Writer’s Note: Off to a good start! I fulfilled my first promise which was to begin this project on September 1. One down, 183 to go. 913 words written in 57 minutes.
Daylight ended fast on the river. Like the men who worked the waters, daylight didn’t play much. The sun was up and then within five minutes, she could be behind the mountains and you in darkness. And once in darkness, it was best to just sit tight. There was no getting off the river once daylight left you.
Many of these men learned that the hard way. Thinking themselves to be invincible they always tried once to leave the river’s shores after dark. Only to be caught in tentacle bushes on moonless trails, where eventually, you had to give up and just sleep right there. That cold earth your pillow. And bed.
At dawn, another man would find you, kick you and laugh at the fact you were mere yards from your truck home. And the river? She laughed too.
The river didn’t like to be left. Used all day by the men for her bounty of fish and quarry, she always wanted one to stay behind. On occasion she even took one down to her depths. There were parts of the river that went so deep, prehistoric fish were rumored to dwell there.
These men knew that. The river they rode and the daylight that shone, these were their lady loves. Their bitches. Their great affairs. Daylight and river ruled their part of their world. And their world was hard.
Things were learned the hard way in this area. People were grown the hard way, too.
Smiles were a rare sight in the bars. People drank to forget their days. It was the way the town that worked the river had always been.
Until today.
Today, I came back.
I came back to this town that raised me up and taught me hard things the hard way. I came back from being in parts of the world where smiles came freely, laughter echoed off ceilings and human touch was encouraged. I came back for love.
I knew walking into McGee’s that I’d cause a stir. Those steely eyes would watch me and wonder where I’d been. And why the hell was I back here.
“Why the hell are you back here, girlie,” Rod Henry asked peering over his whiskey.
I could hear the room pass around the whisper that I was that little Devon girl grown up. The Devon child that had taken off and now was back. I had prepared myself for weeks for this. I walked into small town bars and allowed hardened eyes to glare at me. I worked to keep my focus on my goal and not tear up or run.
“You came back for love,” I affirmed in my head. “You came back for love.”
A love that was standing at the end of the bar. The far end. Not moving at all towards me. One hand on the bar grasping his drink. The other shoved into his faded jeans.
I always noticed his hands first. I loved those hands. They were callused, hard-working hands that once upon a time had delicately touched me. Touched me gentle and soft in this hard place.
I took a breath and watched those hands as I moved closer to the end of the bar.
I felt like I was trying to corner a feral cat. I needed to move slowly or he’d bolt. I knew his eyes were upon me, never leaving me as I walked the length of the bar.
“You came back,” he stated in such a way that made me smile.
“Yes. It appears others have noticed it too,” I said lightly. Lightly anywhere else in the world but here in this place it sounded like Broadway refrain.
“You came back for love,” I affirmed in my head. “You came back for love.”
I was within touching distance now. But I didn’t touch. I just looked. I looked at that face with those blue eyes and a mouth which once told me to leave here.
He coughed slightly and tilted his head. “Why are you back?”
The words held tight in my throat. I, too, had practiced the answer to this question for weeks.
“You came back for love,” I affirmed in my head. “You came back for love.”
“For you,” I squeaked out in a voice not practiced. “For you.”
I wish I could tell you all that happened in the two excruciating minutes I stood there. In my mind, there were cymbals crashing and trains running off tracks, thousands of glass walls shattering. But I stood there without moving. In silence.
I had learned hard things growing up and in this moment, I knew God had given it all to me for this. To stand here in front of him… hard… waiting for an answer.
Two minutes of feeling everything rise up and fall inside me like waves. Waves on that river. That river who never wanted to lose one of her men unless she took him.
Two minutes of feeling hope and despair. Belief he would give a yes and then, oh wait, a no. Like the daylight here, it rose light and went dark over and over inside of me.
Two minutes I stood hard for a lifetime of soft loving.
Two minutes before he moved his hand out of his pocket and reached for mine.
“Then, let’s go,” he whispered close to my ear, kissing my cheek.
And as we walked out, I saw smiles in that bar. And I knew some finally drank to celebrate.
#30
© 2009 Jeny M. Dowlin
