The Journal in the Window

"She was my world."

The writing was faded on the pages of the moleskin journal. The book lay open: yellow deckle-edged melancholy against the flaking soft white of the window ledge in the abandoned house.

"She was my light."

How long it had lain there- 40 years according to Sebastian's letter- while the earth spun 1000s of times -sunrise sharp shafts of light lanced through the wavy-glass panes of the window to strike the once jet-black inky words fading them to almost gone.

"She was my everything."

I never met Sebastian in person but I knew him. I knew him from his letters.

Dry desert road empty except for me on my motorcycle. The dust was collecting on the edge of the world and the sunset promised to be beautiful.

"I could see her freckles best in the sunlight in the morning."

He said his name was Sebastian. He was 68 he was 100 he was dying.

I stopped to help him change a flat on that dry desert road. He was driving an old

blue Chevy Bellaire and while I was busy putting away the jack he must have put the box beside my bike.

We watched the sunset together and talked a bit.

"When someone you love dies, your love goes on and on and on. On and on."

He drove away. I stayed awhile until all the light was gone and the night air cooled. I found black moleskin with loose pages beside my bike. I looked up -- he was long gone by then. Why had he left the journal I wondered. I took it home with me.

I untied the strings holding the letters inside the old leather binding

And read:

"Dear Emma, I finished building the cabin... Soon I will be able to bring you here. I hope before winter. I have found some good color in the old mine. I'm keeping it in the box under the floorboard by the window. The window faces East so I can think of you when I look out.....

Dear Emma, I know why they call these the Mule mountains. You have to work like a mule to get anything out of them...Can't wait until I get enough so I can come get you and we can do all those things we dreamed about!

Dear Emma, my love I long to see you. I wish I could have gotten water closer by. I hope that in spring I will be able to bring water to the cabin. The San Pedro River is only about half a mile from the cabin. Then you could come and stay. We could make a start here.

Dear Emma, the winter has been long, but I am finding more color. There is more and more in the box under the floor...I can't wait for spring, I'll see how much I've dug out by then. We'll take it to the surveyors and have it weighed. Yours truly, Sebastian

Dear Emma...

I read all the letters. But what happened? Where was the cabin? Did Emma and Sebastian cash in the gold? What was the rest of the story? Had their dreams come true?

I scoured the library for history about mining in the area and old newspapers for articles for anything that mentioned an Emma and a Sebastian. I searched at the courthouse for old mining claims.

Then I saw the short article in an old newspaper from 1955. Emma Newcastle 28 wife of Sebastian Newcastle died in a car accident in Bisbee. That had to be him, that had to be her. That's all it said. What had happened? Had he cashed in the box under the floorboards?

I spent a lot of time riding my motorcycle and hiking through the mountains looking for that cabin. Why had Sebastian given me the letters? I couldn't help but feel like I was supposed to find something. I wanted to know the rest of the story.

"She was the sunlight in the morning."

Sunlight in the morning...East...she was east of the cabin. Bisbee was east of the cabin.

So the Cabin was West!

A week later I found the cabin. I had left my motorcycle a ways back when the riding got difficult and hiked for about half an hour when I noticed some tree stumps. I got closer these had been cut down by an ax . I felt a thrill of excitement. Someone a long time ago had cut a lot of trees down and now these old stumps were surrounded by later growth but could this mean someone had built a cabin nearby? I kept going. Slowly now my eyes scanning for any clue.

Then I saw it through some fallen trees. An outline that was manmade.

It was a small cabin tucked against the mountain behind it. A fallen tree in front of it obscured it from view. But I had caught a glimpse.

I tore at the dead branches partially blocking the thick wooden door and then I opened it.

I saw a single room with an old iron bed in one corner an old wood burning stove against a wall with a stovepipe going up through the roof. A small table a chair and there in the single window facing East was a black moleskin journal opened .

I could barely make out the faded writing.

Dear Sebastian, you are the love of my life. You dug into the heart of the mountain itself to find treasures to make our dreams come true!.

I lifted the floorboard below the window. There was the box.

Dear Emma, I miss you.

I took it out.

I opened the lid.

I counted the money inside the box. There was $20,000

I thought of Sebastian and how he had left me the moleskin journal of his letters and told me how true love goes on and on and on. On and on. I think he wanted me to find the cabin and the box.

And the matching black moleskin journal in the window full of the words of Emma's love.

Dear Sebastian, my love....