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Under the Zilker Tree

Sun, 19 Dec 2010, 09:28 PM (-06:00) Creative Commons License

We stood there under the Zilker tree, the three of us, stuffing sweet/salty kettle corn into our mouths as fast as we could chew and swallow. There was no yule log this year, and it was cold out, but the kettle corn was hot, so we were happy.

There were little kids running around, watched closely by their parents. There were high school kids staring up at the strings of colored lights running up to the star at the top of the moonlight tower. There were people walking around sipping hot chocolate. And there was a couple hugging.

Wait, the couple hugging: he was on his knees hugging her around the legs, looking up at her, and she was standing there smiling at him, listening to something he was saying. And wait: he was standing up now, and there were tears running down her face. And she was kissing him. And they were hugging again. And she was wiping the tears from her cheeks and kissing him and hugging him and crying some more and hugging some more.

We stood there, the three of us, stuffing our kettle corn into our mouths. And I pointed at the couple.

“I think he just asked her to marry him.”

And still we stood there eating our kettle corn while he and she walked over to some friends (who seemed to come from nowhere). They were all smiling, and a white light periodically flashed from her hand.

I waited a while and then handed the kettle corn to Trudy, whose face was now grim, because she knew where I was going.

I walked up to the couple after their friends had left. “Did I just see what I think I saw?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes!” she said. The were beaming.

“Very nice,” I said. “Congratulations!” We shook hands.

I walked back to where Trudy and Karen where standing. For a few more minutes we stood there under the tree, looking at all the people, looking up at the lights and the star at the top and the almost-full moon in the sky overhead, stuffing kettle corn into our mouths until one of us (I don’t remember who) said, “I think I’ve had enough.” So we twisted our bags of kettle corn shut and walked back to the car.

It was a nice enough way to end the day. Although it was cold, we enjoyed the lights and the people and the snacks. But we probably won’t remember it quite as long as those other two do.


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