The Museum of Modern Past

The Museum of Modern Past

By Stephen Donnelly

There I was holding her hand in one of the largest museums I’ve ever seen. Feeling the pressure of her fingers interlaced with mine gave me a sense of comfort in the crowds. I turned to smile at her and she was already smiling at me. Her smile radiated brighter than her unblemished blonde hair that was always perfect when we were out in public.

“What’s up, babe?” She asked me shyly. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I always look at you like this.” I continued my smile.

“No. You don’t, it is like you have something planned for today or something.” She turned away a little bashful. She would be right. Today is the day. I wanted to catch her off guard but I think she figured it out. That was why I started dating her though. She knew me too well and figured things out way too fast.

Just got to play it off like I don’t have anything planned. “No. I don’t plan anything and you know that,” I said as I fondled the ring in my pocket. It had a beautiful sapphire on it. Her birthstone. It was also the month we met. It had a lot of meaning to her. It meant a lot to us overall. It helped that blue was my favorite color.

The tour guide was running us through how older schools used to work. How they were designed to generate workers into the workforce for wars that were never supposed to happen. This style of schooling was outdated in 2010 but many countries still use it as a form of subjugation. I much preferred the more ‘today’s’ approach to schooling that teaches children how to grow up to be a productive member of society than teaching them life lessons based around their interests. I don’t know why we didn’t think of that system sooner.

I rubbed my thumb against the back of her hand to give her some attention. The attendant was talking a lot about how the school system shaped several generations to not be individualists and how that was no longer contemporary to the human condition as humans haven’t needed to fight for resources for years. Especially with renewable resources replacing the more archaic forms in droves. A lot of this was information for grade schoolers so it was a little droney to me. So I had to make sure I was getting some stimulation.

She returned with a quick couple of squeezes of my hand to let me know that she was paying attention to me. When I looked over I could see she was still looking at the tour guide giving her spiel.

As we were moving out of the school area and into the aging farming and agriculture section the building seemed to open up into a massive outdoor area. It was awe striking. The feeling of the outdoor wind brushed over the crowd and the sun was seemingly in place in real time. I almost thought we were actually outside. I remembered coming in by tram over the building and I can only see clear skies and the freshest air I have ever breathed. I reached out to feel the harshest grains prickle at my fingers as it ran over my fingers and palm.

“Farming made a lot of changes from the early nineteen hundreds all the way to two-thousand and fifty. But it didn’t make its best advancements until…” she went on as I pulled down Clair’s hand in an attempt to steal her attention.

Clair looked at me as I motioned my head towards the rustic old barn that was being used as a prop in the background. She nodded in agreement and we both shrunk down into the tall grass trying to hide from the others in the group. Good thing we were in the back.

She already had a smile on her face. “What’s up? I knew you had something sneaky planned.” Now I was starting to wonder how much she was expecting from me. It was starting to feel small and I might just have pulled one over on her.

“I just want to see what’s in the barn.” I couldn’t help that coy smile from spreading on my face to let her know that I had a plan. At least what I said sounded like it could have been mischievous enough to have been the original plan.

“There is probably nothing in there. Everything would be on display that they would want you to see anyway.” She was sporting a smile that told me she was saying the right thing that any rational person would suspect. But she wanted me to do the bad boy thing. She liked pushing my buttons. She liked pushing me past what I would normally do. And to face the truth, I did too. Normally I would be at home playing video games or watching TV wasting what life I was given.

We shared a quick giggle before checking above the grass line to make sure we were clearly left behind by the group. Pretending like we were supposed to be doing what we were, we just walked over hand in hand. Getting up to the old barn it was much bigger than I expected. The sun warped wood wasn’t flushed together allowing you to try to make out what was inside. Where the blue paint was chipped away the wood seemed blackened and worn by bugs and the sun. It was rough to the touch. Not like the vinyl wood we had as flooring in every apartment.

“Whoa,” we both exclaimed, having a hand on what seemed to be a part of the heartbeat of America laying dead to waste due to grandiose engineering and improvements. She held my hand tighter before we both let go.

There was a sign next to the door. It read, “Most barns of this era were painted red which makes this blue barn a rare occurrence. This barn was found off of highway forty-nine and refurbished four times before being declared the last standing barn in America. It was donated to the museum by an anonymous donor and preserved here for everyone to admire an item that would normally litter the countryside where crops and livestock would be found…”

I looked at her and started to open the door and pull her into me. She was otherwise limply following me waiting to see what I had planned. She was looking around at the seemingly never ending ceiling of the inside of the barn. It was crazy how a building in a building still seemed strikingly huge.

I had to play this safely. We started to walk towards the center and just when she wasn’t looking at me, I pulled her a little too hard while getting my feet caught up in hers on purpose. As we fell I pulled her close and had her land on me.

“AH! I’m sorry… I” It was all I could get out. I landed on my back wrong. I needed to power through.

“You okay?” She seemed so worried. “I’m glad you saved me from the fall but I hope you’re okay.” She started to pat me all over, waiting for me to wince.

Flicking her arms away I started to get to my knees. I held my breath for a little bit before saying. “I’m fine. Just need you to help me up.”

She stood up the rest of the way and I palmed the ring into her hand. “I need you to help me up to being the happiest man in the world.” That sounded better in my head. This whole thing played out better in my head.

She looked puzzled at first and then looked at what was in her hand. I have never seen tears come to someone so quickly before. Her whole otherwise perfect face was mangled in unrelenting emotions. Dropping the ring as she took both her hands to cover her face. I immediately started to scramble for the ring as it was falling to the ground. It bounced off the floor a couple of times before I could get a hand on it. She started to scramble for it too and covered my hand with hers.

“Yes,” was all she got out before her lips hit mine. Muting whatever conversation was going to happen next.