A Secret Kept

Shaking my head I read the letter once more, then stuff it into an envelope, gently placing it in the inside pocket of my jacket. I should leave it here but decide to take it with me, in case I am wrong. Either way, they will find out soon enough. I will have at least forty-five minutes, enough time for a walk on the beach. I make the call, say what is needed then hang up, glancing into my wife's room before stepping out I whisper, “I'll see you soon."

The tides at Parksville recede for at least a kilometer, exposing the sand and trapping ocean life in little pockets of water. It was on this beach that we first fell in love, at least I did, she came around shortly after. Maybe she felt sorry for me, after all, as Yoda would say, 'Empathy is strong in this one.' Yeah, she married a Star wars nerd. We spent many a holiday here, strolling hand in hand, exploring, filling our lungs with the fresh salt air, being part of something larger than ourselves. We loved it so much we finally purchased a home on the oceans edge of this sleepy little village.

Little did we know the walks would be few, our time together cut short, a marriage torn. A drunk driver took care of the first part; a broken promise took care of the rest.

It was ....

Barefoot I step onto the damp sands, venturing out as far as I dare. When the tides return, they return with speed. Many a visiting soul have lost their lives to the rising waters, sucked out to sea, some bodies recovered, some forever lost into the vastness of the bounding main.

The haunting call of the gulls send a shiver through me, I watch as they swoop and dive, claiming any stranded morsel for themselves. On one of our visits, as we were meandering about on the shore, one of these large flying rodents dropped excrement upon my head. I was so angry I began to curse, but was cut short by the sounds of laughter, she was in such a fit of giggles that I had no control and had to join her. ‘It's good luck to be shite upon by a bird’ she informed me. Holding out my arms, going in for a hug I replied. 'Maybe I should share this good luck with you.' We proceeded to race down the beach, her just out of reach, until she suddenly stopped. Her eyes were staring at a house for sale, our future home. This forevermore became our good luck beach.

I check my breast pocket, confirming the letter is still there.

The autumn air is cool, but the setting sun is bright, it leaves a warmth on everything it touches. The expanse of water is endless, tiny ripples flow as waves begin the trek back. I sit on an exposed rock, and think of her, always of her. This is where she is, I feel her strongest when I smell the salt water, feeling the light spray as it dampens my face, I hear the wind carry her voice. The mountains in the distant horizon frame the water into a perfect picture post card. Vancouver island has a seductive way of enticing someone to stay, we were seduced away from the flat prairie land with endless waves of wheat to the rainy west coast of Canada. We swapped one type of ocean for another, we were home.

I grab a fist full of sand, with a gentle massage it crumbles through my fingers, trickling away like the moments we have left in this world. Closing my eyes, I wonder how it all fell short of our expectations. Unable to have children, we were supposed to grow old together, wake up and discuss world affairs over coffee, go for walks along the beach, hand in hand forever. Forever isn’t as long as we think.

It was only ....

My head feels heavy, I should make my way back, by my reckoning I have around twenty-five minutes left. Rising to my feet, I see a silhouette emerging from the horizon. The setting sun casts a glow enhancing her figure, there is a halo of light radiating from her face like that of an angel. I do not feel like talking, so, I turn and begin the walk to our home, I need to hurry, I’m cutting it close.

Amongst the echoing cry of a raven and hush of the ocean waves I hear a voice like that of my wife. “Good evening, I thought I was the only one out here tonight.”

Stopping in mid step I turn to politely, but firmly say good night, but her smile disarms me in a way that has only happened once before. I married that smile. Instead, I hear myself reply. “Good evening.”

With no apparent fear of strangers, this lady glides forward until she is but a few feet away, her mannerism with the way she tilts her head and holds herself is as familiar to me as breathing, she is my wife in appearances, except where as my wife was a dark haired beauty this women has golden curls that catch the suns rays and her eyes are a pale blue, unlike the hazel eyes that I gazed into for the last seventeen years.

Holding out her hand she introduces herself. “Hi, I’m Angela.”

The world around me starts to shimmer, like those invisible waves hovering over hot pavement I begin to chuckle. With a quizzical look she asks, “Is my name funny to you?”

Taken back by my poor social behavior I stumble out. “No, my apologies. It’s just that your name is the same as my wife’s, it caught me off guard.” I lift my hand in a friendly wave, it feels heavy and takes concentration to steady myself. “Nice to meet you, I don’t mean to sound rude, but I must be on my way.”

“I came out here looking for sand dollars and geoducks.”

A little surprised, my only response is. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I was told it’s a must when the tides are out. In truth I have no idea what I am looking for, this is my first time to this place.”

