Smashed Pennies

The spring was hot, a glimmer into the heat summer would hold. After a lofty hike exploring the wooded trails along the river, we dipped into the cool water. The delightful chill washed away the warmth of the day.

Further down the river, a snake swam to the bank. I dropped below the surface. Moss and debris drifted past in the clear water. Then I popped up, inhaling and wiping the water and hair from my face. With a quick grin to my love, I sloshed through the water to a large boulder and scrambled atop it.

He joined me there to dry, splayed out like lizards in the sun. It was another adventure for our collection of memories. We had been looking at apartments the day before, contemplating our future. Our hands clasped together on the boulder. Lazy clouds floated past. He was my forever person, my best friend.

I no longer remember who said it, but one of us voiced it, "I want to marry you one day."

We had said it before, at different moments. Marriage was something we both yearned for. The great display of our promise. The thing school stood in the way of.

I was never one for following paths set by society; rules were all made up anyway. But, if we wanted to afford a wedding, we would need to finish college and work long enough to save up. He did not even have the money for a ring yet. That was the order to things, college, engagement perhaps during, marriage after, and then life. We would both be too poor for a while.

"My parents won't be able to contribute anything," I noted. My father would not come anyway.

"My mother will want to," he countered, gently.

"I don't need an expensive ring, not now. We're both broke," I offered. "Why can't we just get married now? Why does it have to be big and fancy?"

"We could. It doesn't have to be."

I sat up, and he did too.

That was right, the rules were all made up. We talked about it, what that would look like. We could just elope. It could be a small ceremony. The prospect was exciting. Of course, our families would not like that. But we could just keep it to ourselves, tell no one but a couple of friends. Maybe we would have a ceremony and legally get married later?

As we walked back to the car and drove to his parents' house for the night, we sat with the idea. Why wait to pledge yourself to the person you wanted to spend forever with? I did not need a big wedding for now, if ever. I just wanted us to be our own team.

On the drive home the following afternoon, he brought it up again. The road wove through endless fields of cattle pasture interrupted by the occasional dirt road or thin clusters of trees. On the right side, the railroad rang alongside us. Trains were a symbol of adventure, of unknowns, of running away together. It seemed fitting one dotted the foreground.

"Let's go ahead and do it, let's get married, legally," he said tenderly. Our hands clasped over the cup holder and his thumb swirled circles over the back of my hand.

Ladden train carts loomed ahead, then we were abreast the train. Slowly, we began to outpace it as we all barreled through the flat fields of Texas. Wildflowers, yellow, orange, and white, bobbled in the breeze along the highway.

One of us pointed out that we could get far enough ahead of the train to place some pennies on the track. I dug through our change to find older ones that would be solid copper. Anything before 1982.

His foot nudged the gas in encouragement, and we passed the train. Once a good distance was built between us, he pulled off on a dirt road crossing the railroad. There were plenty of roads like that spaced along the way, leading to rural houses. We rushed to set our pennies on the track.

I stepped back as the train barreled past, wind tossed up from it, the sun warm on my skin. When I turned around, he was knelt with a handful of wildflowers the colors of the sun.

"Will you marry me?" he asked officially. We had already decided, but there was still a magic to this bit of tradition. I hugged him as the train finished passing us.

Then we set to the warm tracks to find our pennies. It was difficult to find the far-flung pennies; only one stayed in place. We collected it and acknowledged the others as a loss.

"Quick! Get in the car, we can get in front of the train again," he encouraged.

Giggling, we hopped back in and rushed after the train. It was load heavy and slow going. We caught up and overtook it with ease.

This time, we placed more pennies, in case most were lost. As the train clicked past, he pulled me in for a lingering kiss. Once the clacking against the tracks faded, we parted. Eagerly, we collected the pressed pennies, blowing on the heated metal.

"One more time?" He asked me and I nodded. Back to the car for one final chase.

We repeated the dance and stood to the side to watch the train pass. This time, the conductor blew the horn and waved to us with a large grin. He had seen the proposal and kiss. He had borne witness to one of our most precious moments and shared in our delight. Blessed our love with a quick blast of the horn. Would he go home and share the story with his own partner?

For the final time, we collected the pennies. In the cool AC of the car, we looked over them and picked our favorites. Later, holes were drilled and jump rings attached so we could wear them about our necks. Our promise to each other.

Almost seven years later, and we still wear our pennies. On camping trips and summer swims, the copper is there, gleaming against our necks, staining our skin. I almost never see his come off.

Skin warmed pieces of copper mark the years of love and loyalty, more precious than any band of metal. I wonder if the conductor remembers that moment. If he could know how special that glimpse into the life of strangers was. But, perhaps for him, it was just another day.

**************************************************************************While this has been posted in Fiction in accordance with the Challenge rules, this story is non-fiction. It is the actual tale of my engagement to my sweet husband. We did tell our parents and have a small ceremony with family, that my mother-in-law kindly paid for most of.