173 4 Love and loss “Yeah,” he said shyly. “Well, last week, when I was sure the parole was coming through I wrote her again. I told her that if she had a new guy, I understood. But, if she didn’t, if she would take me back she should let me know. We used to live in Brunswick, and there’s a great oak tree just as you come into town. I told her if she would take me back, she should tie a yellow ribbon to the tree, and I would get off and come home. If she didn’t want me, forget it, no ribbon and I’d understand and keep going on through.” “Wow,” the girl said. “Wow.” She told the others, and soon all of them were caught up in the approach of Brunswick, looking at the pictures Vingo showed them of his wife and three children. Now they were 20 miles from Brunswick, and the young people took the window seats on the right side, waiting for the approach of the great oak tree. Vingo stopped looking, tightening his face into the ex-con’s mask, as if fortifying himself against still another disappointment. Then it was 10 miles, and then five, and the bus became very quiet. Then suddenly all of the young people were up out of their seats, screaming and shouting and crying, doing small dances, shaking clenched fists in triumph and exaltation. All except Vingo. Vingo sat there stunned, looking at the oak tree through his misty eyes. The tree was covered with yellow ribbons, 30 of them, 50 of them, maybe hundreds, a tree that stood like a banner of welcome, blowing and billowing in the wind. As the young people shouted, the old con slowly rose from his seat, holding himself tightly, and made his way to the front of the bus to go home. parole – reynslulausn (frá fangelsi) an oak tree – eik to be caught up – vera upptekinn við an approach – hér: nálgun an ex-con (ex-convict) – fyrrverandi fangi to fortify oneself – verja sig a disappointment – vonbrigði to clench – að kreppa a fist – hnefi exaltation – sæluvíma stunned – sleginn misty – þokukenndur to billow – bylgjast
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