The Dust Did Roar

Arlene(Arline)

Deep in the desert,
The Sun does beat.

In a flash there is born,
A twin star to meet.

But all too quick,
The light is gone.

One of her children,
Sets off at a run.

The day has come,
The final break.

Clouds long gathered,
A single mistake.

The journey is lonely,
He stops for companions.

They ask his job,
He says “I build dragons.”

The road stretches out,
Vast as the ocean.

BANG

He comes to a stop,
To find the commotion.

A tire is flat,
Our voyage is stalled.

He walks for assistance,
A replacement is hauled.

“Why do you drive?”
“To say goodbye.”

“To whom do you fly?”
“Someone soon to die.”

The dance that was stolen,
A twisted paper bow.

Moments made clear,
Love made to grow.

BANG

Fate is cruel,
Another blown?

Heads stay calm,
No need to bemoan.

Longer has been the trial,
Yet all too short.

A sterile room,
A gentle fort.

Once filled with smiles,
now nothing but breaths.

A final strained one,
The body now rests.

It’s 9:22,
A nurse confirms.

Her sweet scent lingers,
He can’t come to terms.

It’s 9:22,
the world has ended.

It’s 9:22,
There is work unattended.

Roads feel empty,
Sand covers them more.

BANG

He raises his fist,
Fury to the core.

He screams to the sky.
knowing nothing is there.

“Well Dick,
Do you want to share?”

“She’s dead Jim,
any news on the Japanese?”

A dress in a shop window,
His heart begins to freeze.

“Arlene would have liked that.”
He crumples to his knees.

I’ve never been in love.

But despite that fact , or maybe because of it, I do appreciate a good love story when I see one.

In my first year of university, I asked one of my physics professors for some recommended readings. One of them was Richard Feynman’s The Character of Physical Law.

For those who don’t know, Richard Feynman (1918-1988) was a success physicist who eventually jointly won the 1965 Nobel Prize in Physics for his contributions to quantum electrodynamics. Before this, he worked as a junior physicist at the Manhattan project in Los Alamos which would eventually develop the atomic bomb.

While looking through the casual reading nook inside the university library, I noticed there was another book related to Feynman. It was a collection of writings of Feynmans on his life and work. To my surprise, there was an entire section of the book dedicated to stories about his first wife Arline (Arlene).

They could be called high school sweethearts, but that simple cliche would miss-characterise the depth of their relationship. Even decades later, the affection and care that Feynman felt towards her is apparent in every story shared about their time together. But sadly, there is another cliche they fall under:

Tragic love.

Arline got sick. And by the time it was confirmed as tuberculosis, it was too late.

When Feynman began working at Los Alamos, project director Robert Oppenheimer ensured that Arline was placed at a hospital in nearby Albuquerque, so that Feynman could go to her when the time came.

On the 16th of June 1945, the time had come.

He borrowed a friends car and drove to Arline. On the way, he experienced 2 flat tires.

He is there at Arline’s final moments, then returns to Los Alamos. He gets another flat tire on the way back and he loses his cool.

Once he is back, he throws himself into work not wanting to talk about it. Only much later does it hit him.

Tragedy and Love are so often intertwined in human experience. Romeo and Juliet. Orpheus and Eurydice.

I thought about how this love story could easily be a movie just about this final car journey. But since I am no Hollywood screenwriter, I decided to write it as a poem.

I hope I did their story justice.