The Unburdening

There was no mistaking his suicidal intentions as he stood on the bridge at a quarter to midnight, leaning over the railing in terrifying silence. Thankfully he had no idea that I was intruding during his last contemplations from a good three yards away. The bridge was built on a rather steep slope that swooped down to where our family trailer had been placed some years before I was born. It was only when I realized that the bug light had been left on that I stepped outside the door and thrust myself into this man's final moment, although he wasn't aware of it. The screen door was still ajar as I stood in shock, watching the man's every move with intense stillness. Despite the severity of the whole situation, I found myself caught up in the overwhelming romanticism of the tragic man, staring down into the black sheet of glass that reflected the myriad of stars. The backdrop of diamonds embedded in the night sky put the man's danger in a new perspective. 



I felt like I could be the hero of this fellow in distress who was about to literally drown his sorrows. Suddenly a surge of adrenaline rushed through me, and I soared up the slope and right over the railing. All adrenaline flushed out of me when my eyes discovered the full form of the man facing me with shoulders thrown back and his face slashed with a streak of night. One of his hands was still clasping the railing while the other was possibly grabbing a patch of hair just above his hair. I could just barely make out the shadows of one or two tufts of hair sprouting from between his knuckles. Reading his body language, I was certain he was going to make some drastic movement, but from his English, I learned something significantly different from what I had been expecting.

In a very calm, yet surprised voice, the man made his apologies when in fact, that was my due. “Sorry, I didn't mean to trespass. It's a beautiful night so I decided to get some fresh air.” He paused before returning to his previous position with both hands on the railing and head hanging over the side. Then he resumed with, “I know this sounds crazy because I don't know you, but I have to tell someone or I'll just die.” His final word hit me like a train. I thought that was going to be his cue to plunge into the softly humming Tippecanoe. Although the current wouldn't have been enough to cause his demise, the remains of a former bridge that lie rusting directly below its replacement were a definite guarantee. I couldn't think of any reply so I answered with crossing my arms, tilting my head, and popping out my hip. He must have been encouraged by my stance because he continued with a breathy story about his fiance Harvanna. The more he talked, the more his voice rose in excitement.

“I never thought I'd have her. She the kind of a girl that you can only get if you cut her out of a magazine. She's a real...” His sentence was finished with a long whistle that most people make when they mimic a falling bomb. He slapped the metal railing then let out a self-indulging laugh. “Whenever I was around her in school I would act just like the kid with big black glasses taped together in the middle and a shirt that's tucked in down to the toes. Her beauty was so intimidating.” Again he paused, but this time he stood up straight, put his hands on his hips, and kicked some gravel into the river. The result was a noise like the turning of a rain-stick. He followed it with a sigh. “I was the only one to call her Harvanna. Everyone else always called her Harv, but she was so classy and elegant like a member of the royal family that it seemed disrespectful to call her anything other than her birth name. Besides, it's a lovely name. Her father's name is Harvey and her mother's name is Anna, so they strung their names together to make her own. It's like her name resembles the idea of her being a portion of both of them. Even her name is imbued with sentimentality.”

At this point, I could tell he was getting so pulled into his story that I could have returned to the trailer without him noticing, but the tenderness and sincerity in his voice was touching. So far he was a modern day Romeo, but I wanted to make sure the ending wasn't the same. I watched him with secret pleasure as he began to pace from one side of the bridge to the other. He kicked some more gravel into the river just for the sheer sound similar to that of heavy raindrops plopping into the water. There was something charming to the sound. His hand scratched the back of his head as he continued with a confused air. He was reliving the past. “I didn't think I had a chance in the world. Well, as for worlds, she was Venus and I was from Mars. I had no choice but to drop out of school to help out with the family's financial situation, but she was far too smart for that. Incredibly smart, actually. She was first in her class.” His hand left his head and shot up into the air in disbelief. I couldn't help but compare him to a young, innocent teenager with a major crush. Both of us turned around to spot two headlights in the distance. We shuffled mindlessly to the opposite sides of the bridge while reveling in the giddiness that bubbled up from the idea of a twilight stranger sharing an intimate story with eager listener. The headlights of the car lit up his face, and I was looking at a young man in his mid-thirties with a face riddled with smile-induced wrinkles. He was very handsome in a rugged kind of way. There was certainly no need for height, hair, or muscles as his biceps were bulging from beneath his flannel shirt. His sleeves were rolled up to just above his elbow and a belt held his blue jeans in place. He wasn't sparkling, but he was well-groomed.

