A Bridge of Shadow Page 4

  Rain still pelted the town. He pulled up his collar, stepping into a puddle as he exited the vehicle. His phone had a built-in flashlight and he turned it on. Walking around to the back of the building, he noticed empty boxes shielding a few of the homeless who were trying to sleep. Lopez shined his flashlight onto a fellow with a long white beard. “Sorry to bother you but have you seen a lady in her mid-twenties around here?” Between the flannel pajamas, his wool coat and the sincere anxiety he felt about his sister, he felt his temperature rising. Perspiration tickled his neck, dripping down his back.

  The old man rubbed his eyes, slowly pulling himself out of the box into the wet weather, “No, only Bonnie. She gave me this fine box. Don't you think it's wonderful?”

  “Yes, yes, Bonnie,” he practically spit the words into the wet evening. “She's my sister,” he sighed with relief. “Where is she?” Relieved, Lopez followed the man's crooked finger and noticed his sister sitting on a bench with another man. They were holding hands under a large tree that somewhat shielded them from the deluge. Both of them were wearing the ugly, elasticized plastic caps. He approached, holding the flashlight. “Bonnie, it's me.” He wiped moisture from his forehead. “Why are you still here?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I'm here because Dan said he'd take me home. Sorry Al, but my cell phone is dead; forgot to charge it.”

  Dan? Who was Dan? Lopez inhaled and tried cooling down, quietly thanking his guardian angel. “You had me worried.” He looked at the burly looking man in the blue shower cap. A large bushy moustache hid most of his face. His worn jacket had a logo encircled with embroidered flames.

  Dan stood and shook his hand. “Think I remember you from last time. I've volunteered here for ten years. Name's Dan. I'm a retired fire captain. Think I'm in love with your sister. She's a beauty, even with that funny looking cap.”

  Bonnie blushed and Lopez shook Dan's hand. “Yes, I've seen you around, nice to finally meet you. So, you're giving her a ride?”

  Dan turned around and went back to Bonnie. He hugged her tight. “We were thinking of going to the diner for pie and coffee. You're welcome to come.”

  “Nope, I'll pass but thanks–early meeting tomorrow.” He walked over to his sister and gave her a quick, brotherly hug. “You'll be okay, right?” He whispered in her ear.

  She smiled and nodded. “Love you Bro. Sorry.”

  Lopez went to his car. Both the rain and his heart seemed lighter now. Love? His heart pounded, racing gleefully inside his chest. Who would have thought that finally, after months of volunteer work, his sister would finally make a connection? When he turned out of the parking lot, he looked at the dashboard clock. It said five minutes until midnight. He drove in the direction of the bridge. Water dripped from his nose. He was thrilled. The warmth in his soul radiated throughout his car, making the windows steam up on the inside. “Glory-be and hallelujah,” he chanted several times while drumming on the steering wheel and “Thank you Almighty God!”

  The traffic on the bridge consisted of two or three cars. This wasn't a large bridge, just an old ornate bridge with decorative motifs and historical significance. Somewhere in the middle of crossing over Schoharie Creek, while singing along to a gospel CD, his car moved in an unlikely direction and he lost control. As the bridge toppled, his fancy car tumbled into the swirling darkness below. The cold water engulfed the car before Lopez could roll down a window or open a door. If someone hadn't seen him sink, he was sure to die.

  Out the back window, he could just see two cars hanging precariously on the side of a gap held together by ancient rebar, poking like stubble from old wet concrete. He thought he could see several dark shapes jump into the moving water that churned towards the Mohawk River. The muted sounds of sirens told him help was coming while Lopez frantically worked on unbuckling his seatbelt.

  The rear window broke, and water rushed into the car, engulfing Lopez. He took a deep breath and held it, but didn't know what would happen. And though he didn't panic, the end looked near. Help me God, he thought, as he moved into the backseat towards the gushing water. He felt hands pulling him to safety. Water everywhere—a type of baptismal—the Living Water–Lopez closed his eyes and numbly floated away. Seconds later, air pushed inward and his lungs filled. He came to with someone giving him mouth-to-mouth necessitation. Water poured from his nose and his mouth. He gurgled, gulped and opened his eyes. Was that Dan hovering over him on the shore? Paramedics moved him to a a stretcher. Minutes later, he was in the ER where a lovely nurse held his hand. He blinked several times and smiled. “Hello,” he said bashfully. “The entire bridge went out from under me.”

