I stood with my spine in the door frame, pondering the night sprawling out before me like a knitted blanket strewn over the hilly countryside. The darkness called out to me with sounds of wildlife pursuing their midnight meals. I shivered slightly as the breeze picked up to a low growl with a freezing bite, and I walked back inside the sparsely furnished cabin. Snatching my jacket off the hearth I cruised out the door quickly, in a last-second decision. I couldn’t wait for him to show up. Far too long ago he walked out into that dying light promising a quick return.
Jumping on the four wheeler parked in the gravel driveway I sped off into the woods with my headlights bouncing and jostling; casting sharp shadows and dark puddles on the gnarled forest floor. Finally, I reached the highway. The smell of slick oil reached my nose and I cringed from the pungent odor, a trucker was always likely to spill in these sharp curves.
I thought back to his bright smile, reflecting the white of the rising moon as he hopped down the steps onto his new motorcycle. He just wanted a test drive, a quick jaunt through the switchbacks.
Earlier that evening we had curled up in front of the natural stone fireplace and discussed our anniversary plans, an entire year had come and gone that I had met and fallen in love with that man. Soon, I hoped he would become more serious about our relationship. I wonder if he’d thought about our possible future as much as I had.
I took the four wheeler across the highway and followed the shoulder at a sharp pace. My heart was speeding up and I couldn’t seem to control myself. Fear washed over me in waves and I began to shake. Rushing down the road the pungent smell of oil increased.
God no! Before my eyes I saw what I had prayed was an unfounded fear. The bike lay in pieces on the highway’s gruesome surface. The fourwheeler highlighted an unidentifiable vehicle wrapped around the evergreen across the asphalt. Blood and oil mixed in the glass fragments strewn about the road, and I scanned the scene for his body. No, for him, for my love. Not his body, he’s alive. I stopped the four wheeler and ran to the vehicle. Two bodies lay smashed inside. A man and a young boy. Tears sprang to my eyes and my stomach churned. Opening the driver door I checked the man for a pulse. Nothing. The young boy began to stir.
But where was he? I grabbed a flashlight from the four wheeler tool box and searched the scene near the biggest pieces of the bike. Then I heard it. Gurgling from behind a nearby tree. Running to him, a cry caught in my throat. He was soaked in blood, his handsome face was contorted with the pain of his injuries and his hair was matted with dirt and leaves. I cradled him in my arms and the tears spilled down my face. He smirked at me with a bloody mouth. “I got my ride.” I nodded numbly and wiped blood away from his cheek. I kissed his mouth and nursed him in my lap. I was dying with him. His face began to go slack, and when the last color faded from his cheeks I could not contain myself. The agony tore through my body and rattled in my throat out into the empty night.I could not remember anything at all, I had nothing left. The last piece of me had torn itself away and disappeared. I cradled only a shell of a man I once loved in my freezing arms.
The father died on impact. The eleven year old boy in the passenger seat survived but lived the rest of his life paralyzed from the waist down. When the police finally released me from questioning I was given a small package with all of the things my love had on his person on the night of the crash. The thing that still wrenches my soul to this day: a little velvet box with a silver diamond ring nestled inside.
