The Fall

The fog hovered above the lake in the early morning hours. The crisp air burned through her nostrils as she came to a stop along the bank. Her breathing was heavy, and the smokey cold air that expelled from her lips slowly dissipated into the morning sky. Running helped to clear her mind, but today was different. Something was off, and she could not grasp the uneasiness that permeated down to her bones. As the wind began to stir, the leaves rustled along the ground as if dancing in the wake. She became lost in them for a moment, as the golds and reds whirled in the breeze. If only…her mind shifted to a place of warmth and love, then a sharp pain began to push up from the dark deep grave within her. Shaking her head, she moved forward into a run and buried what might have been for another day.

*************

His hand shook as he slowly turned the page. The script flowed elegantly, and the words eased his mind as they settled into his heart. A gentle touch of grace lived within the pages and brought life to the reader. The days seemed shorter and colder, but the little black notebook made them meaningful and renewed his hope for tomorrow. The sun begged for rest as it slowly drifted in the palomino white and gold sky. A touch of pink cascaded among the clouds. The water on the lake glistened, reflecting the sun in its final moments of glory, and he knew he must head for home. He clutched his jacket tightly as the wind taunted for his attention. It would be completely dark soon.

*************

If she had not stopped to tie her shoe, she would have missed it. Under the bench, slightly covered with an array of fall colored leaves was a little black notebook. She reached for it and dusted off the front cover. Sitting on the bench, she looked at the book. The worn leather and the faded gold embossing told their own story. She contemplated its contents and whether she should open it. Holding the book to her chest, she looked out onto the lake. Her mind was drawn to a beautiful mallard gliding along the surface. She watched the water break behind it. The morning calm washed over her, and she slowly opened the book. Inside the cover in beautiful script, she read the name Ingrid Shaw.

Turning the page, she began to read the contents. Her heart’s pace increased as she realized the secrets she stumbled upon. Quickly she closed the book and looked around to see if anyone saw her folly. The words intrigued her, and as she grasped the book tightly in hand, she determined to find the owner. The lake quickly became a distant picture painted against the sky’s morning hues. Each step toward her home grew in speed and her mind flooded with anticipation. Work would have to wait today because of her newfound treasure.

When she reached the steps outside her townhouse, her neighbor poked his head from around the corner. His speech startled her. “Good morning, stranger. Back a little earlier than usual. What cha’ got there?” She felt the corners of her mouth fall. She usually ran a little longer on Thursdays when Mr. Johnson typically tended his yard. Small talk felt like looming death, and he was a Master of It. “Oh, this,” she raised the book with one hand while a look of guilt slowly crept upon her face. Mr. Johnson laughed, “No, silly. That smudge on your face. Young people, you really crack me up.”

She quickly darted up the steps and unlocked the door. As she stepped inside, she gazed at the mirror on the adjacent wall. She had a brown smudge on her chin; probably from when she dusted off the notebook. Her hair just rested on her shoulders in soft, caramel blonde waves. She wiped the dirt away and noticed the spark had returned to her eyes. She looked at her hands holding onto the dark leather binding. It had been a year, and she still lacked the courage to let go. The light caught her hand in just the right moment to send a prism of rainbows along the wall. She hurried to the next room, and sitting down, she slowly opened the book.

*************

Today was the pinnacle of my existence. Nothing happens by chance. What are the odds? What if I’d taken another train or simply sat in a different seat? Or what if he had never looked my way? But he did. He saw me, and this silly little notebook that I managed to drop when exiting my seat. For a moment she stared at the beautiful penmanship, and as the words faded together, she imagined the encounter on the train…the exchange of smiles, shy downcast eyes, and the awkward brushing of hands. A deep ache rose in her chest as she continued to read. Those eyes penetrated to my very soul. I know he was made just for me. I can’t wait to see him again. Closing the book, she felt the hot sting on her cheeks. She went to her computer to search the name Ingrid Shaw.

Newmarket was a quaint place, where kindness and beauty lined the very fabric of the town. She would find Ingrid without any trouble. Before she typed her name in the search bar, she picked up the book again, opening somewhere in the middle. He asked me to marry him today. I can barely contain my excitement. Is this really happening to me? My heart wants to burst it’s so full of love and possibilities for the future. Am I mad to feel this way? The burning streams rolled from her eyes once again, and yet she could not release the book. I’ve never felt so complete. What’s true love feel like, my friends ask. I laugh and say, “It feels like freedom.” And on that note, I’ve decided I’m completely mad. A driving groan parted her lips and cut the entire room with its sharp agony. She threw her hand over her mouth to silence the curse, but it still came forth in deep wails. Her body began to shake as she gave herself over to the pain.

