GOLDEN AGE
by Hal

He's a hard man to buy gifts for. His wants are few, his tastes
exact, and he doesn't exactly drop any hints. But it's Walter's
birthday and so I'm making an effort.

I decided that a variety of smaller gifts would have a better
chance of success. A couple of hits and a couple of misses,
maybe. And dinner. I'll never be the cook he is, but I'm capable
of roasting a chicken and buying cheesecake.

It smells good. He should be here in half an hour or so. I put
the potatoes on to boil and sit down to wrap up the presents. I
have a box. I'm too lazy to wrap each one and I know Walter would
make snide remarks about all the wasted paper.

First, two novels. The latest Le Carre, boring in my opinion, but
he likes them. And I took a chance on "Memoirs of a Geisha." I
haven't read it, but I have a hunch it will be his kind of thing.
A bag of salted licorice. I didn't even know such a thing existed
until Walter. Tickets to a play. Another iffy item -- I'm not
sure he'll enjoy it. I sort of don't think I will.

And finally, the album. I've been working on it for a couple of
weeks now. I can't resist taking one more look at it before I
wrap it up. The cover is an old photo of Lucy, sphinx-proud on
the sofa. Pouring myself a glass of wine, I start to leaf through
it.

There are pictures we took of each other in the park: Walter in
a ball cap, sitting with his back against a tree; me looking very
uncool in sunglasses. A snap I took of Walter napping on the
couch, with Lucy snoozing slit-eyed on his chest. It's one of my
favourites. I had it made into a mouse pad, too, for me. It makes
me smile every time I look at it.

And here's one of Lucy when she was a kitten, chasing dust mice.

Shots from Christmas at my mother's. Us standing stiffly together
in front of the tree. Walter in an apron, peeling vegetables with
my mother. Me ladling punch for the party guests. A copy of a
picture one of the neighbours took, of Walter kissing Lisa's jerk
boyfriend under the mistletoe. I laugh every time I remember. I
forget his name. Should have kept this one out for blackmail or
something. I can just imagine what Walter is going to say when he
sees it.

Lucy watching the fish and gerbil habitat. She's got such an
inquisitive mind.

This one is priceless: a duty shot of Walter in the stocking cap
Grandma knitted for him. He's doing his best to look grateful,
but I can feel the invisible scowl rays pouring off the page. I
didn't realise she still had some of that blue and orange wool
mix left. I remember how Lucy kept trying to jump up and bat at
the tassel.

A few normal looking pics of me and Walter sitting on the couch
at the New Year's Eve party. Azie's a good photographer. Good
thing she finally gave up pestering us to pose some "more
artistic" shots for her.

I flip past the picture Walter took of me the next morning. I
know he likes it, but I get hangover flashbacks just looking at
it.

Here's a really cute one of Lucy sleeping on Walter's pillow. She
does that when he's not here.

This one of me he hasn't seen before -- from the lab at work.
From when we made that Mad Scientist A Month calendar in 95. I
love the diabolical expression on my face and the electrodes on
JC's temples. I should put it up on my website too.

How many shots of Lucy did I put in here? Three in a row of her
chasing butterflies in the back yard!

Oh, I love this one: from just before Easter, when I made Walter
colour eggs with me. He didn't know about that green food
colouring on his face until hours later. He looks *so* cute.

And here's Lucy with the bandage on her leg. Her being lost was
so awful. Thank God Walter found her.

Maybe I should have put in more pictures of her.

Walter will love these canoe trip pictures. Him glowing and
happy, me cranky and with dirt on my face. It was fun, though.
Not that I'd be too eager to do it again.

And the last page: taken with the tripod and timer, from a funny
angle, Walter and I as Batman and Robin. Those were great
costumes. I wish I had a better shot. I wish Walter would become
a super hero so I could see him in tights more often. I wish he
hadn't sworn me to secrecy about our caper that night. I could
dine out on that story for the rest of my life.

I put in the album and close the box. I forgot to buy wrapping
paper so I have to make do with an old piece I found in the
closet. With balloons on it. I think it will be enough. Yes, just
barely. Holding the paper down with one hand, I try to tear off a
long strip of tape.

The potatoes boil over. Damn. Jumping up, I turn down the heat
and wipe the stove off. Lucy leaps onto the table and swipes at
the tape. It sticks to her paw. Damn again. She can't get it
unstuck and she takes off, running crazily with the tape
dispenser dragging along beside her.

I hear the door bang and soon Walter is in the kitchen, holding a
tape-free Lucy in the crook of his arm. He comes over to me. I
kiss him. He smiles. He's beautiful.

I wish I had my camera.

-fin-

The title refers to the Golden Age in comic books, which was
around the 30s to the 50s. (There was also a Silver Age -- sort
of like Latin <g> -- and now we're in the Modern Age.) It has
the connotation of the Good Old Days.

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