  “So, I heard. Glad you made it,” she replied with a tone that sounded almost sarcastic. “Your sister's here with my brother.” The nurse tended to his scratches with ointments and bandages. “Doesn't look like you broke any bones—can you move your big toe for me?”

  “Huh?” He wiggled his toes and she smiled a wry smile.

  “Bonnie's your sister, right?”

  “She's here?”

  “Yes, she's here with Dan. Dan's my brother. He's the one who saved you.” She spoke slowly as if maybe he had lost his marbles in the bottom of the murky river.

  This angel in a uniform stood over him smiling and talking to him as if he fell out of a special- needs bus. “Dan's your brother? You don't look anything like him.” Lopez looked at her tender lashes and pink lips. His eyes traveled to her nametag that said Patty.

  She laughed. “Yeah, he has a lot more facial hair. I think you'll be going home with them soon.”

  Bonnie ran in and embraced her brother. “Al,” she shouted, obviously out of breath. Dan was steps behind her trying to keep up, but his clothes were wet, and he moved slowly, shivering and uncomfortably. A towel wrapped around his broad shoulders. “Oh my goodness, what a miracle–I kept asking Dan about you and he wasn't sure what to tell me.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Why did you go on the bridge? I thought you were going back to our place?”

  “He'll be fine.” Patty reached over towards Bonnie and caressed her back. “Let me go get the doctor so he can go home.”

  “Hey buddy,” Dan grinned at the man lying on the gurney. “Lucky we were headed in that direction. What a fluke. No one died, and you are the only injured party. That bridge has withstood everything for a hundred years. Storms, hail, heavy snow, floods, marches, parades and then all of a sudden-swoosh. Just like that it crumbles to pieces.” He shook his head in disbelief. “So weird, but sure glad you're going to be okay. Few more seconds and you would have had hypothermia.”

  “Or drowned?” Bonnie wailed.

  Patty returned with more towels for her brother. “Dan, you're making a mess.”

  “So what else is new? Sisters—they never let you forget your shortcomings.”

  Lopez looked into Dan's rough-hewn face. Who was this man of men? He looked over at Bonnie who continued weeping tears of joy. “Bonnie, stop crying.” He watched Patty wiping up mud behind her brother. He wondered whether Patty was married but didn't think he could be bold enough to ask. His mind raced at the possibilities when he considered that these two might also be a similar set of codependent siblings. A few seconds later, Patty came to his side with questions about how he was feeling.

  “I'm supposed to check your vitals and then report back to Doc. Take a deep breath.”

  He inhaled and looked at her latex gloved hands. No ring seemed to be a good sign, but nurses in the ER kept jewelry to a minimum. “Your lungs are clear.” She felt his pulse. “Little bit of rapid heartbeat but after what you've been through tonight, I'm not surprised.” Next, she took his temperature. “Perfect.”

  “Perfect? Me? Never, but I try.” He looked at Dan trying to cheer up his sobbing sister and thanked the heavens and the legions of seraphim, cherubim and all the saints above for sending protection during this freak accident. Suddenly, while staring into Patty's sparkling eyes, he realized it wasn't an accident at all. He thought of
his cell phone sitting on the bottom of a rushing creek and the message to go to the bridge at midnight. Who sent the messages he wondered? How did they know?

  Go ahead you dummy, he told himself. Voices in his head told him that being shy never helped anyone reach his or her ultimate goals. Go for it. You almost died, moron. Take a chance. Life is short. Do it. Ask and don't turn back. “You, however, look perfect to me. Are you single or married?”

  Crimson circles formed in the middle of Patty's cheeks. “I'm referring to your temperature, Mr. Lopez,” she answered in a serious and professional tone. “Single.” She pursed her lovely lips, tilted her head and looked over at Dan who winked.