My eyes quickly dart around, like a rock crab scurrying beneath little hideaways in the sand. Bending down I pick up a white circular disk shape object, with four tiny holes around the edge and a star shape in the center. I twirl it in my fingers, hypnotized. I hear myself mumbling, “My wife says the legend of the sand dollar is related to Christ. This emblem in the middle is the star of Bethlehem and the holes represent the wounds after the crucifixion.” I hand her the disk.

“It’s beautiful.”

“If you pry it open there are five dove shapes with in it, my wife would…..look, it’s just a mollusk, nothing more. I really must leave.”

I don’t take more than two steps when I hear her voice sing out. “Where is your wife?”

My mind reels, instinctively I reach for the letter, it hurts yet soothes me to feel the folded edges. Memories once pushed down, rise again. A mere shadow of the woman I love, confined on a bed, tubes invading her body, machines hissing and beeping. Her beautiful eyes remain closed as they had been for the past eleven months. I watch her, never leaving her side unless I have too. Holding her hand, I read to her, describing the daily changes of the ocean through her bedroom window, pleading with her to wake up.

I brought her home, no longer wanting her to be left in a sparse cold environment of the hospital. I needed to be with her.

It was only a ....

I feel my shoulder droop, without turning around I say. “She had to leave.”

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that, it would have been nice to meet her, maybe some other time?”

Nodding my head, I turn and force a smile. “You would like her, everyone does. Are you on vacation?"

Glancing back to the waters, she replies. "No, it's more of a business thing."

My eyes are heavy. “I am sorry but I should be going.” Unfortunately, I may have misjudged the time, as I suddenly find myself woozy with the need to sit down, which I do, plopping unceremoniously on the damp sand.

Angela, kneels beside me, reaching out she holds my hand, her face is serene, beautiful. “Are you alright, can I help you?

Shaking my head, I answer quickly. “I’m good, just a little embarrassed, tripping like that.”

I can tell she doesn’t believe me. “Are you suffering from something; do you need medication?”

Do I suffer from something? Yes, guilt.

Do I need to take medication? I chuckle once more. I already have. I can see it clearly, the empty bottle of pills on the nightstand. Taking a deep breath, I manage to mumble. “No, I’m fine, just tired, I didn’t eat today, that’s all.”

Or yesterday for that matter. My heart is beating like I have just consumed seven shots of espresso.

“Ok, Lets rest here for a moment.” I see her glancing back towards the incoming tide, knowing we do not have a lot of time.

“You should go, I will be fine.” I try to convince her.

Her pale blue eyes comfort me, in an angelic voice I hear her say. “I am not going any where, I will stay with you by your side.”

‘Stay with you, by your side.’ I said those words once, I meant them, yet I broke my word.

It was only a kiss.

I try to joke. “That isn't necessary, I am sure you have things to do, places to go, people to see."

"I am where I want to be. Tell me about your wife, why did she have to leave?"

Why did my wife have to leave? Because no one could do anything to help. Her family begged me to let her go, we need to move on they would say. The only thing keeping her here are the machines and my stubbornness, they would remind me. They would argue, I was being selfish. My argument to them was, she's fighting, so why shouldn’t I?

“I wanted her to stay."

I wasn’t alone with this, there was one other who stood vigilant with me. Day in day out we would be there, taking turns supporting each other. One day while we were both grieving, I am not sure how it happened. One moment we're crying and holding each other, comforting one another. It was only a kiss, nothing more, but it ended up being more. I never had thoughts of being with another, ever. I broke the trust. Once was all it was and once was enough. After the deed, no words were spoken, she quietly left, only shame remained, lingering in the air with every breath I took. Returning to my wife’s room to sit by her side, was I going to confess?

I think I was, but she couldn’t hear my words, she was gone. At the very end I wasn’t there. Maybe she opened her eyes to say farewell and found herself alone, at the end she was alone.

My heart is racing, I can feel the blood rushing through my veins, the world is spinning, I feel like I am sinking into the sand. Frantically I reach for the letter and hold it out. “Be sure my family gets this please.”

Without opening it, without reading it she asks. “Who will this benefit?” And places it back in my hand, folding my fingers with care around the paper.

Crushing the envelope, I whisper. “Me, I think. They need to know I betrayed…”

She smiles, holds out her hand and says, “Walk with me, It is time to bring you home.”

Reaching out, I take her hand, she pulls me up like I am air. We begin the journey, glancing back for one last look I am not surprised when I see no footprints in the sand. My body lay spread out welcoming the incoming tide, it bobs and floats gently upon the glistening waters and white foam. Strong flowing waves reach out, weaving through my opened fingers, accepting the unread letter. I watch as the crumpled paper floats along with the tide, slowly drifting away.