Sam
a new novel by Charlotte Lewis
The television people have gone, finally. Cameras, lights, a reporter and a camera person- all crowded into my living room this afternoon. You could believe that no one had ever lived to 101 around here before.
I had half expected this hubbub last year when I turned one hundred. But George Burns’ birthday was a couple months before mine and, by the time my birthday rolled around, old George had croaked over. So, my 100th birthday was either overlooked or just plain overshadowed.
Frankly, I didn’t mind too much about that. I was feeling my age, almost, last year. But somehow this year I got me a second wind and I was ready for television. Truth be told, I would have been a bit deflated if they had skipped over me a second time.
One hundred one years! My, what a long time that is. If I can last another four years I can say I lived in three different centuries. That makes the years sound even longer, doesn’t it? Well, I’ll have to think about that awhile.
But I’ll have to think about that later. I have much else to think about this evening. The reporter asked me if there was any one particular incident or person in my 101 years that stood out in my memory. Imagine! 101 years and he’s asking for one single memory. Perhaps he believes I am too old to remember anything. I am sure I didn’t even hesitate when I told him the one person I most vividly recalled was a young man named Samuel Christian Olenger. The TV fellow asked, “Why is that, Mrs. Willoughby? What makes him so special?”
“How much time do you have, young man?” I was trying to be polite. “The story of young Sam Olenger is a long one for no longer than he lived.”
“Was he a local here in Cayucos, Mrs. Willoughby?”
I did hesitate there though I’m not sure why. Young Sam lived here all but two days of his life. The first two days of his life. But whether or not he was local – well, I just couldn’t say. There was always something about that boy that made me wonder truly who he was and where he came from.
Oh, I know who came around saying she was his mother. But somehow, I never quite believed it. Maybe I didn’t want to believe. I am not sure – not even after all these years.
But I figured I’d better hurry up and answer the reporter’s question. “He lived here, in this very house, his entire life. He was a hero when the cannery caught fire in 1944; saved the owner and several of the young ladies who worked the number four canning line. Yes, he was a local.”
The TV fellow made a couple of scribbles in his notebook. “You say he lived in this house?”
“Yes, he and his two uncles. I was their housekeeper for more than twenty-five years. They left the house to me when they passed on.”
I think the television fellow didn’t hear a good story in that and he went on to a few of the usual questions, the ones no one listens to the answers. To what do I attribute my long life … special diet, exercise, the ocean air? Stupid questions that no one hears the answers.
I knew if I told him what I really think has kept me going all these years, the young fellow would snort and shake his head. He’d think “Poor, old, delusional woman.” So I just told him, “No, nothing special. I’ve just led a charmed life, I guess.”
And in a way, that may be true. Truth be told, I think it was Young Sam that gave me the ability to live on and on. I wish the television folk would have had time to hear the whole story. But now, since he dredged up the memories, I guess I’ll be spending the rest of the evening recalling Young Sam, Theodore and Woodrow Olenger all by myself.
Ah! Those were the days. I remember them as if they were just last week. The reporter asked about one incident or one person. The biggest problem with memories is that one always brings another. You can’t jump into the middle of your life and pull up one remembrance without disturbing several others. But the one person that stands out in my memory is Samuel Christian Olenger. Young Sam.
When I think of Young Sam, I end up at the very beginning. Nowadays that is nearly a hundred years ago. It will take a while to ‘get’ to Young Sam this way but everything leading up to him is an important part of the memory.
And so begins the story…