The End of Fall

I am lured back to this place every year as the leaves turn red and gold. I can see your face smiling up at me from the depths of the lake. I allow one, single tear to trickle down, splashing into the water. I hear your voice in the wind as it softly caresses my hair at night. The gentle scent of firewood and crackling flames bring you back to me. Your spirit dances within these trees - I can feel you all around me.

I was finally able to rent a cabin on the lake for two whole months. I had the perfect scheme and strategy - I would do absolutely nothing but relax, de-stress and enjoy the time unaccompanied and completely solitary.

I had planned on sitting beneath the trees, breathing in pure, fresh nature while I caught up on some much needed reading. I would dip my toes in the cool, invigorating water while I sipped my morning coffee. I even premeditated about drifting across the lake at sunset watching the sun fall asleep behind the thick, lush mountains.

September and October would be the two months that I had dreamed of for so long - living in perfect happiness in the country.

The cabin was remote and inaccessible by car, it was a two hour walk through the thick mountainside to reach it. I had saw it only in pictures, and of course in my fondest dreams. I had planned for this for what felt like forever. I had saved every spare dime and cut every possible corner in order to rent the cabin for two whole months. The only unwarranted luxury that I had bestowed upon myself was a warm, fuzzy mohair sweater.

The log structure was fully furnished and already had a full stock of food in the pantry. At night the townspeople would arrive and host wonderful get - togethers on the lake. There would be fireworks sparkling over the water and the scent of grilled foods filling the night air.

My closest neighbors would be on the other side of the lake and we could only reach one another by canoe. I had been told that an older couple rented that cabin every year.

I was more than anxious to begin this short - uncomplicated chapter in my life.

When I first arrived, the cabin smelt of old wood and a spicy cinnamon broom which had been pre-hung on the kitchen wall. I immediately began opening the windows, inviting the fresh mountain air inside.

The only sounds were the bumbling of bees and the heavy echo of geese honking. Out on the lake, flopping trout were slapping the surface of the water. I closed my eyes and took a mental snapshot so that I would always remember the picture-book moment.

Across the way I noticed a pale, fragile young man kneeling on the ground. Even from a distance I could see that he wasn't feeling well. I rushed out to the edge of the water and yelled "Hey, are you okay?" With a warm smile he nodded "Yeah, that hike was something else." We both laughed and watched each other for a brief moment.

As the chill of night fell across the lake, I watched as the town folk arrived and began preparing for the nightly gathering. The scent of mesquite wood was rolling through the air - it smelled wonderful. Floating candles glinted on the dark water. I couldn't recall ever feeling so tranquil and untroubled.

Suddenly I spotted the canoe inching across the lake, it was the young man from earlier. I caught myself swiping at my messy, wind-blown hair. "No! I did not come here to swoon and stupor over some strange guy - even if he is handsome and fetching." I felt the heat rise up into my cheeks as I scolded myself.

"My name is Ricky, and that's my grandparents cabin over there." he spoke with a smile as he gestured across the lake. His voice was soft and warm and I couldn't help but to notice how the moonlight twinkled in his dark brown eyes.

We spent the next few hours walking along the lake shore as he told me all about himself. I learned that Ricky had cancer. He had declined chemotherapy or any type of chemo drugs to help treat the ailment. "Lose this beautiful head of hair? I don't think so!" He teased as he ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair. He was in good spirits for someone who was obviously suffering so greatly.

I pretended not to notice his labored breathing and how easily that he tired. Even though I heard his stomach rumble, he had no appetite. I watched as he splashed the cool lake water on his face in attempt to ease the discomfort.

I had never known anyone who suffered from cancer, not personally anyway. A sharp pang hit me right in the stomach as I came to the reality that this handsome, companionable, young man was living out his final days here on the lake.

I drew in a long, deep breath of cool air. I couldn't look away. I knew that my time here was not going to be so uncomplicated and easy.

- I was involved now.

We laughed and snuggled under a flannel blanket as the fireworks took off into the cool, night air.

"Some of my very best memories are right here on this lake." he confessed. We sat in complete silence as the geese made their final flight over the water. We counted the red leaves that were floating by and just appreciated the beauty of that moment together.

I had not intended for this to happen, I didn't need any more complications in my life. By the end of the night it was safe to assume that I was falling for this handsome stranger. I sensed that he felt the same way as he placed a soft, gentle goodnight kiss on my forehead.

The next morning I was sitting on the dock, dipping my toes into the cool water as I sipped my first cup of morning coffee. I'll admit that I was aflutter when I saw Ricky crossing the lake in the canoe.

"Before this goes any further, there's something I need to tell you." he spoke in an unhappy way. "My grandparents allowed me to come stay in their cabin to spend my final days in peace. I don't have long, maybe days - maybe weeks, but I'm glad that you're here to share them with me.

I had only just met Ricky and yet those words utterly knocked the wind right out of my lungs.

His soft flannel shirt had the distinctive smell of red oak- a rich but mild, intriguing scent. He held me close and I could feel his body tremble. I couldn't tell if he was cold, scared, weak or a combination of all three. I just stood there, taking in his scent and knowing that our time together was achingly limited.

As the weeks passed, our friendship grew stronger and more revered. By the end of September his illness was taking a stronger and more tragic hold on him. I remained by his side right until the very end.

There were nights when he was just too ill to take one of our nightly walks along the lake, so we sat on the porch instead. Eventually our walks came to an end - he had grown much too weak.

He told me stories about how he had grown up there on the lake, spending endless summer's with his grandparents. He had caught his first fish, learned how to swim and had even taken many baths in that lake. His stories had so much passion and detail - I could almost hear the laughter from his childhood ringing through the trees.

When he was too sick to sit on the porch, I laid cold rags on his forehead as he tossed and turned in agony. I held his head when he was sick and told him stories about my own life, growing up in the city.

We carved our names into the apple tree behind my cabin. He loved those big, green apples and the way that the wood smelt burning in our camp fires. We cooked so many of those apples over the fire. I can still hear his soft voice, delicately and patiently describing how his grandmother would fix them.

"Fill the core of the apple with the brown sugar and cinnamon. Now wrap it in a large piece of heavy foil, twist the extra foil into a tail for a handle. Place the apple in the coals of a campfire and let cook 5 to 10 minutes, until softened. Be careful of the hot sugar - it burns like hades!"

We made love down by the lake, on a soft warm blanket with the stars blazing and glaring down upon us. We were alone, a thousand miles from nowhere and there was a difference in his laughter as he took me into his arms. That's where I became a woman and when I lost the innocence of my youth.

When I knew that he was resting in a deep sleep, I cried. I spent so many nights down by the lake crying and cursing up towards the sky. Sometimes I even screamed at the moon. I had came to the cabin to spend time alone, but instead I found myself falling in love with a man that I couldn't keep. A man who had bigger and better places to go...and he went. I watched him every step of the way.

The end of fall had arrived. As I made my journey down through the mountains, back into civilization and normal everyday life - I knew that a special part of my soul would forever remain there at the lake. I took only one glance back as I could so clearly hear the echo of a young boys laughter bouncing through the trees. Ricky is at peace now and my life has forever been changed.