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TIME OUT TO CARE
by
Wanda Arrington-Akorede
She stands by the bridge, looking out onto the gray water. Tears of pain and anguish roll down her face. She brushes them off gently pausing to look at the ring on her finger. The ring that he gave her so long ago. Her shoulders shudder almost as if she were being rocked by a strong wind. The people pass by; no one notices her pain. When suddenly without warning, she climbs onto the rail pulling her self up over the steel bar and stands on the other side. She leans back adjusting her position and gazes into the afternoon sky looking for the sun. There was none there as there was none in her life. She prepares to jump into the dark gray water of the river. No one will find her; no one will miss her, no one. When she feels a strong hand on her shoulder,
“Miss, you should be careful.”
The masculine voice fills her ears with its sound. “It is slippery and the water is very cold this time of year.”
Shivering, she turns to see the face of the man who interrupted her interlude with death. Her large eyes, taking on the gray of the water meets with his brown caring ones. As he says again;
“Miss, the water is cold this time of year.” Placing strong emphasis on cold. His eyes held warmth and concern.
“Miss, what is your name?”
Her silence was her doom and almost his undoing. For he was determined not to let her go. She pulled away sliding along the post, further away from the intruding stranger. She was unwilling to listen or be swayed by anyone. She was determined to fulfill her destiny, to die, today.
He follows her gingerly holding on to her coat. She feels his strong hands pulling, pulling, when she slowly let her arms come loose, free from the sleeves of her wool coat. Wearing only her dress now, a fine silk one, that showed her figure to perfection. He took in a deep breath, caught off guard by her beauty, as she slid farther down the railing, towards her destination.
Not knowing what to do, but sensing the need to act, he takes her in his arms and holds her close. The steel rail between them, her body so frail and cold. He shielded her from the weather and her own stupidity.
“Why?”
He shouted, "Why would you end a life so precious? Your life does not belong to you, it belongs to God. You haven't got the right to take your life.”
Her body stiffens like a board, as she hailed the friendly face with a stream of obscenities. Then pulls away and takes off running down the thin walkway between the rail and the river. He was caught off guard again and curses himself, why did he care? He does not know her anyway. Yet, she has somehow bewitched him. Those gray eyes so sad, he wanted to see them shine. Someone had hurt her, and he wanted to know whom, so he could reciprocate.
She stops, then looks back at him, almost laughing, almost forgiving. As she jumps, he stands on the rail holding her wool coat, and grabbing at the air that she has already left. Silently, she falls, until she hits the water hard, making a loud splash. By then the cars stop the people stare.
“Help her, someone call 911!”
He did the gallant thing; he threw off his coat, and plunged into the cold, gray water after this nymph. She sank instantly to the bottom. She could not swim, and even if she could, she did not want to. It all flashed before her eyes as she fell the few feet into the cold murky depths. At the church was the bitch and her lover. They were exchanging vows. She stood there watching, unable to feel; yet feeling everything. Then she turned away and took a taxi to the bridge. She no longer felt any pain. She also did not feel him; his strong arms reach out and grab her arm, pulling her to the surface. Her face blue and cold was dripping with filthy water.
He lay her on the ground, trying to catch his breath, while no one else assisted. They just stood around her, minds filled with questions and judgements. He pushed them away and began CPR. He checked for a pulse, then feeling none, he continued. He slapped her face, “Come on lady, why did you do it? I’m not going to let you die! You are better than that! What ever happened will pass! Please come on Miss, breathe!” The only sounds in the air were that of the ambulance on route.
He was becoming desperate; he then began shaking her. He shook her hard, her body bending like a reed, her neck snapping hard, it was almost as if she would break, When suddenly she began coughing and gagging and a stream of dirty river water flew from her mouth and nose. She was shivering, and he was laughing. The crowd began cheering! “Good Job, Mr.” The EMT said as he stood over the now conscious woman. "We will take over now.”
That was the last time he saw her, until the hospital. He sat with her daily, and read books and talked and slowly as she grew stronger, so did his love . . .
Three months later, he received an award for bravery. She came forward from the audience, the woman, with the gray eyes and they were shining. She came over to the podium and showered praises on the strange man who saved her from her agony. Her shining gray eyes, never once leaving his brown ones. She told the story of her pain and how he took time from his life to save another. She walked over to him and presented him with a plaque commemorating his deed. But he did not feel rewarded, until she took his strong face into her hands and planted a kiss on his waiting lips. The kiss held a message that only lovers could read. Then smiling and holding hands, hers bearing the diamond ring he gave her when he asked her to be his. She knew that when she awoke in the hospital and he was standing there, this strong stranger, that someone cared.
The End.
Copyright 1998
Posted on the Writers' Voice- 1/28/00