  Lopez smiled, springing to a sitting position in the bed. “Dan, can we go get that slice of pie at the diner now?” Bonnie and Patty giggled like conspiring sisters. “I have this story I want to tell all of you, but you'd never believe me anyway.”

  Dan stood up and dropped one of the towels onto a chair. “Oh yeah—sounds like a challenge–bet I've heard it.”

  “Well sorry, I can't go right now. Anyone notice I'm still working here?” Patty had both hands on her hips. Making a face at Dan, she moved one hand to pick up the wet towel from the chair, as if it was a dead weasel. “Guess I'll have to hear the story later.”

  Lopez put his legs on the ground and found his coat and shoes in a white bag. “Oh no—not going to happen. This is a story for all of us and you have to listen to it from beginning to end. Either that or I have to stay here and be your patient for the rest of my life.”

  Patty grinned and handed Lopez the rest of his belongings, including his waterproof watch. She pointed to the clock on the wall. “It's three o'clock in the morning and that diner probably ran out of pie anyway. Go ahead and stay.”

  “Well suit yourself Sis, Bonnie and I are going to the diner. See-ya later.” Dan pulled Bonnie out into the corridor leaving Lopez to fend for himself.

  “Your brother's cool,” he said, noticing his confidence level seemed to have taken a nosedive off a shallow ridge.

  “He's something else that's for sure–saves more cats in trees than PETA.”

  “That's nice. I was like a drowning cat and he saved me too.” He rubbed his neck. “Guess I'll have to postpone my vacation because my neck muscles feel sore. Good thing I bought the cancellation insurance.”

  “Here, have some aspirin.” She held out a plastic cup of water and put two capsules into his hand. Staying busy, she put instruments into drawers while she spoke. “So, what's this story you want to tell us that we won't believe? Does it have to do with falling off of a bridge in the middle of the night?”

  “It does. But if I told you the rest of it, I'd have to close the door and maybe…well, I'm not very good at these types of things.” Now his cheeks burned, and he felt dizzy from the earlier ordeal, so he sat back down on the side of the bed, and rubbed his neck again.

  “Maybe I can help.” She drew the curtain around the bed and closed the door. When she came back, she took hold of his bandaged hand. “Now you can tell me.”

  He leaned forward, inhaling her sweet perfume and whispered into her ear. “I can't because it's a miracle.”

  “What?”

  “You know.” He looked down at the vinyl floor and felt embarrassed.

  She closed her eyes and pulled him close. “Just one kiss and you can tell me the story tomorrow after work,” she whispered, as soft pink lips graced his cheek and moved towards his mouth. “That's if you don't fall into anymore rivers. I can't guarantee my brother will be there.”

  Lopez nodded, passionately returning her kiss while holding her hands. His heart skipped a beat and he felt as if a tide had floated him out to sea like driftwood. He remembered that the Mohawk word for driftwood is Schoharie. Al's heart now gone—past the bridge—completely–utterly captivated–by an angel named Patty. “You smell like the river,” she purred with a smile and a make-believe growl. “And I like it.”

  Two embracing hearts floated like driftwood for several months, in a marine layered fog until landing on a sun-drenched beach with a strip of white sand, swaying palms, on the island of Hawaii. There, they met up with two more bobbing hearts, Dan and Bonnie. All four of them were married, and now both couples live happily ever after. The guys at work think of Lopez as a hero. Gorgeous wife—almost drowned—respect. They don't tease him, bully him and never, ever call him a schmuck anymore.

  About the Author: Eve Gaal

  Eve Gaal, M.A. is the author of the romantic novel Penniless Hearts and a faith-based, fantasy novella titled The Fifth Commandment. Her freelance creative writing business is: Desert Rocks and her inspirational blog: Intangible Hearts. Find links to her stories and poems at www.evegaal.com. Her work has also appeared in The Los Angeles Times and Datebook, a weekend edition of The Daily Pilot. A precocious child, her dad told her to write about anything and everything, even making sure she had a toy typewriter by age four. Born in Boston, but a longtime Californian, she lives with her husband and two mischievous Chihuahuas.

