story: The Picnic

(originally published in the 1988 Honor Journal of Utah State University)

The Picnic or Goodbye Blue Monday

Simon watched Maggie's hair fluttering in the wind as they drove through the countryside in his red convertible. While Maggie was looking out at the green rolling hills, Simon patted the small box in the pocket of his sports coat. He could easily see how it would all go. He would pull out the box that reeked of expensive perfume, get a disappointed expression on his face, say something like, "Oh, dear, it must have broken," and hand it to her. She would seem a bit regretful, and open it just to see how much of Simon's money had been wasted. She would look surprised as she pulled the velvet box out of the perfume case. She would look confused as she opened it, and her face would light up when she saw the diamond ring gleaming inside. She would gasp, and then sigh some pleasantry and lean toward him with her soft ruby lips, and...

"Simon, look at the cows!"

Simon looked out at the clumps of black and white cows grazing together, and then at Maggie, and smiled fondly at her. She smiled back through her windblown halo of brown hair. Yes, he thought pleasantly to himself, nothing could possibly go wrong.

After a luxurious while on the dusty country road, Simon found ‘the right place’ and parked the car. With Maggie on one arm and a picnic basket on the other, Simon found his way to the clump of trees on top of the gently rolling hill. A short length of an old, low wall still stood there, which Maggie found adorable, and Simon decided this was indeed the right place.

He unpacked the basket next to the wall, putting a silver tray of crackers and imported cheese on a red and white gingham cloth. He produced a set of delicately shaped crystal glasses, which he promptly filled with French wine from a bottle still covered with traces of thirty-year-old dust. After the light appetizer, Simon brought out china plated, ornate silverware, and two Peking duck dinners, still hot in their Tupperware containers.

After the meal, Simon and Maggie sat gazing into each other’s eyes under the warm afternoon sun. Almost reluctantly, Simon broke the silence, saying, “I’ve got something for you,” and pulled the box out of his pocket. He put on his best disappointed look and said, “Oh, dear, it must have broken,” and handed the box to her. She seemed a bit regretful, and opened it just to see how much of Simon’s money had been wasted. She looked surprised as she pulled the velvet box out of the perfume case.  She looked confused as she opened it, and her face lit up when she saw the diamond ring gleaming inside. She gasped, and said some nice things about Simon, and leaned her with her soft ruby lips toward Simon, who was trying very hard not to smirk, and…

Neither of them really felt the six-hundred-mile-an-hour winds ripping through them, and neither of them were around long enough to see the silhouette of the almost-kissing couple etched onto the wall by the nuclear blast.