Remembering Esme

Rain poured down his face as he dragged his feet across the paved streets. Alone. Never again would she be there, Esme, a gentle and witty companion at his side. The pure love of his life. The rain was warm, not cold. It blended well with the silent tears streaming down his cheeks. There was no wind, but he almost wished there were so that he could wail into the night with it without anyone questioning his sanity or calling the police. Streetlights glistened off the watery pavement, a subtle light attempting to make its way into the darkness he currently swam in.

              He remembered the first day he had met Esme, twenty-five years ago. He had known then that she was something special, but never could he have imagined the beautiful and exciting life she would have given him. He longed to be there again. To relive the moment she first caught his eye, if only such a thing was possible.

              Falling to his knees, Otto threw his hands up to meet his face as his neck sagged, unable to hold his head up any longer. And he wailed. He no longer cared who heard him, what they thought, or what law enforcement they may call on him. Without Esme life was empty and meaningless. His body was racked with uncontrollable sobs, shaking his shoulders and back, his neck swinging lightly from side to side with each moan escaping his mouth.

              Desire to see Esme again filled him, and he glanced up as if he might see her standing in the street, watching him, ready to lift and comfort him. But instead, all he saw was a red telephone booth that stood as wet and lonely as he was. His head fell back down again, and he looked past the tears to the blurry reflection of his face in the water below him. He had aged, and not well, compared to Esme. She had always remained beautiful, even twenty-five years later. Her skin had remained smooth. Her long nut-brown hair had remained shiny, and her smile had always remained jovial.

His sobbing calmed some as he remembered her beauty. He wiped his nose on the edge of his sleeve and stood, the thought of her gave him just enough strength to do so. He paused…then slowly walked over to the telephone booth, opening the door and entering it before closing it again behind him. He paused again…used his sleeve to wipe his nose one more time, then picked up the phone dialing her number. He placed the phone to his ear and listened.

Brrrr-ing…brrrr-ing…brrrr-ing. The ringing continued for what felt like an eternal moment as he waited for his answering machine to come on—their answering machine. Esme had been the one to record it and it would be her voice he heard. One last brrrr-ing…no answering machine came on. Pulling the phone away from his ear, he stared at it, wondering if it was broken. Tap. Tap. Tap. He hit it against the edge of the phone booth, not knowing if it would do anything, but hoping it may jostle some type of mechanism inside the phone to start working again. He raised the phone back to his ear, but there was nothing. Even the phone booth thought he needed to move on from her.

Unable to do anything more, he decided to exit the phone booth, and continue in his eternal grief. Opening the door, he stepped out. Wait…he looked around. Where had the dark, rain-soaked streets gone? He wasn’t in the streets at all anymore. Instead, he stood on a grassy hill, with one large weeping willow sitting atop it. Its branches swayed with the light breeze that tickled the air. It was a bright sunny day, with few clouds in the sky and though the hill was peaceful, the village below was packed with crowded and busy streets.

“Are you following me?” he heard himself say, though he hadn’t tried to speak. As involuntarily as his words had been, his body seemed to be afflicted the same way as he turned to see a tall, beautiful woman with long brown hair flowing like the tree branches in the wind. Esme. Understanding fell upon his mind like a sheet floating down through the atmosphere. This was it. Twenty-five years ago. The moment they had met.

She said nothing, only watched him curiously. “I’ve seen you there.” He continued, “always around the corner watching me.” He paused, giving her a chance to explain. Stil, she said nothing. “Will you tell me why?” She shook her head. It was a response at least. Unsure what he could do to get her to speak he turned back toward the village and sat on the grass. More silence, though he could still feel her eyes watching him, but he wasn’t worried. She didn’t have a threatening presence at all. On the contrary, she seemed innocent and filled with wonder.

He pointed toward the village below at the people who hustled about the streets as if their day-to-day customs were the most important part of their lives. “I don’t want to live like them.” Still silence. “Of course, I don’t want adventure either, but I long for something more meaningful in life.” He caught a subtle and graceful movement through his peripherals and shifted his eyes—not his head—to see the young girl sit on the grassy hill beside him. She faced him, big black eyes filled with tender admiration, but still she said nothing. He continued, “Sometimes I wonder what destiny lies at the center of my existence. What my purpose is. But I can never quite puzzle it out.” He had only been trying to make light conversation but had been unable to prevent passion from entering the words riding off his tongue and filling the air around them. He turned toward her, his body moving avidly. But, by the time he faced her, she was no longer there. Confused, he looked around, wondering where she could have gone so quickly and silently. But there was nothing but him, the large tree behind him, and the busy village below. Then he saw it. A medium sized spider sat on the grass next to him, facing him just as she had been. Though it seemed absurd, he knew the spider was the girl.

Reaching his hand down carefully he placed it in front of the spider. One leg moving at a time, the spider slowly and gracefully crept onto his hand. Lifting his hand in front of his face, he did his best to make eye contact with at least one of her tiny eyes. She held his gaze for only a moment then walked off his hand onto the open air in front of him. She stepped as if there was something solid to place her legs upon, but he could see nothing. Then he watched as she began spinning a web right before his face. He watched in awe. There was nothing for her to crawl upon, nothing for her to connect her web to and yet she weaved the most intricately beautiful web right before his face, connecting piece after piece.

She neared the end of the web—now larger than his face—then stepped to side, transforming back into the form of a beautiful girl. Astonished at what he had just witnessed, he looked from her to the web, and back again. Similarly, she glanced between him and the web excitedly, almost bouncing lightly upon her toes as her arms were crossed in front of her, each hand grasping the other. They remained that way for a long moment, before she gestured with her eyes impatiently toward the web. “You want me to walk into it?” he asked incredulously. She nodded. Curious he swallowed back any confusion attempting to enter his mind and took a step forward, then another, and another.

The world changed with a dizzying spin. He stood alone again in the dark, empty, and wet streets. The same forlorn phone booth sat behind him. The memory of Esme sat fresh in his mind, making him smile slightly. She may have passed on, but he determined not to let her die. She would live on in his memory and through his legacy. He knew what his destiny was now, and she had led him to it. Her absence was still felt in his heart, but she had led him to a new purpose. He would not let her down.

Otto turned down the street, headed home. Headed to fulfill his destiny.