Nothing.
I felt nothing. Nothing but the cold twisting around my neck. My waist. An unwanted dance partner pulling me into its cold embrace. It chilled me, and yet I did not feel it. I shivered, an attempt to throw off its grip, but it would not let go.
The fog surrounding my mind didn’t mind the cold. It distracted away a million thoughts floating about my skull, yet none stuck.
Gray clouds blanketed the sky, keeping the sun to itself. The world around looked flat. Shadowless. An unfinished painting without highlights or contrast. A bland existence. I continued on.
The small lake lapped against frosted grass as the dull-green blades quivered and bent under the weight of the wind. I felt their cold. Their plight. Twisting the collar of my coat up I dug hands deep into coat pockets. My right hand touched it, and the fog was no more.
The empty feeling was no more.
My fingers twisted along the two bands of cold metal. My heart did the same. I thought of the joy of finding the perfect ring. How that joy amplified when the other was slid onto my own finger. I thought of The warmth I felt while I attempted to learn French for a proposal before altering the plan. The feeling of my heart bursting fireworks into my soul as I knelt down in front of her, asking her to marry me as I offered her the first ring. The feeling of that same heart, cracking and spilling like a yoke, slipping out of my body and into an emotional abyss as I learned of her unfaithfulness. The feeling of my heart’s banishment from this world and the next as she dropped it into my hand. A final goodbye. A final nail. La fin.
Standing at the foot of the lake tears stung my eyes, but I no longer knew whether they were from the cold or the sorrow. When there’s no heart left to beat perhaps it’s one and the same.
Pulling the pair of rings from my pocket, I let the two sit in my hand. Forever locked in my mind to what they had once represented, but what they could never again reclaim. Plucking the rings from my hand, I held them under the gray sky, fighting against the weight of the metal that didn’t exist. Platinum and diamond couldn’t compete with the emotional weight attached. The baggage of failure and despair. What once sparkled now fell flat.
The rings had sat in my office after the divorce. Every day sitting down for work the rings watched, as if my ex-wife might call. Might want to try again. Might want to start anew. But she never called, and the rings continued to watch. I could feel it. Every day the pair grew, taking up the space, the oxygen, my thoughts. I could no longer handle their presence.
Holding the rings to the sky, I closed my eyes. Every muscle in my being froze. Locked tight. She might still call. She might still return.
I don’t know what called to me, but as the lids of my eyes lifted I threw the rings. I heard a small “kerplunk” in the distance of the lake. I did not see where. And yet the relief in my chest let me know it did find its place in the icy water.
The Rings
The rings sank, their view of the world above clouded and murky and fading away. The two twist about each other like a dance frozen in time. Yet as darkness swallowed the rings their dance broke off. Their bands no longer touching. Now alone, separated, on their own from the other, they sank in isolation. Love now gone, each fell into a black abyss, so much like the man who threw them.
The diamond ring could feel the stone and sand it slid along, yet it did not care. It was not its partner. It only saw its use extinguished as it came to a rest on the sandy bottom. It did not know of the time that passed, nor the fish that swam by. It did not know of the world above, nor feel the temperature change with the seasons. The dead leaves falling down, the iced surface had no meaning. It had accepted its fate of being cast aside. A failed symbol of love. Of no use.
Without the love needed, it did not feel the sand cleared from its stone as lone aquatic life swam by. It did not feel lifted as a fish, probing for food, sucked it up after pulling in nearby pebbles. Unlike the pebbles, the fish could not expel the jewelry from its throat. Entangled in gills and blocking its throat, the fish fought in vain for its life. Poisoned by the ring’s presence, its eyes went still, its fins went idle, and what little oxygen remaining in the creature bobbed it to the surface.
The warm sun dried the creature as color faded from its scales. It followed the current, eventually sliding still onto a sandy patch.
Birds pecked at the fish. The summer heat did the rest. Scale and bone and flesh melted and tore free, but the ring remained. It remained until a man walked past, metal detector waving. The man, shoulders pulled forward not from the weight of his equipment but from the weight of time, stopped as his device beeped and whooped. Slowly dropping to his knees, joints burning, he let the dampness of the sand cool the fire burning in his legs. It left him out of breath. Slowly he dug, a gloved hand brushing away sand and bleached bone until he came across the origin of the beeps.
The ring.
