Purple Bubbles

“Purple bubbles? How on earth did you create purple bubbles?” I asked.

“It’s simple you just put food coloring in the water.”

“Wow I never thought of that. You are quite the entrepreneur Mr. Welch. Pretty soon you will see all the kids around the neighborhood blowing purple bubbles and there will not be one ounce of laundry detergent left on store shelves for the mothers to clean the purple stains with.”

Mr. Welch chuckled as he sat in his wheel chair blowing purple bubbles into the wind. I had only been working at the assisted living center for a month now, but I had grown quite fond of Mr. Welch. He was a jolly old man, always smiling, and full of stories. Everyday I would bring him his lunch and push him around the building for his daily stroll. He would tell me all about his life’s many adventures and stories of his days as a CIA agent, government conspiracies, ghostly encounters, and UFO’s. I think he had been watching too much of the history channel, but he was a great storyteller and I could not help but listen as if they were real. He told of his theories on Nasa’s fake mission to the moon, Area 51, and how barcodes are really intended to serve as means of control by a putative world government, or that they are Satanic in intent. He could talk for days about his silly ideas but luckily his stroll was only thirty minutes long.

Although he was full of some crazy ideas he was also full of good advice. I could tell him just about anything and he was always ready to respond with his words of wisdom. I told him of relationship troubles, and issues with family and friends. He would talk me through my problems and would always end with his favorite quote "Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving".

I could tell Mr. Welch everything, but one thing he did not want me doing was asking about his family. One day during my first week of work I was serving him lunch and I made the mistake of asking if he had a wife or children little did I know I would be wearing his lunch on my shirt for the rest of the day. I never asked him about it again. Some of the nurses say they heard that he was once married to a beautiful woman and that they had two adorable twin girls that died in a horrible car crash and that Mr. Welch was the only survivor. Some of the other nurses believe that his conspiracy theories and days as a CIA agent were true, and that they were involved in some kind of government or alien abduction. I was not sure that any of these stories were true, but I did know not to ask of his family ever again.

“Alright Mr. Welch, it’s time we retire the purple bubbles before we attract any UFO’s.” I said jokingly as I began to roll him back to his room.

He looked at me with a smile.

“Alright my dear, I suppose you are right. Maybe tomorrow we can try for pink bubbles.”

“Sounds good to me, you don’t want to miss UFO hunters either. It starts in five minutes.”

“ I certainly do not. Then what would I watch while I ate my delicious snack of Jello? It would throw my whole day off!” He said with a chuckle.

“You can’t deny your love for Jello Mr. Welch. I know you can’t live without that green jiggly goodness.” I said sarcastically.

“Well it’s better than that damn tapioca. I don’t even know what that shit is made of. It is like the mystery meat of puddings.”

I continued to laugh as I rolled him back into his room. I helped him back into bed, turned his TV on to the history channel and gave him his green Jello as I said my goodbyes.

“Here’s your Jello Mr. Welch enjoy! I will see you tomorrow for lunch and your afternoon stroll.”

“Thanks my dear, you drive home safely now.”

“Oh I will, and I want to hear all about UFO hunters tomorrow!” I said as I walked out the door.

My shift was over, and it was the end of another day with good old Mr. Welch. I knew tomorrow would be another day filled of pink bubbles and stories.

I arrived at work the next day ready to serve Mr. Welch his lunch of questionable meat, over salted potatoes, and half frozen peas. I arrived at his room in great anticipation for the day’s stories and life lessons but my anticipation soon turned to concern when I entered his room and he was nowhere to be found. All that was in the room was his gown that had been draped over the bed and a picture of a woman and two twin girls. Could this be his family? I thought to myself. They were beautiful, and I could see how loosing them would hurt so much. With the picture in hand I rushed out of the room and asked the nurses what happened to Mr. Welch.

“Betty where is Mr. Welch?” I asked in a panic.

“What do you mean? He is in his room isn’t he?”

“No I went to go serve him his lunch and all I found was his gown and this picture.”

I held out the picture as she squinted at it carefully.

“Well I’ll be damned. They did exist.”

I began to panic.

“But where is Mr. Welch?”

“I will check with the other nurses, start searching the bathrooms and the hallways.”

I searched everywhere that day and Mr. Welch was nowhere to be found. The only thing he left behind was a National Geographic magazine about the possibility of life on other planets. It listed the locations of where all of the most famous alien sightings took place. Inside he circled the page about Roswell with the words “someday I will come home” written beside it. Had he set on an adventure to see the great legend of Roswell for him self? Did aliens abduct him? Or did his family come and get him? His disappearance would remain a mystery and the story soon became a legend at the Live Oaks Assisted Living Community. I miss good old Mr. Welch but I know he is still somewhere out there. I can still see his infectious smile and hear his crazy stories in my mind. I may never know exactly what happened to him, but once in awhile I will spot a purple bubble blowing in the wind and I know that he is near.