-1-
He traced his finger around the silver coin, examining the finely ridged edge. Heads or tails? Quarters are quite ambivalent when it comes to choosing life or death, but they are undeniably decisive. He watched the embers glow somberly in the fireplace on the other side of the dimly lit cabin. The sun hung low in the sky, dragging the day to a close. The silence had nothing to say. The day-by-day calendar read June the second, the day he had been thinking about for the past six months, wondering what life would be like for him on this day. Now, it was almost over. He still felt as trapped as he did back in December. Had time even passed?
He had tried to fix himself. He had tried to do what others told him to do. He had tried to fit the molds. Nothing satisfied. All he could think about was how he served no purpose in life. He wiped his sweaty hand across his tattered jeans.
The silver was now warm between his fingers. Every now and then, Washington would indifferently glance his way, but never for very long. He let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.
He flipped the coin into the air.
The plan was simple. Heads, and he would wait another day. Tails would direct him to the bridge in the city, to a final freedom.
The coin came down and jumped around the wooden table. Each bounce echoed through the room, until the cabin was silent again. He gazed down at the eagle, its wings spread wide and certain. Tails. He grabbed his leather jacket and didn't bother to lock the door behind him.
-2-
She stumbled to catch her balance in the subway car as the doors shut abruptly behind her. Papers were precariously pinched in the crook of her arm. She couldn't wait to get out of these heels. Juggling her thoughts, she attempted to straighten her folders and documents that were in complete disarray. Projects, deadlines, figures and speeches ransacked her mind. Today was just not her day. Her boss believed being the mayor gave him certain privileges, including the occasional after-hours rendezvous with an intern. She was in charge of cleaning up the seedy man's dirty work, in the office and in his marriage. Above all though, she loathed working late, especially on Mondays. She plopped down on the seat, taking a moment to rub her temple. Even her eyes felt stressed in the burning yellow light. The beat from the young puerto rican's blaring headphones across the car drifted to her ringing ears. An older woman rested propped up against a window, her breath gently steaming it up.
A young man in a leather coat sat across from her. His eyes were distant, almost hollow. Although she didn't know the man, she felt oddly compelled comfort him. Maybe his day had been as rough as hers.
She shook the feeling, knowing it to be nonsense. These projects were not going to plan themselves. She gripped her necklace as she often did when her work piled higher than her 5'6” frame. The silver eagle pendant her grandmother had given her always offered a sense of strength and certainty that all will work out in the end, even when she was sure nothing possibly could. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. Sometimes she really missed her grandmother.
An abrupt jolt rocked the passengers as the subway came to a halt, and the clank of change hitting the floor resonated through the car. She looked down to see a quarter roll from across the car to stop at her shoe. The man in the leather jacket stood to his feet as she picked up the coin. From her outreached palm he swiftly retrieved the old quarter as he headed for the exit.
Suddenly he stopped, doing a double take. He stared back at her for three very long seconds. One corner of his lips slowly began to slide up his ashen face.
He turned, stepping off the subway at the River Street stop. He caught a final glimpse of her before the train surged on.
It was odd, that was for sure, very odd. She didn't quite know how to handle what just took place. All she knew was that his face was now etched into her memory―that smile... What made him turn back? He hadn't as much as murmured a “thank you” for her small deed. Something else was on his mind. Of that, she was certain, but what? Maybe it was none of her business, but it sure felt like it was.
Life moved on as it always did. The next stop was hers, Asher Street North. She found herself tired, worn out, and dreading each step in the heels that never seemed to completely break in. The mile walk from the station gave her some time to think about her day, but mostly about tomorrow, next week, and next month. They always seemed so much better than her “todays.”
Her finger weakly traced a silver wing on her chest. It would all be worth it one day...right? The city promised her she would be happy, yet the summer months were notoriously hot. She knew her walks would be blistering in a few short weeks. Maybe she'd be able to afford a car. Maybe she could get an apartment closer to work.
That thought disgusted her. She wanted to get as far away from that place as possible. And if she bought a car, she knew she'd start driving and never stop until the city had disappeared from the rear-view mirror. She was stuck. The city had her handcuffed with responsibilities that effortlessly chipped away at her, bit by bit. Be realistic, the city told her. She couldn't run away. She needed the city.
