Walk of the Widower

“The time is now 7:30am the temperature is currently 26 degrees, chance of precipitation 80% with an accumulation of 6 to 8 inches.” The man rolled over and picked up his phone as the robotic voice continued into a list of headlines describing the news of the day. The voice was cut short as he unlocked his phone and examined the forecast with a furrowed brow. When he had went to sleep the night before it had been with the knowledge that the snow was not to start until noon and that the temperature would be at least 10 degrees colder. These new developments would certainly make his plans more difficult and he ground his teeth slightly as he thought.

The man rolled over hanging his legs off the edge of the bed as he mumbled indistinctly to himself. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as he let out rough sigh. Without thinking he reached behind to the other side of the bed laying his hand onto the soft flat surface. He let it rest there for a moment before pulling it back slowly, “Right” he said quietly to himself examining his palm as if to ensure it was real. Satisfied it was, he curled the fingers into a loose fist and stood, his bare feet making soft thuds on the cold hardwood as he walked to the window.

Throwing open the curtains the man squinted slightly as the white sheet reflected the early morning sun. After his eyes adjusted he could see that this new forecast hadn’t been entirely accurate either, an inch or so had already fallen during the night and even though it had stopped for the moment from his vantage point at the top of the ridge he could see the mountains on the other side of the lake behind a shroud of white. He glanced over the clearing surrounding the small cabin to the trail head at the edge of woods. Even in the snow the hike down shouldn’t be too bad he thought to himself. It wasn’t far to the lakes edge and the trail was well worn and easy to follow. It was the ice that gave him concern, it had been below freezing for a few days before but a layer of snow on top made him nervous. He’d heard about how snow could insulate the frozen surface thinning the ice beneath. Then of course there was the risk of hidden cracks and thin patches camouflaged by the fresh fall. He spent a moment trying to remember the equation he’d learned for determining ice thickness but gave up as his mind began to wander to other places.

He clacked his teeth together as he let go of the curtain turning back to the empty bed. It was a different than the one he’d slept in on his first visit. It had been a steel spring full sized mattress set on top of two army cots, a far cry from the king-sized oak thing that now rested in its place. He’d barely slept a wink on that old mattress and he had hated to find it was gone.

The man hadn’t found much the same when he’d arrived two days before, every bit of furniture had been replaced through the years as had the floors and fixtures. The only thing he’d found the same was the small stone fireplace, though a sign on the mantle stated it was now just for show. Despite the changes the memories still crept from every corner like shadows in a dark room. As he sat down again the sound of straining springs from that old bed reached through the years and with it the gentle touch of the one he’d shared it with.

He closed his eyes as he brought his hand to the place on his shoulder where hers would lay. There was nothing there now but his own bare skin yet he still turned over his shoulder to accept a kiss from her soft lips. “Better get going before the snow gets too bad,” he said to the memory as it began to fade.

He pulled his large duffle from the under the bed tossing the toiletry bag from the top onto the nightstand. He hadn’t bothered to open since he arrived and the bag made a rattling sound as the medication jostled in their bottles. It had been well over two years since the man had been hiking but he’d made sure to come prepared, thermal shirt and pants a new winter jacket and new boots he’d made sure to break to his feet before arriving. But none of that was as important as the small wooden box tucked safely and securely into the bottom.

He gently lifted and examined it, a name and date were etched into a brass plate on the front. The date was from 18 months before almost half as long as their marriage had been, though the last year had felt like ten as he watched his love slowly wither with her illness. As he carefully placed the box into the smaller hiking pack he pushed away the thought that the day would soon come when her years gone would be more than they’d had together.

He hoisted the pack and made his way down the small staircase passing the small bathroom. The memories crept in again as her soft singing passed over the running water of the shower. She’d had a beautiful voice that was only surpassed by her playing. Her love of music could have taken her anywhere he had often though if it had only been as strong as her love for him.

 He’d never told her he’d found the letter of acceptance to the conservatory. It had been a few months after their first visit to the cabin and a little over year into them dating. He’d found the letter in her dorm room as she was getting ready for a date. It had been sticking out from a stack of papers and being a selfish young man he couldn’t help but read it. For the next few months he waited for the conversation, but it never came. He’d considered bringing it up himself a few times, he knew she could tell something was wrong, he done little to hide his selfish disappointment. Each time the moment presented itself though, he lost his nerve. The following fall she had decided to change her major to music education. “The conservatory didn’t work out,” she’d told him, “but since I can’t do, I might as well teach. Besides I wouldn’t be cut out for the starving artist thing,” She said all of this with a smile of course and if she had any regrets she hid them well and never let them show.

The man shut the door but he didn’t bother to lock it, everything that meant anything to him he was already carrying, he looked back at the old A-frame cabin. They’d decided to come up on a whim one weekend in January, “let’s go on an adventure”, she had said and booked the cheapest cabin a college sophomore afford. His old compact beater had barely made it up the rutted mountain road and they spent the first night freezing unable to start a fire. His frustration and anxiety had been almost at their limits that night as he threw the matches across the room in defeat. “Hey”, she had said as she put her arms around his waist, “its all part of the adventure. Even if something goes wrong we can handle it, we can handle anything.” That would become the mantra of their life together and she would repeat it often through the years always with the same optimism. But it wasn’t true they couldn’t handle anything, but she could, even at her weakest point any strength he found had had come from her even now.

