Twelve Down

It has been said that our futures are determined by the choices we make, and that fate’s whims can be decided by the smallest of things.  For want of a nail, the shoe was lost.  For want of the shoe, the horse was lost.  For want of the horse, the rider was lost.  For want of the rider, the battle was lost.  And for want of the battle, the war was lost.  All for a horseshoe nail.

Most of us are unaware of the consequences of the choices we make.  In the proverb above, would even the most astute observers of history be able to point to that one blacksmith making one fewer nail as the single event, the one choice that changed the course of human events?  Likely not.  But what about in our own lives?  Looking back, can you point to a single event where you made a choice that at the time seemed completely inconsequential, but changed the course of your life completely?

I do not bring this up to fill you with fear, dear reader, nor cause you to lock up with constant indecision.  We cannot see these events for what they are in the moment.  There is no point in asking ourselves when we’re at the checkout counter whether our decision to make an impulse purchase will alter the course of our lives forever.

But I can tell you, looking back, it was precisely such a choice that changed my life.  I had been at a local coffee shop, you see.  I’d made my selection, my coffee and that delicious pastry I favored, and then something caught my eye.  “Let me have a copy of the newspaper as well,” I said, on a whim.

I can hear you now.  Yes, I’m aware almost no one bothers with those anymore.  But, you see, I’ve always been a fan of puzzles, and our local paper’s crossword section had occupied many a lazy summer during my school days.  I hadn’t bought one in years, but on that day, nostalgia pulled at me.

Instead of going straight home, I sat down with my treat, and opened the paper to my puzzle, and in so doing, I had made my choice.  “Ash,” a voice said perhaps an hour later, rousing me from my fugue.

“What?” I’d asked.

“Twelve down.  Eyjafjallajökull is a volcano in Iceland.  So its fallout would be ash.”  I looked up from my puzzle into the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen.  Her hair was onyx, and her skin pale, with only the barest kiss of the sun upon her nose.

“T-Thanks,” I managed to stammer after realizing I’d been gaping at her for an embarrassing amount of time.

She smiled at me, and my heart skipped several beats.  “You are quite welcome,” she said.  “If you’re going to be working on that for a bit longer, perhaps you’d like some company?”

I would have been a fool to turn down her offer.  “Yes, of course,” I said.

We worked on the puzzle for a bit, though eventually that too was forgotten and we spent several hours just chatting.  Of course, we bought more coffee.  I couldn’t be rude to the baristas at my favorite shop, taking up a table for hours without at least spending a bit more money.

It was already late afternoon when I became aware of how much time had passed.  “Oh no!” I said in startled realization.  “I’m late for my meeting.”

We bid our farewells, and the woman, Delphine, wrote her number down on a napkin for me to call later.  I carefully tucked it into my coat pocket, unaware at the moment that my fate had changed completely already.  But let us not get too ahead of ourselves.

I made a call and rescheduled my missed meeting, then went in to the office.  My boss was understanding.  Jerry was a great guy like that.  Of course, he’d made me promise that I’d name my firstborn after him, should that end up in my future with Delphine.  “Maybe I’ve misjudged you,” I told Jerry.  “Isn’t it the evil spirits in folklore that demand one’s firstborn?”

“Not at all, Rick,” he’d answered back with a glint in his eye.  “In fact, it’s usually the tricksters who make such demands.  And we’re not evil.  Just mischievous.”

On Thursday, I called Delphine.  “It’s just, well, my boss gave me these tickets, you see,” I’d told her.  “But he had to go out of town and can’t use them.  So he gave them to me so they wouldn’t go to waste.  So I was wondering if you’d like to come see this comedian with me.”

“That sounds lovely,” she’d answered.  “Pick me up at seven?”

“Seven it is,” I agreed.

I could barely concentrate at work the next day, thinking about little other than my date with Delphine on Saturday.  Jerry had been happy for me, of course.  “I’m heading to the airport,” I remember him saying after he came into my office that afternoon.  “Make sure you finish typing up the Johnson contract before you head home, loverboy,” he’d teased.  “And don’t forget to get me an autograph.”

That was my end of our deal.  He gave me his tickets so I could take out lovely Delphine, and in exchange, I’d promised to pick up some kind of swag after the show and get it autographed.  “Jerry, who are you talking to here?” I’d answered.

