Times seemed better in 1964, back when you’d sweat blood and tears to get the corn crop to grow ripe for the coming harvest.  Of course, ‘twasn’t all for the selling; lands no!  Why, some of the best memories in your head, those ones so simple but joyous, that you remember all your life, came from your toil.  Oh, how you loved those nights with the sweetest pickings that were grown by your own hand, those salt ‘n’ pepper ears, all roasted in the husk in the fire pit.  That dinner table was what the Greeks called ambrosia, and ye’d near-continually be asking someone around you to hand you another ear of honey-sweet corn and the butter tray with it, if they’d be so kindly.
     Lands, those were surely the days!
     I remember that the crop of ’64 was one of the best in a long time.  And not just in size: it was truly the most prime batch of heaven-on-earth you’d ever laid your teeth on.  The local preacher said it was God’s blessings for the township’s regular attendance and their goodness in the offering plate (it was spoken after the benediction among gossips as well as thought by many others that his saying so was a stab at trying to increase the generosity of the sect towards the coffers).
     But, mind you, I didn’t say it was a perfect year, or even a good one.  That was the year that Becky disappeared.
     It was my senior year in high school.  I was a good student and worked hard on my father’s farm.  I was crushing (as did a plentiful number of the town’s other young men) on the prettiest girl in the county, Becky Shakes.  But you see, I had a leg-up on all the other boys: she liked me back.
     I had asked her on a few dates and quickly found myself drowning in a thing called love.  She was not only prettier than a clear, sunny day, but I also found she was also smart, sweet, and funny.  She was always laughing and more times than not you found yourself laughing right along with her.  Her smile and her laugh were catchin’, you see.
     And after I had fallen for her, I was led to wonder how she felt for me.  As you likely can figure, one of the best ways to see this is to try and kiss the gal.  But, I now wince to say it; by lands I was far too shy to kiss Becky Shakes on the lips.  Barely had the gall to peck her on the cheek as I dropped her off at her house after whatever activity she had agreed to go with me on that worked as a date.  Of course, I knew she kinda liked me, enjoyed more company in the very least, for she did say yes almost every time I asked her on a date (not one to try say yes to keep from hurtin’ your feelings; she’d tell you no if that’s what she wanted to say), but I never rightly knew how much until April 20th, 1964.
     Yes, I remember the exact date; for I was know to keep a journal from time to time, and that night I filled pages.  It was the night she told me she loved me.
     We had gone to the theatre and had seen a film.  I could look back in my journal (I’m sure I wrote it down in there) and see what film specifically, but it’s not so important to the story so I won’t bother.  Well, after the film, she suggested we go to Lookout Hill and do some stargazing.  Now normally I took her straightaway back home, but the film was short and her curfew wasn’t for a little over another hour, so I was glad to oblige.  And I did enjoy stargazing.  So, we drove in my rickety old car up to the hill and lay side-by-side on the cool spring grass and looked into the stars.  After a while (we took turns pointing out our favorite constellations) she rolled on her side and looked at me all serious-like and said, “Nathan, I’ve had something on my chest for a while, and I feel I have to say it.” Her words began quickening.  “I love you, Nathan, and I don’t care if you love me back.  I mean, I do care, but I still love you either way, even if you don’t-“
     I cut her off, saying, “Becky, calm down, I love you too.”  I barely spoke the words before she was kissing me.  And not a kiss akin to the pecks on the cheek I’d dared myself into giving her before.  She was kissin’ me long and hard.
     From then on it was an exponentially higher level of relationship.  We were totally besought with each other and tried to eliminate us much time away from each other as was humanly possible.  We ne’er were apart unless it was absolutely necessary to be.  We ate together (most meals), did schoolwork together, listened to the radio and watched the television together, read together.  We did practically everything but bathe and sleep together.
     My life was even better than what I had ever thought heaven might be like.  You know how while sitting in a pew at church, every time you hear the word “heaven” mentioned, you get a picture in your mind of what it would be like, how happy and wonderful you’d feel if you got there.  My love for Becky Shakes and the knowledge of her love for me was tenfold of that picture.
     I would walk down the halls of school with her on my arm, my head held high, my lips a’grinnin’ at all the jealous young men around us.  Now, I know pride is a sin, but quite frankly I didn’t give a care after feeling so high above all those boys.  Blame it all, I was proud that I could call Becky Shakes my gal.