As he looked backed at the cabin he smiled a sad almost fake smile like someone looking at a picture of a happy place they can never return to. The snow was starting to fall heavier now in large fat flakes. Connor passed the snow topped trail sign now worn with age and covered in dead vines. The private trail to the lake was wide and steep with a couple of switch backs. Once or twice his boots slid but he moved easily to catch himself always thinking of his cargo. At the first switch back he paused for a moment and took in his surroundings. Despite it being downhill the cold had taken his breath causing it to deepen. The sound of his breathing only seemed to move inches before it was swallowed by the muffling snow. His eyes scanned about the trees now bare of their leaves standing out sharply against the white background though the falling snow was getting harder still, obscuring those farther out to indistinguishable shadows.

“Wouldn’t it be great to see those big trees,” she had told him once referring the redwoods and old growth pine of the pacific. They had many conversations about those big trees and moving to where they could hike under them all the time. To him it had sounded great and he loved the smile she gave whenever she talked about. “We’ll see those big trees,” he’d promised her “and we’ll build a life under them. “It was a promise he had intended to keep at the time but a new job brought an employment contract and the conversation had changed. “It’s just we can’t really afford to move right now and if I sign I can get a raise every year. I know it seems like a lot but three years will pass like that.” She had listened quietly and intently until his presentation was done then she had nodded and smiled. “You’re right and it’s a great opportunity for you. Besides we spent a lot on the wedding we should get things sorted before any more big changes.” She’d then kissed him sweetly and never showed any disappointment.

Had he been a man of integrity he would have spent those three years planning for the trip he promised to give her. Though he might had done that as the third year began. He had felt both anxiety and the lifting of a weight but there are some setbacks you can’t anticipate, like the call of a doctor saying the tests don’t look good.

The man slid the last few yards till he was standing on the muddy shore of the lake under a small hang of skeletal limbs. He looked over the wide plain of white, the opposite shore no longer visible through the falling snow.  There was no wind to blow the new fall into drifts so the surface was an almost unnatural flat as it rested on the icy surface of the lake. How thick was that ice he wondered as removed his pack and knelt to check the box.

“We’re almost there,” is what she told him as he took another precarious step onto the frozen lake. They had decided to go a hike the first morning of their stay. They had finally conquered the fireplace from and after a night together where they didn’t have to worry about curfews or roommates coming home they were excited to face the day. He’d spent most of the hike down holding her up as she slid on the snow but she kept her optimism high the whole time laughing with every misstep and he laughed with her. The lake had looked similar as it did now though with only a small skiff of snow on top of the slick ice.

Her eyes had lit up at the sight and she lamented not having her ice skates. “You’ve never skated have you?” she’d asked and he had answered with a small shake of his head. “I’ll have to teach you sometime,” she said as she took her first step out onto the ice. He had felt his stomach tighten a little as she did so but he said nothing just smiled as she slid holding her hands out like a tightrope walker.

“It seems really thick,” she commented as she turned to face the lake. “I bet we could walk there!” She said gleefully as she pointed to a small island about a hundred yards off shore.

The very thought caused the knot in his stomach to tighten but again he said nothing and instead took his first few tentative steps onto the ice. She led the way about ten yards ahead her chipper voice pushing him forward. “Come on, we’re almost there”, she had said eagerly.

This wasn’t true they had made it only fifteen yards and with each step the man’s legs grew heavier as if each movement caused lead shot to pour into his boots. His breath quickened as the knot untied itself bringing a wave of nausea. He managed to swallow it down but even as he did the world seemed to grow distant and muted as if behind a fish bowl and he fell to his knees.

He’d sat like that for awhile breathing deep to gain control of himself tears in his eyes as his fishbowl surrounded him. He was brought back by the feel of her soft hands on his cheeks raising his eyes to meet hers. She knelt down as well and wrapped her arms around him and he did the same to her. They sat there on the lake holding each other till his breathing returned to normal. She gently took his hand and helped him to his feet. “Come on let’s go back and have some tea, that sound ok?” She asked and he had nodded. She never mentioned that moment again for as long as they were together, but as the man thought of it, now years passed the tears fell freely.

He hoisted the bad again and looked out at the island across the frozen water. It was closer than it had seemed at the time and also smaller. It wasn’t much more than a pile of rocks with a couple of trees, teenagers would boat to it in the summer to drink and party and just enjoy their youth. No the island itself was nothing special but it had to be the place.

He’d meant to do it in the winter of her death, but it had been warm and wet and the lake never froze. For a time, he had considered coming back in the summer and reaching it by boat or canoe but that would have been wrong, it had to be this way. It wasn’t the island or the lake, the trail or the cabin that made this the place. It was that moment on the ice when she’d first turned back from something she wanted for him. The first moment of many that he kept her from adventure, from life. The first moment his weakness prevented him from following her and the moment she decided follow him rather than leave. 

He took a deep breath as he ground his teeth and clenched his fist. His eyes were squeezed tight the tears feeling frozen on his face. He held his breath for a moment and his grip relaxed and for a moment he could feel her slender fingers weave with his. The man than opened eyes the island now shrouded behind the falling snow. With a steady breath he moved forward and took his first calm step onto the frozen lake.