He crossed over to my side of the bridge, but kept his distance. After clearing his throat, he began his story again with what sounded like an undertone of embarrassment. “I confess that my nerves got the better of me, but when something from your dreams materializes right before your eyes, you're almost petrified by it's dazzle.” The statement came out like he was explaining the resolution to some puzzle. I found his description of Harvanna to be extremely dreamy without being overly melodramatic. She formed in my head just as he explained her. Beautiful, a head above all the other girls, but with a very sweet and welcoming smile. “I can clearly remember the day she walked down my road. It was the first time she acknowledged my existence even though she had privately been keeping track of me. I was flattered by her attention.” Even though the night was black, I could imagine his burning cheeks. His hands were shoved into his pockets and his chin dropped to his chest. Another laugh issued from him, but it was a bashful one. “Who knew?” The genuine surprise in his voice as he asked the question gave it away. He was elated beyond a doubt. “She caught me under my car, working away in a oil-stained jumpsuit. I was nothing special to look at! A mechanic! But she sang out her question to me as if I were dressed to go to the queen's palace! 'Larry! Will you take me to the prom?' I couldn't believe my ears. Oil must have leaked into them!” I didn't mean to do it, but I intruded into his memory again by letting out a laugh. Nothing happened though. He didn't seem to have heard me.

“I was overjoyed that she knew my name, but I was hit again by a wave of pure bliss when I realized she had asked me to take her to the prom. I confess I was so blissful that I was flustered, and in a regrettable moment of panic, I told her no! Imagine me denying both of us what we wanted! I was an ass for doing it!” I stood erect when he turned towards me and said, “Pardon my language, Miss.” My heart was warming towards him the more he spoke. “Ah, you wouldn't believe it if I told you, but I denied her twice for the same reason. You have to understand that she wasn't the cheer leading bimbo type. She was a real down-to-earth girl with a both the brains and the natural beauty that would shame Audrey Hepburn herself! She was a real looker. A once in a lifetime kind of girl, and this idiot went and told her no twice!” His thumb shot out and accused him by jamming into his chest just as the word 'idiot' spurted out of his mouth. His voice was now agitated, but it didn't last long. “Well, lucky for me, she's a very determined girl. The third time around she skipped the asking and plainly said, 'Larry Brink, you are taking me to that dance and that's final!' What else could I say to that other than, 'okay'? So there you have it, the girl I would die for had to ask me twice and demand me to take her to a dance before I consented. Love is a very bizarre thing, isn't it?” I wanted to answer that I wouldn't know since I have never experienced love, but I certainly didn't want to break the focus of his story. It may not be exactly like a fairytale, but the way he was carrying himself was like hiding in the bushes during Juliet's balcony scene.

“Well, long story short, I took her to the dance and had the time of my life. Ever since then we've been together! She's better than I could ever imagine or dream. Funny how reality is sweeter than the dream, but I suppose it's far more better that way.” He chuckled at his own joke, but his voice was beginning to fall from its lightness into a thicker, more manly voice. The surroundings of the river were coming into focus again. The chill of the night sent goosebumps all over my skin. I could tell he was going to finish. “Of course the best day of my life is a tie between the first time she said my name and the time she said yes to me, but that's excluding the future, which, of course, I can't predict. There are so many things to come.” I shook with the cold. The night was edging on. “Speaking of things to come, if I don't hurry, the sun will be coming any minute. I better get back to her now. If she wakes up in the middle of the night and finds my side of the bed empty, she'll go wild with worry. It doesn't help that Mark keeps her awake with his kicks and thumps. I think his constant movement is a sign of what he's going to be like when he comes into the world. It's amazing to think that three worlds have been untied through love.”

He couldn't have ended it better. As he thanked me for listening to his happy story, he mentioned that it was more meaningful to tell his story to someone who didn't know him because family and friends are obliged to say their “Ohs” and “Aws”, but my sighs and laughs were enough to insure him that his story was in fact as good as it sounded. I hadn't realized that I had sighed or laughed all that much, but now as I think back on it, I do remember speaking my heart quite a bit. I must have been so engrossed by his story that the world had gone deaf to me. He turned on his heel with a final wave and walked down the dark road until I couldn't see him anymore. I couldn't help but let out one final sigh as the tingling from my toes rose to my chest. I kicked some more gravel into the river and listened for the plunking of their splashes. The water was twinkling back at me with the reflections of the stars, and the quiet rush of water left my heart aching for something to match the magic of the night. I hadn't experienced love, but I witnessed it, and from that night on, I found that the stranger's story opened a new chamber in my heart and filled it with the feelings for something so large and so beautiful that Juilet herself seemed only to be the victim of a mere crush.


© Mikal Minarich