*************

She awoke curled up in a bundle on the floor. Looking around the room, she felt displaced as if in a dream. Then she saw it, lying next to her with its delicate rounded edges begging to be turned. “No,” she said to herself. “I must find Ingrid and take her the book.” She went to the computer and typed Ingrid Shaw in Newmarket, New Hampshire within the search bar. To her surprise, nothing in Newmarket appeared. “In a town of 10,000, how could this be the case?” She decided to search the neighboring town of Durham, and still nothing. Looking over at the book, she convinced herself that one more look would be the key to finding Ingrid. She flipped to a section closer to the back.

Our evening walks around the lake are my favorite! Breathing in the fresh air with him beside me gives me a deep sense of security. Some days I never want to leave. I’ll never forget the night we stayed until the stars came out. I’d never seen so many! Or maybe it was because of him that I noticed what I hadn’t before. He changed my mind...my heart…my world. She knew that kind of love and exactly what Ingrid felt. She knew what to do. Grabbing the book and her coat from the rack, she hurried out the door.

*************

As she approached the pathway near the lake, she saw him. She knew in an instant that he belonged to Ingrid. He sat quietly on the bench as if deep in thought. “Excuse me,” she whispered not wanting to interrupt his solitude. He turned to see the book in her hands. “Ah, I see you found my treasure. Well, did you have a look?” Her face flushed a bright pink, and she shyly nodded as she handed him the book. “I was trying to find her…Ingrid…to return it.” He opened the book to a page and began to read aloud:

Eyes dance

Like flickering stars

In a moonlit sky;

Captivated.

Electric impulses

Radiate heat.

Surges of pain;

Elations of joy.

Intertwined

In the abyss.

The only escape:

Surrender.

Two Souls,

Once bound by time

And separated by space,

In harmonious union.

“That’s beautiful,” she said.

“She was beautiful, inside and out. I miss her very much,” he responded.

She realized that he shared a similar grief, and yet his eyes danced when he spoke of Ingrid. He gripped the book with pride as he placed it inside his jacket. “I don’t want to misplace this again. It’s all I have left that matters to me. It gives me hope.”

“I can see that. I mean, I felt that, when I read some of it. The hope…especially the love. I lost someone too,” she managed to choke out before swallowing hard. She expected herself to break, and yet she did not.

“Well, did my Ingrid help you a bit? She really had a knack for it…helping others.”

“Yes, I believe, she did.”

Well, good then,” and he stood to leave. “Please forgive me for rushing away so soon. It’s getting late, and I’m always home before dark. Take my card and call the number tomorrow. I’d like to chat with you again.” He handed her a card from his wallet, and she read his name across the top: Jonathan Shaw.

“Thank you, Mr. Shaw. I will.”

“No…thank you,” he said patting his pocket. “You know, you remind me of her. Her eyes sparkled just like yours, even when she was sad. She always found beauty even in the darkest places.” She watched him walk away, and a sense of peace overtook her heart and mind.

*************

The bell rang several times that morning before she finally opened it to find a tall, middle aged man standing on her front porch. “How odd,” she thought.

“Grace Casey, please.”

“Yes, how can I help you?” She fumbled over her words and frowned when she saw her reflection in the mirror.

“Please sign here,” he said, handing her a pen and pointing to a line. She signed without thought to the verbiage on the page. He handed her a package. “If you have any questions, please call the number inside,” and in an instant he was gone.

Closing the door, she made her way to the couch. Inside the package was the little black notebook and a letter. She began to read:

Dearest Grace,

I must confess. I first saw you over a year ago. I moved back to Newmarket to reminisce in my old age. I remember your young man too. He was a handsome one. The two of you walked by me every day without a care in the world…so in love…so full of life. And then I saw in the paper where he was tragically taken from you. I still watched and waited for you to come back to the lake. The few times you did, I could see the pain that you tried to hide. I recognized it all too well. I lost my sweet Ingrid shortly after we were married. Most of my life I harbored resentment and heartache. I don’t want that for you, dear girl. If you’re reading this today, know that I’ve moved on but am leaving you with one of my greatest treasures and a little something extra.

Remember the love,

Jonathan Shaw

She opened to a page marked by a thin black ribbon and found a cashier’s check for $20,000 with the memo: a little something extra.

Fall madly in love was written in Ingrid’s hand, and with those words, Grace turned the page.