A Road Not Taken…Divergence and Convergence (PG-13)
Posted: Fri Jun 10, 2011 3:47 pm
For Champagne Challenge #129. Sometimes, we take a different path, and while the journey varies, the destination may be much the same...
Two quick notes: I don't own much of anything. And, uh, this is a sad one.
A Road Not Taken…Divergence and Convergence
As Mick and Beth stood waiting, Josef slid open the doors to a spacious, well-appointed room, dominated by a large bed holding a still figure. He crossed over to the far side of the bed, looking down with haunted, sorrowing eyes at the woman sleeping there. All around the bed, medical equipment blinked and beeped, the soft whir of machines keeping her alive.
“Mick—Beth—this is Sarah. Sarah Whitley Fitzgerald,” he said, stroking the hair back from her forehead, gently.
Mick and Beth glanced at each other, astonished.
The woman lifted a withered hand, and laid it on Josef’s where he’d leaned over her on the bed.
“Charles?” she said, “Is that you?”
“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s me.”
“Is there someone with you?” She turned her head, sightless eyes searching in her blackness. “You never bring anyone here.” Her voice was almost inaudible, as though it was too much of an effort to speak.
“I brought a couple of friends. Mick St. John, and his—his friend, Beth Turner.”
Sarah smiled, her lined face lighting. “I’m so glad, Charles. Glad you have friends with you.” She directed her next comments to the newcomers. “Charles has told me so much about you, Mick, I feel as if I know you. You’re a good friend to him, I know. And Beth, I’m happy to meet you, too.”
Josef stroked her forehead again. “Sarah, you shouldn’t tire yourself out.”
“I’m all right.” She smiled up at him, even as her voice faded away. “I’m always all right when you’re here.”
“I want to talk to Mick for a minute; I’ll be right back, all right?” He signaled Beth to come closer. “Beth will stay with you.”
The old woman smiled, faintly, and murmured, “I love you, Charles.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
Beth thought she’d never heard his voice so gentle, or seen his face so alight.
Out in the hallway, Mick quirked an eyebrow at Josef. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“She’s my wife,” Josef replied flatly. “We married in 1955.”
Mick wiped a hand across his mouth, trying to process the information. “And you never told me about this?”
Josef smiled and shook his head. “We all have secrets, Mick.”
“Yeah, but—”
“I didn’t want her exposed to my world. She’s my haven, Mick. I knew, as soon as I met her, she was something special.” He looked up, unwilling for his friend to see what was in his eyes, but Mick could hear the pain in his voice. “I found out, before we’d been together six months, that she knew what I was—she knew, and she didn’t care.”
“Didn’t you—didn’t she—did you think about turning her?”
Josef smiled, and chuckled. “She begged me to do it. And I’ve got to say, I was tempted. But in the end, I—I couldn’t do it. She was so—human. And I didn’t want her to change.”
Mick nodded. “I know what you mean. It’s, uh, been on my mind lately.”
“Yeah, it would be, wouldn’t it?”
“She’s been in New York, all this time?”
Josef began to pace the hall. “No, of course not. We had to make sure her father never found us. And…after the apparent age difference started to show, she wouldn’t live with me.”
“That’s…rough.”
“Yeah, well. We were never really apart, for all that.” He seemed about to say more, but Beth appeared in the doorway.
“Josef—I think you need to come in here.”
He moved fast, coming again to the bedside of his beloved, taking in her white hair and lined face, the shallow rise and fall of her chest. He knew it was almost time, almost time for them to say a last goodbye. He cursed himself for the decision they’d made, long ago, to let her age, naturally, and come to this final end. She was right, she had been right, all those years ago. She could be, even now, the same vibrant young woman she had been in 1955. Maybe he was a coward. Maybe he should have taken the chance.
He fell to his knees by the bed, staring at her face. Her bright green eyes had faded into blindness several years before, and she’d teased him that she didn’t mind—she knew his face, his loved face, would never change. He clasped her hand, taking some comfort from the faint pressure of her hand on his.
“Sarah…”
Her chest rose, and fell, and did not rise again. She had slipped away, and left him, at last, behind. Josef stood, slowly, holding her hand in his. Mick and Beth were still, respecting his grief in these first moments of loss.