She fought her way through another day of work, and another, and another as the week passed by. It was draining her. The office wasn't getting any friendlier and the mayor wasn't getting any more faithful. Paperwork needed filing, calls needed to be made, speeches needed to be written. She was the city's machine. Every day she would plaster a pleasant smile on her face, but no one really noticed. No one asked her how her weekend was, or how she liked her coffee. She was regarded as if she had no soul, and oftentimes, that's how she felt. All she wanted was out.
Monday came again, the day dragged on, and as soon as six o' clock finally rolled around, she grabbed her bag and was gone. She didn't quite know how she'd last another week there. The escalator down to the subway station couldn't move fast enough. She boarded the train just as she always did, but was caught off guard by a fellow passenger. There he sat. His gaze held steady on her as she took her usual spot, first seat right of the door.
It wasn't rushed;
It was eye contact.
She fidgeted in her seat, feigning great interest in straightening her paperwork. Although she was pretending she hadn't noticed his eyes on her, she knew very well that he knew she was aware of his intense gaze.
She risked a glance in his direction. He looked down at his work boots.
What was going on? A part of her was completely confused; another part was intrigued. Last time she had seen him, his mind was far from this subway. Now he's unmistakably present. She was aware of his every movement. He was aware of her every breath.
He didn't get off at River Street this time. Peculiar, she thought. She caught a glimpse of him stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets, his head tipping forward ever so slightly in thought. He glanced her way again. Their eyes held.
The subway slowed. Out of his pocket he pulled the quarter. He looked down at it inquisitively. Balancing it on his thumb, he flipped the coin. She watched as he snatched it out of the air, opened his hand palm up, and examined his result. A sense of acceptance swept across his face.
The doors chimed and slid open. She took hold of her belongings and exited the train, not before stealing one last glance his way.
Next Monday brought the two back together once again. She couldn't resist studying him from across the subway. He watched her play with her necklace, anxiously bouncing her crossed leg. There was something building between them. It electrified the air. The way the corner of his lips would rise caught her attention every time.
Games of glance tag
Led to studies of habit,
Led to intrigue and weak knees,
Barely able to stand it.
Everything he saw he desired, and he saw everything about her. He saw her brown eyes widen when they noticed him. He saw her longing when she touched her necklace. He caught glimpses of her spirit when their gazes held. She made him smile. He could feel the current between them. She held endless possibilities.
Asher Street North was the next stop. Again he pulled out the old quarter, flipping it in the air. Again, he caught it and observed the outcome. Again, he looked to her. Silently, he bid her good night.
Mondays were no longer a day to dread. In fact, it was her Mondays that helped her get through the week. His cool composure complimented his placid gaze. There was just something about the sensation in her bones when he was near her that she craved. She felt completely ridiculous; she loved it. Maybe she was finally losing it. It didn't matter; it felt right.
Every Monday for three months, they soaked each other in from across the subway. Somehow they never could get enough. Not a word was suggested between them, yet their actions spoke volumes. Their mysterious routine was simple: Revel in each other's presence, flip the coin, then part ways.
-3-
He sat there one Monday evening. The subway embraced the setting sun as it surfaced in the city, warming the car in a sweet orange. Only the clunk of the speeding train over the tracks could be heard. The lady covered in colorful ornate jewelry who had just gotten on from the Briar Avenue station smelled of lilacs. The scent lingered after she passed by.
She was sitting in her usual spot, her nose buried in a book. The sun came in behind her, gracing her auburn hair with a gentle glow. Beams of light reflected off of her soft curls as if she spent her time with the divine. She wore her favorite black pea coat over a white scoop-neck sweater. Her legs, clothed in a simple black skirt, were leisurely outstretched, crossed at the ankles. He was mesmerized by her.
She had read the same line over and over again for the past five minutes. She was simply too distracted by the man across the car to read any farther. The blue vest that peaked out from beneath his jacket made his eyes look like the Caribbean Sea. His smooth black hair that swept across his brow framed those eyes. She has been noticing his hair grow longer over the weeks. She deeply desired to run her fingers through it. She thought about going over and asking his name, but somehow, articulating any words at all seemed vain.