To His Love
The old man turned the ring over in his hands. He didn’t need his failing sight to know what he held. Trembling fingers slowly traced the band. The stone he assumed to be a diamond absorbed his warmth. Absorbed his love. He closed his eyes. A tear he never thought would come slid from down his nose. He’d held back that one, salted tear of celebration for much of his life. He never had the money for a ring. His wife said she didn’t care. She didn’t need anything to represent her love for him.
They lived a simple life. A quiet life, but the thought of a ring for his beloved never escaped him. Every morning he went to the beach. To search. Every morning he returned home with nothing but a kiss to offer his wife. But this morning would be different, even if she would never know.
The bus ride couldn’t go fast enough. He knew every bump, every turn, every stop. Should his vision completely fade he wouldn’t have any problem knowing when to signal his stop. Or how many steps to the front door. The man signed in on the usual form. The woman at the desk reminded him of visiting hours.
He walked down the hall, passing the seven doors and a drinking fountain, before stopping at the eighth. He brushed his hair back with nervous fingers. As if meeting his wife for their first date. In many ways, he knew it would be.
Sunlight welcomed him into the room. A warm breeze came from the open window, tangling with the sweet words from his wife.
“Hello?”
The man didn’t hear the pumping of oxygen or the beep of monitors. It didn’t matter what his wife said. It filled his ears like love birds singing on a Saturday morning. It filled his mouth like the molasses of cookies she once baked for him. With her voice, he’d never need a heart monitor, because it’s all he needed to keep on beating.
“Hello, I’m sorry, do I know you?” his wife asked.
She asked the same question every day. The question once hurt, but now he looked forward to it. Because every day he could offer her his love in a completely different way.
“Why yes. Yes, we are good friends, Mabel.” The man sat down in the chair next to her bed. His eyes could no longer make out the lines of her face or the color of her eyes, yet he saw her clearer than life itself.
“Oh, okay, well that’s nice.”
“May I take your hand? I have something for you.”
“As long as your hands are warm. I do so not like cold hands.”
“As warm as fresh muffins.”
The man took his wife’s left hand. From his pocket, he produced the ring and slid it onto her finger. It stopped at the knuckle. He didn’t want to force it. She pulled her hand away from his and twisted it about. Of the things she had lost over the years, strong sight was not one of them.
“Oh it’s so beautiful”
“Do you like it?” The man asked, more nervous than he intended. He’d thought many times of sliding a ring onto her finger, but never thought it might happen.
“I do but...Well, do you see this? The finger you placed it on. My ring finger. It’s like we are married now.”
The man smiled.
“Would that be okay?”
His wife thought. “You’re kind. I think I’d like that.”
“I would too.”
The woman pushed the ring over her knuckle, held it closer to her eyes for a final inspection, then let her hand glide back into his.
“As your husband, may I give you a kiss?”
“That would be fine.”
The man stood from his chair and leaned in, kissing his wife on the temple. A lifetime of memories filled him from head to heart to soul, squeezing out the remaining tears of joy. She finally had a ring he’d always wanted to give.
Everything Returns
It was a small funeral. Peaceful. On a small hill overlooking trees and the lake below. The man and his wife had once visited the hill often, but not for a long time. He was glad they could be together on the hill one last time.
He sat for a long time after the service. After the few guests had left. After the diggers had finished. After the sun hand slid from one side of the sky to the other. Before leaving, he let his hand graze over the tombstone. He couldn’t see it very well, but his shaking fingers told him all he needed to. Her name felt nice.
He walked the slope slowly. A chill in the air caused the man to tighten his weathered jacket. The cold air brought with it smells of pine and cattails and water. He followed the familiar path, the path he’d taken every morning with his metal detector, before stopping at the small patch of sand. Every day he searched, looking to take away. Today, he would give back.
The man pulled the ring from his pocket. It had given him the one moment in life he never thought he’d receive. He smiled as his eyes fogged. More tears of joy he never thought he’d shed. Letting his thumb trace the ring one last time he threw the ring into the lake. A small “kerplunk” rang in the distance.
The cold of the water embraced the ring as it pulled it down into the sunless depths. The view of sky and life above faded. It didn’t feel the rock it slid across or the murky vegetation. It fell to sand, but when it came to a stop, something familiar touched it. Something cold and smooth. Something it had meant to be with for the rest of time. The other ring.
It nestled in along its long-lost partner. For how long they would wait neither knew, but together again, they would wait forever, because some things are just meant to be.
Beautiful and poignant.