Life Goes On

There was something about the way sunlight hit snow. Something overly bright, and quiet about it. It was as if in that moment the world was still, and Walter could use a still world right about now. He usually resided in New York, where people were always moving. Always rushing. Walter often mused to himself about this, “Rushing to get to nowhere” he would say. 

He works for a very successful stock company, and while he’s very good at what he does, he feels suffocated by numbers and the loudness of the city. So loud, sometimes he can barely hear himself think. Now thirty-five, he is quite handsome. He stands at 6’4 with fair skin, short curly dark brown hair and light brown eyes. He has a long face with a softly shaped jaw, small nose and average sized lips.

On vacation, Walter is residing in Georgia. Staying in a beautiful and large log cabin surrounded by the Blue Ridge Mountains. Today, like every day before since he arrived at the cabin four days ago, Walter welcomes the quiet cool crisp morning; while sitting on his spacious screened-in porch. The beauty of the sunrise against healthy green treetops that stretch on forever, have not ceased to be a welcome sight. Especially when compared to ugly cracked apartment buildings, busy loud traffic and the sound of hundreds of feet against pavement. He takes a deep breath, delighted by the smell of nature, taking a sip of coffee after. 

He walks toward the door of the porch, and looks down the stairs toward the snow that covers the stairs and ground. Though, some of the snow has begun to melt after it last snowed a few days ago. He turns to walk back into the cabin when something bright catches his eyes, he squints as the sudden glimmer of light stuns him. He closes his eyes involuntarily for a moment. When he opens them again, he looks toward a melting snowbank that's a few yards away. He pats his shirt for the glasses he hates using, and uses them to notice something gold sticking out of the small melting mound. 

“Now I wonder what that could be.” He muses to himself. He moves to set down his coffee on the banister and opens the screen door. Carefully walking down the wet steps, he keeps his eye on the glimmer. In a short time, Walter is staring down at what caught his eye. He bends down to pick it up and notices that it had once been buried. He suspects some type of animal was digging and unearthed the gold object. He reaches his left hand out to pick up the object and realizes it’s an oval shaped locket. 

“Quite pretty, what are you doing here?” He places the locket in his shirt pocket before standing up quickly, giving himself a slight head rush. He shivers, realizing he’s only wearing a grey button down shirt, blue jeans and his snow boots. He rushes back toward the cabin, grabs his coffee and takes a welcomed hot gulp. He steps to the front door and wipes his boots on the mat. Once inside, he moves passed the small open kitchen and toward the large fireplace in the living room. He settles into the soft midnight blue colored sofa and enjoys the heat from the fire. He pulls the locket from his pocket and turns it over. Though it still shines brightly, there are a number of scratches all around it. Especially near the opening, where Walter suspects someone used a nail quite often to open it. 

“Let’s see what history you’re holding.” Walter breathes out, gently opening the locket. A small piece of paper that was stuffed inside falls into his lap. However he pays it no mind at first, as he stares at the only picture inside the locket. It’s of a beautiful woman, no older than twenty. The picture is black and white, which lets Walter know the locket along with the beautiful woman are both quite old now. She almost reminds him of his own mother, who he lost very young. He smiles softly. The woman in the photo has thick curly hair and a heart shaped face with full lips and a button nose. She wears a shy smile at whoever is taking the photo of her, but her eyes are piercing. They’re big and gentle, full of happiness for whoever she’s looking at.

He tears his eyes away from her to look down at the crumpled up piece of paper. He picks it up, and opens it carefully so as not to rip it. Once he has it open, he finds the words “come home to me.” scrawled in small script handwriting. Signed EAB. 

“EAB… I wonder who you were, and who you were waiting for.” He stares at the woman's picture, and finally looks at the left side of the locket that has R + E scratched into it. He stares at the letters, lifting a finger to lightly trace the letters. 

“Hmm, you were waiting for R then. Did he come home, Miss EAB?” He places the locket and the small paper on the brown coffee table in front of him. He stares at the soft gold of the locket and smiles sadly, thinking of his mother. What he wouldn't give to have the noise of the city drown out his thoughts. He shakes his head, rubbing his eyes, feeling suddenly tired. Well, I hope they found each other, Walter thinks to himself. He settles back into the sofa and closes his eyes. 

Suddenly, his back pocket begins to vibrate and Walter fights the urge to sigh loudly. His cell phone, a piece of the city he couldn’t leave behind. He wonders if it’s his boss, begging him yet again to forgo the rest of his vacation to help land a big account. He does sigh after a moment and reaches for his phone. He holds it in front of him and peeks one eye open to check the caller. With relief, he sees it’s the homeowner he’s currently renting this cabin from. 

“Hey George! What’s up man?” Walter answers cheerfully. George is a simple, honest man and pretty funny. 

“Walt, my guy, just wanted to check in. Need anything?”

“I’m fine George, thanks. Though, I have a strange question.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I found an old gold locket, it has the picture of this beautiful young woman in it, and a piece of paper signed-”

“EAB.” George interrupts Walter, and he sounds like he's smiling.

“Yeah.... Yes, how’d you know?” 

“She was my great grandmother.” 

A short silence ensues. Walter unsure of what to reply, clears his throat, “Sorry George.”

“For what? I’m surprised it’s even still there. We always have some critter digging.”

Walter doesn’t reply again, thinking of some way to ask him what happened. Why his great grandmother wrote “come home to me.”

“Want to know the story? It’s a sad one, like the best ones tend to be in the end. Shakespeare knew what he was doing with those tragedies eh?”

Relieved, Walter smiles, “If you don’t mind.”

“Evelyn Anise Baker was her name, and his name was Roger. My great grandparents met during the war. World war I, they had been good friends for a long time and in love for longer. Before he was supposed to go to war, they found out she was pregnant. She was twenty, and he was twenty-three. My great grandma gave him the locket, he died in the war. A piece of her died with him I think, but not the love, all she got back was her locket. She was devastated of course, but she had the baby. A healthy beautiful boy. Eventually when she was twenty-eight she married and placed the locket away. Some things are too heavy to carry, especially alone, even after so much time.” George sighed. 

“Why’s it buried here?”

“It seemed like a nice place, I like to think they would have lived in a cabin like the one you’re in. In love and away from anything that could hurt them. Life is not kind, sometimes it takes more than it gives.”

“Yeah, sometimes it does. I’ll put it back for you George. Thanks.”

“Thank you Walt, truth be told I forgot about it. Nice to remember the past, even if it ain’t so pretty.”

Walter scoffs, nodding his head as if George can see him, “We still on for the game tomorrow night?”

“Yes sir, I got the beer.”

“Cool, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Later.” George says. Walter leans forward to pick up the locket. He hears the click of the phone call ending. He sighs looking down at the shy smile and the big happy eyes.

“I bet you didn’t dream life would give you one love while taking away another. I’m sorry Mrs. Baker. Loss is hard to live with, isn’t it? It's the one thing that stays with us, until the very end.” Walter folds the paper up, and stuffs it back inside the locket before taking a final look at Evelyn. He snaps the locket closed and holds it tightly in his hand. He slips the locket in his pocket and walks toward the kitchen. He grabs a red and two white roses from a nearby vase on the kitchen table.

Grabbing his jacket, he steps outside with the flowers and breathes in. Enjoying the smell of nature again. He walks toward the mound from earlier. Takes the locket from his jacket and presses it slightly deeper into the soil. He buries the locket and places both of the white roses on top of the small dirt mound. He hovers over it for a moment, holding the red rose in his right hand, before looking out to the treetops and smiling sadly.

"I miss you ma, happy birthday."