadn't noticed the
new Acme, the gas station where Mable Walker's house used to be,
the parking meters which had replaced the old elm trees. He was
acutely aware of these changes now. It seemed to him that the more
he looked for familiar faces of both people and places, the more he
saw only change and strangeness. His eyes fell on a familiar name-
Peters' Drug Store and Soda Shoppe. The name was familiar, the
place was new. He stopped in, and sat at the shiny counter, ordered
a sandwich and asked if Mr. Peters still ran the place. The high school
boy behind the counter said sure, and did he want to see him? He
went back and called. A man came out, and Dave could see a shadow
of recognition cross Mr. Peters' face. Dave also recognized him as Jim
Peters' son, whom he vaguely remembered as being in the service when
he visited the town last. They talked a long while, the young man

21