  Books by Eve Gaal:

  The Fifth Commandment

  Penniless Hearts

  Links:

  Website: http://www.evegaal.com/

  Ayn Rand

  Kenna McKinnon

  Danger, luv, your fingers will suffer!

  Reggie Donovan was Mary's first supervisor in the coveted entry level job as a junior clerk-typist at Ohio Standard Oil & Gas Co. The year was 1963. Eighteen-year-old Mary Henderson sat erect at a small desk in front of a reconditioned Remington manual office typewriter. The typewriter was broken. She didn't know what to do. Mr. Donovan slouched at his huge desk in the office at the end of the hall, his door ajar, so she could see the cabinet beside him with the extra paper she needed to roll into the maw of the typewriter. He would try to slam her fingers in the drawer before she could withdraw her hand. He had done it many times before. She was afraid. She was afraid to tell him that the old Remington refused to strike the keys onto the black and red striped fabric ribbon, as it had so faithfully for the past ten months since she started the entry level job. He would tell her to fix it herself.

  He did.

  “Fix it yourself, Sweetlips,” Reggie sneered. “We're behind budget already. If you're too incompetent to manage your machine then we'll have to put you to work down the hall at the files. You know what that means. Demotion!”

  He threw open the drawer beside him, and dared her with his eyes to put her hand in there to extract the needed tool, the coveted typing paper, and most of all, the manual that would tell her how to fix the stubborn keys.

  Mary set her lips in a tight line and her hand darted into the cavernous drawer, snatched the screwdriver, the paper, and the manual, then darted out again, just as Mr. Donovan slammed the drawer, almost catching her hand in it. John Austin, one of the bookkeepers from the general office down the hall, happened into the room just at that point. Mary ducked her head and flushed with the rush of emotions. She noticed his bulging biceps strained at the fabric of his white shirt. John frowned and ran a hand through his curly brown hair, his eyes bright blue with anger.

  “You tried to catch her hand in the drawer,” he accused. Reggie glanced down and the corners of his mouth stretched out but no humor showed in his eyes. His face was brick red.

  She skittered out of the room.

  John Austin followed her after a bit, and took the tool from her hand. He opened the manual to the appropriate page. Frowning again, he set to work.

  “I don't know what's the matter with him,” he said. “This company is so cheap that yes, they expect you to fix your own machine.”

  “It's okay,” Mary whispered. She blushed.

  “How's your hand, dear?”

  “It's fine. He missed my hand.”

  “Does he do that a lot?”

  “He does that every time I come in there. He wants me to get something out of the drawer then he tries to slam it on my hand.”

  “Hmmmm.” John
turned the roller and snapped the keys so they hummed. “We have a union, you know.”

  “I don't want to make any trouble.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “This your first job?” John's hypnotic blue eyes smiled down at her.

  “Yes. I thought I was lucky to get it. My mother told me I was lucky and that I shouldn't be like one of those ugly feminists and try to be boss over a man. My mother told me this was a good job for me. I guess she was right.”

  “There are lots of jobs available, dear. Though, we don't want to lose you. You're sweet, and a good worker. Very quiet, aren't you? Don't give Mary a compliment, they say in the office, she'll blush and go even quieter than usual. You live at home, Mary?”

  “No, I moved out a year ago. My parents live in Grande Prairie.”

  “That's five hundred miles north. Why'd you move here to Calgary?”

  “I had a baby,” she whispered.

  “Oh.” He frowned. A great disgrace in 1963. Parents had thrown her out with twenty dollars in her pocket and told her to seek out the Salvation Army home for unwed mothers here in Calgary. It was very hush-hush in Grande Prairie. Some parents were more compassionate than others. But Mary figured that her parents weren't that type.

  “What happened to the baby?” he asked.

  “I gave him up for adoption.”

  Of course, typical for the time. Poor little thing, barely a baby herself, she had to grow up fast. She knew she didn't deserve this. But he could see why she was desperate to keep the job. The senior Mrs. Henderson's terror of feminism obviously was ill founded for her meek and quiet daughter. He smiled.