“The man who forgot he had a meeting with one of our best clients the other day because he was having coffee with a pretty girl.  The same pretty girl who will be with him at the comedy club on Saturday.”

Okay, I guess that was a fair point.  “I won’t forget,” I promised.

“There’s a good lad.  Try not to burn down the office while I’m gone.”

That weekend, I went on my date with Delphine.  I barely remember the comedian’s routine.  What I do remember is the sound of her laughter.  Bright peals that made my heart sing with joy, like a silver bell on Christmas morn.

I took her home, and we kissed goodnight.  The touch of her lips made my entire body tingle, and my soul felt a thousand times lighter as I drove home, though I already missed her.

The next weekend, we went dancing.  I’ve always had two left feet, but with her, I danced as I never had before.  We even got compliments from an older couple.  “It’s easy to tell when young people are in love,” the old woman said to me while I waited for Delphine to return from the powder room.

“In love?” I’d asked, startled.  “Do you think so?”

“It’s clear as day how you feel about her,” the old man had agreed.  “And while I’ve never been that good at telling how a woman is feeling,” he winked at his wife as he said this, “even I can see she absolutely adores you.  And the dancing tells the tale.  Your hearts are in sync.  That’s rare, especially in the young.  Even old folks like us rarely get there.”

“This old coot had to get a pacemaker to put our hearts in sync,” the woman said with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“That’s only because my heart skips a beat whenever I see you,” he’d said sweetly, causing her to smile.

Delphine returned and after a bit more dancing, once more I took her home.  And once more, our goodbye kiss – longer and much more passionate than the first – left me tingling all over.  It was probably all in my head, but I was pretty sure I couldn’t feel my feet afterward.

The third date, I invited her to my place for a home-cooked meal and some board games.  I asked if she had a preference as to what we ate, and she said that she’d always been partial to seafood.  She was in luck.  Bouillabaisse was a specialty of mine.

After dinner, we’d played some Scrabble.  It had started off as normal, then our words began to take on a flirtatious tone.  Before long, we were on the couch, the board game forgotten entirely.  And then we moved into the bedroom.

We made love for hours, and when it was done, I collapsed beside her on the bed.  Then I began to realize something was wrong.  I couldn’t feel my feet.  Or my hands.  My body wouldn’t respond to my commands.

She sensed my panic and arose from the bed.  “Don’t worry,” she said.  “You will fall asleep soon.  And by the time you awaken, the numbness will have passed.  And you will have forgotten me.”  She touched her belly.  “Once I have found the last, and the thirteenth egg has been fertilized, I will lay them within the sea, at the bottom of the greatest depths.  Do not fear, though.  Our young take well over a hundred years to grow to maturity.  You will be long dead when my brood and I return to claim dominion over the land once more, as my mate Python and I had long ago, before your ancestor, Apollo, slew him and crushed our last clutch underfoot.”

In the dim light coming from the open doorway, I could see her eyes.  Once beautiful emeralds that sparkled in the night, I could see them now for what they truly were.  They were vertical slits, reflecting the light like the eyes of a cat.  Or a snake.

“You know.  I knew one of Apollo’s descendants was in this city.  But after months, I hadn’t been able to find you.  I guess it was lucky for me that you decided to do that crossword puzzle.”  She smiled, and I could see her forked tongue flick between her pointed, fanged teeth.

She left me there without another word, and I lay there for a time, trying to force my body to move.  Eventually, I managed to get my finger to respond.  Then another, and soon, the whole hand.  I reached, trying to find my phone.

But it was in the other room, along with my pants.  I struggled in vain, until, at long last, I found something.  It was an old dream journal.  So, remembering her warnings, I began to write.

I’m reaching my limit.  Sleep comes for me, and with it, oblivion.  I will not remember her tomorrow, she said.  So I’m writing this for myself, in hopes that when I awaken with it in my hand, I will recall even the merest fragment.

The world must be warned.  Delphyne must be found, before she seduces the thirteenth mate and retreats beneath the waves.  For the sake of humanity.  So we can save ourselves from the terrors of a long past age.

So please, Rick, when you read this in the morning, don’t ignore it as some kind of joke, or the ramblings of a man who drank an entire bottle of wine by himself.  The world is in danger.  You have to remember.  You must warn everyone.  You mu…