     But as the Bible likes to tell us, soon after pride comes fall.  My fall came rapidly.
I loved Becky Shakes and I had made up my mind that the night after we graduated I would ask her to be my wife.  I started to more thriftily use my money, saving every cent I could so I could buy her a ring.
     I even knew how I was going to do it.  I was going to find her after the graduation ceremony and take her to a quiet corner where we could speak over the joyous din of friends and relatives congratulating their supported graduates.  I would tell her that I got her a little graduation present, and then give her a bigger-sized box all wrapped up in shiny paper with a nice blue (her favorite color) bow resting on top.  She’d open it up and find a small ring box inside already open with a note that asks, “Marry me?”  The anticipation of that coming day welled up inside me, and I approached my schoolwork like a man possessed.  I suppose some could say I was, that I was possessed by love.
     And then, one day Becky didn’t show up to school.  I figured that she must’ve caught a bug and didn’t feel well enough to function at school.  After school I had to work on the farm (my father was adamant that I do my work before I paid my assumed-bedridden love a visit).  I had gone back inside the house for a slice of apple pie that my mother had made for her hardworking men when there was a knock on the door.  I remember it clearly.  I was taking my first bite of that mouthwatering pie when there was a knock at the front door.  My mother went off (she had been cutting one of my younger brothers a slice) and answered it.  After a moment she wandered back into the kitchen, a troubled look on her face.  Sounding unsure, she told me, “Nathan, there’s a policeman at the door.”
     I was confused as she looked, so I hurriedly gulped down my swallow of pie, and headed towards the front room, wiping cream from my lips.
     I recognized the policeman as the newest deputy on our town’s small police force.  He had a serious expression on his face and said to me in a tough voice, “Son, I have to ask you some questions and you’d better answer them truthfully, else you’ll be in a world of trouble.”
     I frowned at him, telling him that I didn’t know what the problem was, but I’d help him as best as I could.  I told him to take a seat, taking one myself.
     He sat, and began with the worst statement I had ever heard in my life.  “Becky Shakes is missing.”  He paused a moment, studying my expression.  If I looked half as dazed as I felt, then I must’ve been quite a sight.  “All we know is that she disappeared from her bed late last night.  Her mother claims she gave her a cup of warm milk in her bed and then in the morning she was gone.  Do you know where she is?”
     I shook my head.  I shook my head many times that day.
     That was the worst day of my life.

     That harrowing day was twenty-six years ago, yesterday.  My wife always gets mad about the gloomy mood I get in this time of year.  Don’t mistake me, though; I love my wife very much.  She is a beautiful, smart woman that I met when I went off to college, where I finally escaped the suspicion of my neighbors.
     After college, I moved back into my old house, on my father’s farmland.  My father died of cancer and had left the farm to me.  My mother moved in with her widow friend, despite my offers that she could live with my new bride and I in the house she had seen built for her.  She had refused my offers, saying that she didn’t want to get in the way nor did she want to be around such playful newlyweds.
     When I returned to the farmland, I found that the suspicion that had surrounded me concerning Becky’s disappearance had faded away.  People said that they didn’t really think I would had done anything to Becky; I had mostly got trouble from the wounds of jealously I had brought my peers.
     Since settling back in this old town, I’ve had three children, two of who have moved out to start families of their own.  I have a son, seventeen years old, who still lives in the house.  My life had moved on from my dreams of life with Becky.
     Becky’s life, on the other hand, hasn’t moved on.
     Yesterday I received a knock on my door.  My wife and my son were away to the city to do some shopping, so I was the only one around to answer the door.  After opening the oak door, I fainted dead away.  It was Becky Shakes who stood in my doorway.
When I came to I found myself with my head on her lap.  She was stoking my hair like she used to, over half of my life ago.  I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn’t get any words out.  It just couldn’t be real.
     She noticed that I was awake and smiled at me.  “What, were you surprised to see me, Nathan?”  Something about her didn’t seem right, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
     I gathered myself to speak.  “I was shocked almost out of my life.”
     She laughed melodically.  “Why is that?”  Sunshine glimmered across her smooth, beautiful skin and all at once I realized what was wrong.
     “You… you’re still young!”
     She nodded, her smile growing carnivorous.  “Yes, Nathan, I am.”