|
 |
Along Life’s Way
Not in Accordance: A Fable
By Lois E. Wilson
Twenty-seven year old Cordelia lived in the rural village of Concord.
She felt as if life was passing her by; she felt trapped. She had no
suitors—only a couple of girlfriends. The one man who had shown
interest in her was a lumberjack who sawed down trees, cut them into
logs, and then stacked them into cords to sell at city markets. She saw
no future with him away from Concord.
One winter night, she and her girlfriends decided to go to a nearby,
larger town where a small band “The Cordials” was playing It was an
open dance. Every time she went to an affair like that, she hoped and
dreamed she would meet the man who would become her Valentine, the
answer to her spinster loneliness. She wanted to be married; she wanted
to have a family of her own.
It was a 5-piece band cordoned off from the crowd of attendees. She
wondered, “Are they so good they must keep their fans away?” They found
a table up front.
It surprised her to see one of the band’s players was an accordionist
as they are not often in dance bands. She thought he was handsome in
his sweater and brown corduroy slacks; at least he had enough sense to
dress for the weather. Best of all, he was not wearing a wedding band.
She was staring when he smiled at her. She smiled back.
At the band’s break, he climbed over the rope to their table and
introduced himself. ”Hello pretty girls; I’m Conrad Cord. It’s my band.
I hope you like us.” The girls gushed, “Yes.” He flirts a while longer,
and Cordelia gives him her phone number. They begin dating regularly.
She even projected her married name, Cordelia Cord. He seemed attentive
and sincere. She was happy!
She believed the romance was moving forward at a fast pace, so was not
surprised when at the end of one of their dates Conrad said, “I think
we should tie our two cords together and start a new generation.” He
pulled a jewelry box out of his pocket; the diamond was small, but at
last her soul rejoiced.
Later when alone, she took from a trunk a stack of papers and
pictures—wedding plans she had collected. “I’m engaged!” she shouted
aloud. Alas, her happiness did not last. One of her friends had gone to
a “Cordials” dance in the city. She reported to Cordelia that Conrad
had many female contacts, drooling over them with his smarmy lines.
Cordelia accused Cord: “You were so cordial and committed when wooing
me. I admit I easily fell for it. I wanted to live what you were
promising. Your personality has completely changed. You are discord and
deceit. I’m pulling the ripcord on this relationship. I’ve probably
broken the record for the shortest engagement. You’ve reversed. Here’s
your ring.”
Moral: Watch when you are needy. Be careful! You do not want to end up
with the reverse of Cord—a “DROC.” However, DROC is a fitting acronym.
Don’t Rely On Cord. Use your Parachute!
|
|
|
|
