3WW (Frustrate, Indecent, Understand): Let It Be

'I don't think this is the best use of gas, Paul.'

He glanced at his elderly wife, her unkempt white hair hanging from her head like dead leaves from a dying tree. He remembered when she had auburn hair. In that electric blue dress she wore to homecoming. And the sparkling white of her wedding dress with The Long and Winding Road playing. Their song.

'We don't even know if we have enough to get back,' she complained.

'We'll be fine,' he said gruffly. Frustrated with this old woman's complaints, he turned his eyes to the gray pavement.

He swerved to avoid the debris strewn about at regular intervals on what was once the interstate. What was left of old cars littered the sides of the road. Shredded tires. Bumpers. A broken tailpipe.

'Paul, do you even know where you are?' his wife asked.

'Yeah, we're near Wallingford. See.' He pointed to what was left of a green sign that read, 'Walling'.

'You know, our house probably won't even be there when we get back. I can't understand why an 88 year old man would drive 400 miles for something so ridiculous. It's a waste of valuable gas. And we probably won't even make it back.'

'You can feel free to get out at any time, Laura,' remarked Paul.

She didn't take him up on the offer. Instead, she sat quietly as he exited the highway onto a main route.

Paul navigated the roads, avoiding fallen trees and supposedly dead power lines. More tires, car frames, and broken glass along the sides of the roads.

He had departed their small community based on hearsay and an indecent urge to hear one specific tune. Since the 'incident' he - like every other person on Earth - hadn't been able to use any electronic device. Well, what was left of them anyway. Which made this little trek all the more ridiculous.

He turned the car onto a road with what looked to be a church and multiple small shops, just as it had been described by the traveler who had visited their village.

'This is it!' he exclaimed excitedly.

'How can you be sure?'

'It's exactly as he described it.'

She rolled her eyes and shook her head disgustedly.

He pulled into a parking space next to what looked like an early 21st century Toyota. 'A Camry, Laura, look.' She didn't care.

'Can you just please get this over with?' she huffed.

He left her to sit in the car and made his way to what looked to be an old church. He grabbed the plastic bag with his treasure and opened the heavy wooden door. Upon the altar sat an older woman with salt and pepper hair.

'Hello, young man, how can I help you?'

'I've heard that you play music.'

'I do indeed, sir. And what do you have to offer a poor woman who plays music?'

He had not expected to offer anything. His hands dug into his pockets for something of value. He felt some change and an old pack of gum he had found in a vending machine on his way there.

'I have some change for you.' He moved the gum from his left to right hand and displayed the few dimes and nickels in his left hand.

'What good is change, my dear man? Please do not waste my time with such trash as money.'

Crushed, he was about to leave when she asked him what was in his left hand. He showed her the pack of spearmint gum.

'Ah, now you're talkin' sir. Any song you wish for a piece of such goodness.'

He took from the bag a record and gave it to the woman.

'A good choice indeed. I think you have gotten the best of this trade. Though I get to have a listen myself.'

She placed the record on the turntable and set the belt in motion. The only working player within 400 miles of his small village. The record's scratching filled the silence of the empty space.

The piano started. Followed by his voice. 'When I find myself in times of trouble...'

He listened intently forgetting about the old woman in the church. And the old woman in the car. He was transported back to a time before the incident. Before the trials and tribulations of life. To a time when everything seemed to make sense. A tear fell from his cheek.

And he didn't care how he was going to get back. Because he wanted to sit and listen for the rest of his short life.