They were still standing in a silent tableau, when the window exploded inward…
Two quick notes: I don't own much of anything. And, uh, this is a sad one.
A Road Not Taken…Divergence and Convergence
As Mick and Beth stood waiting, Josef slid open the doors to a spacious, well-appointed room, dominated by a large bed holding a still figure. He crossed over to the far side of the bed, looking down with haunted, sorrowing eyes at the woman sleeping there. All around the bed, medical equipment blinked and beeped, the soft whir of machines keeping her alive.
“Mick—Beth—this is Sarah. Sarah Whitley Fitzgerald,” he said, stroking the hair back from her forehead, gently.
Mick and Beth glanced at each other, astonished.
The woman lifted a withered hand, and laid it on Josef’s where he’d leaned over her on the bed.
“Charles?” she said, “Is that you?”
“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s me.”
“Is there someone with you?” She turned her head, sightless eyes searching in her blackness. “You never bring anyone here.” Her voice was almost inaudible, as though it was too much of an effort to speak.
“I brought a couple of friends. Mick St. John, and his—his friend, Beth Turner.”
Sarah smiled, her lined face lighting. “I’m so glad, Charles. Glad you have friends with you.” She directed her next comments to the newcomers. “Charles has told me so much about you, Mick, I feel as if I know you. You’re a good friend to him, I know. And Beth, I’m happy to meet you, too.”
Josef stroked her forehead again. “Sarah, you shouldn’t tire yourself out.”
“I’m all right.” She smiled up at him, even as her voice faded away. “I’m always all right when you’re here.”
“I want to talk to Mick for a minute; I’ll be right back, all right?” He signaled Beth to come closer. “Beth will stay with you.”
The old woman smiled, faintly, and murmured, “I love you, Charles.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
Beth thought she’d never heard his voice so gentle, or seen his face so alight.
Out in the hallway, Mick quirked an eyebrow at Josef. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“She’s my wife,” Josef replied flatly. “We married in 1955.”
Mick wiped a hand across his mouth, trying to process the information. “And you never told me about this?”
Josef smiled and shook his head. “We all have secrets, Mick.”
“Yeah, but—”
“I didn’t want her exposed to my world. She’s my haven, Mick. I knew, as soon as I met her, she was something special.” He looked up, unwilling for his friend to see what was in his eyes, but Mick could hear the pain in his voice. “I found out, before we’d been together six months, that she knew what I was—she knew, and she didn’t care.”
“Didn’t you—didn’t she—did you think about turning her?”
Josef smiled, and chuckled. “She begged me to do it. And I’ve got to say, I was tempted. But in the end, I—I couldn’t do it. She was so—human. And I didn’t want her to change.”
Mick nodded. “I know what you mean. It’s, uh, been on my mind lately.”
“Yeah, it would be, wouldn’t it?”
“She’s been in New York, all this time?”
Josef began to pace the hall. “No, of course not. We had to make sure her father never found us. And…after the apparent age difference started to show, she wouldn’t live with me.”
“That’s…rough.”
“Yeah, well. We were never really apart, for all that.” He seemed about to say more, but Beth appeared in the doorway.
“Josef—I think you need to come in here.”
He moved fast, coming again to the bedside of his beloved, taking in her white hair and lined face, the shallow rise and fall of her chest. He knew it was almost time, almost time for them to say a last goodbye. He cursed himself for the decision they’d made, long ago, to let her age, naturally, and come to this final end. She was right, she had been right, all those years ago. She could be, even now, the same vibrant young woman she had been in 1955. Maybe he was a coward. Maybe he should have taken the chance.
He fell to his knees by the bed, staring at her face. Her bright green eyes had faded into blindness several years before, and she’d teased him that she didn’t mind—she knew his face, his loved face, would never change. He clasped her hand, taking some comfort from the faint pressure of her hand on his.
“Sarah…”
Her chest rose, and fell, and did not rise again. She had slipped away, and left him, at last, behind. Josef stood, slowly, holding her hand in his. Mick and Beth were still, respecting his grief in these first moments of loss.
They were still standing in a silent tableau, when the window exploded inward…
ok, gotta love this comment.
This has got me mulling over the ramifications.
and very believable. It left me wondering though about what Beth and Sarah might talk about.....