The Bluff

It was my idea to have a picnic on the edge of the bluff overlooking the ocean on Gabriola Island. I had a friend who had a small resort on the island that was closed down for renovations. I thought it was the perfect place to have picnic lunch with Tom. It was supposed to be a romantic time. And it was. I packed my favourite wine (a nice Shiraz from Australia), pesto chicken paninis, prosciutto and cheese salad, strawberries dipped in chocolate and a banana. Because I eat about three bananas a day. I can't get enough of them. Tom was forever teasing me about my strange obsession with the yellow fruit.

We were sunning ourselves in the hot month of August, not a cloud in the sky, as we nibbled on our lunch. I was wearing my favourite pink and white gingham sundress. So I was feeling pretty, sitting like a lady of leisure staring at Tom. He looked attractive in his khaki shorts and white button down shirt. We were having an enlightening conversation about the metabolism of slugs—we're both insects fanatics, it's how we met. We were both members of Island Critters; a group that meets once a month to discuss the local insects and molluscs of the forests on Vancouver Island.

The first time we talked it was about carpenter ants and their destructive effect on the environment. We argued about whether or not they needed to be eradicated if a holiday home in the forest was infested with them. Tom pointed out natural ways to remove them from the home whereas I said one should just let nature take its course. I argued that if you built in the forest it's the risk you take. I was being obtuse because I liked how passionate he was being on the subject. We never did agree on the topic, but Tom asked if I wanted to go for coffee and I accepted his offer because I was enjoying our debate. That was two years ago.

As our picnic continued we moved to the subject of ants, next month's discussion with our group. I was looking forward to talking about our favourite ant hill by Westwood Lake. The ants were very active and always joyous to watch. We had many pictures of this particular hill. I thought that, maybe for fun, we could review them today under the hot island sun. My mind wandered and I was just about to mention the nasty bite I received last time we were there, but was distracted by Tom's odd behaviour.

For some unknown reason he seemed to be getting more and more agitated as our pleasant date was proceeding. He was fidgeting with the cork from the wine and licking his lips at an alarming rate. I thought maybe he was thirsty and asked if I could I get him some water from the basket. He declined my offer and stood abruptly, he was definitely out of sorts. This was not the level headed Tom I loved. I sat up and touched his hand, it was clammy. Was he sick? I asked him if he wanted to leave, he shook his head and mumbled something under his breath. I pulled him down to his knees and started to kiss him. I was feeling panicked about his odd behaviour and needed some reassurance. We were kissing, quite passionately I might add, on the blanket, when he stood up. He walked closer to the ocean and looked out at the view. I was a little hurt with his sudden departure from our ardent embrace. Was he going to break my heart on such a beautiful day? He turned around and looked at me with wild eyes.

“What is it Tom?” I asked.

“I love you Patrice,” he told me in a frantic voice. He was my sweet man and I loved him dearly and told him so. I felt overwhelming relief at his words. As long as we loved each other I knew we could conquer anything, including the troublesome problem Tom was so obviously struggling with. We got along so well and complimented each other I thought with a soft smile on my lips. I liked to think we were soulmates, a new age idea I know, but I felt it to be applicable to us. I remember on our first year anniversary he gave me a card with that word in it and I felt faint at the poignancy of it. Soulmates. Yes, that described our connection perfectly.

Tom rubbed his hands together. I noticed he looked somewhat calmer and...determined? What was my lovely man up to? I could not guess, but I braced myself. He looked at me with determination as he licked his lips. Such a strong man with a razor-sharp wit. His mind was like an aphrodisiac to me. He narrowed his eyes and I felt my heart beat at an erratic pace. He went down on one knee on the yellow summer grass. I felt faint.

“I love you Patrice,” he told me again, voice strong and sure. “I cannot imagine a day without you in my life. Therefore I think it's very reasonable that we deepen the bond of our relationship to one of matrimony. A winter marriage is what I thought, if you are agreeable. I find that the cold months are not conducive for us to search out little critters.” My eyes were wet as I accepted his proposal with a nod of my head. My throat was numb and I could not speak. The man made me breathless with his declaration. We usually went out a couple times a week to check out our small pests in the spring, summer and fall. The winter season was slow and would be a perfect time to marry. Always so sensible, my Tom.

I looked at him and imagined a little boy with brown hair and eyes just like my Tom. I was thirty-one after all and wanted to have children with him sometime in the near future. The big smile on his face was beautiful, and I felt like the luckiest woman in the world. He took a step towards me and his foot slipped out from underneath him. Arms flailing he toppled backwards off the bluff into the ocean. It was a soundless departure followed by a loud splash.

I sat for a moment, stunned and in shock. When my senses returned I scrambled to my knees and crawled to the edge of the bluff. I was scared to stand, afraid I might fall over myself. When I looked over the edge I saw Tom face down in the water, not moving. There were rocks below. Had he hit his head? I screamed his name over and over, but there was no movement. I couldn't rescue him, the cliff face went straight down for about twenty feet. Crying and helpless I turned around looking for my cellphone. It was then that I noticed my banana peel. I felt sick to my stomach when I realized what Tom had slipped on.