It wasn't long before the subway was going to pull up to Asher Street North. He always got a little anxious at this point. Pulling out his trusted quarter, he rubbed his thumb over the surface with a sigh. He flipped it, holding his breath. Catching it, he gripped the coin tightly while closing his eyes, praying. When he opened his eyes and his hand, he saw it. The discerning bird stared back at him.
Up slid the corner of his lip. He looked up at her and the smile grew. The train stopped and she rose to her feet. She looked at him curiously before she stepped off.
She stumbled as she got off the train as though she had become unhinged from the Earth. Perplexed, she steadied herself, and pressed on. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that work was slowly suffocating her. Her boss had now assigned her a project that would likely take up to a year to finish. She was hoping she'd be out of there in six months. It crushed her to know that she had no other options. If she was going to break free, she needed money to do it. A sigh from the bottom of her lungs blew out of her mouth. It might as well be a life-long sentence.
The heat waned as she neared her apartment. It was still just a tad warmer than what she would have liked. She trudged up the stairs and unlocked Apartment 2B. Her heels went flying across the room the minute the door was open. She debated whether or not she had the energy to make it to her bedroom. Right now it hardly seemed worth it, but she made her way into her bedroom just long enough to change out of her work clothes. Donning a pair of jeans, a knit tee, and flats, she collapsed onto the couch and smothered her face into the cushion. Another sigh escaped. She decided she wasn't moving for the next 24 hours.
As she lay there with her eyes closed, images of a certain young man on a subway passed through her mind. Thoughts of his content nature, his Caribbean eyes, and the corner of his lips made her heart jump in her chest. Yet he also had a way of putting her at peace. His presence was natural. It felt so inexplicably right.
She relaxed, and began counting each thump in her chest as her heart slowed. The sun still peaked through the blinds, but it too was getting sleepy. She slowly brushed her fingertips atop the silver bird on her heart, praying that she could just fly away from here.
All of a sudden a different thumping was heard. Her eyes flashed open, looking to the front door. No one ever visited her, especially at this hour. Curiosity propelled her to her feet.
She knew she was walking to the door,
And saw her hand turn the knob,
But she was only paying attention
To the excitement building in her bones.
Her breath left her in a hurry. There he stood with his eyes set on hers, only the threshold between them. She hadn't been this close to him since the first day when he retrieved his quarter from her hand. Now here before her he stood, his hands casually in his pockets.
“Hi,” he whispered, his gentle smile gliding up his cheek.
It took her
Several moments
To process this
Common greeting
From such
An uncommon
Individual.
“Hey,” she responded in a daze.
He held out his hand to her, offering her an opportunity to open her eyes.
When she took his hand, she lit the match that would ignite fireworks in her head. She was sure she'd lost it now. Here she was, running off with a complete stranger into the night, yet she knew she'd do it over and over again if given the chance. She decided to stop trying to make sense of the situation, and just let anything and everything happen how it's meant to. She was running, and she wasn't looking back.
He led her down streets, back alleys, though the park, hidden in the shadows of the city. Their pace was steady. He'd look back to her to see her looking at the city as if it was for the first time. She seemed to know where he was taking her, where she needed to go. It was time to break free of the city walls.
As they approached the city limits, his pace slowed. Thunder bellowed in the distance. He turned to her with a gentle squeeze of her hand. His brows knit together, questioning her.
She held his gaze and gave a certain nod, and with that, they ran from the city and into the forest.
He stole her away from the city that night.
Into the towering trees―
Through the thick―
Running―Running―
Pushing aside crimson, gold branches―
After a short while they came upon a clearing. The moon cast a pacific glow on the small lake hidden in the heart of the forest. The water was a silver glass, textured with the signs of autumn. To the left, a lamp gleamed on the boathouse that sat on the shore. She couldn't take in enough of the sight.
They slowed their pace,
Slowed their hearts,
And stopped time.
He led her to the boathouse, stopping just under the rustic iron lamp. He could barely catch his breath. He turned to her, also taking hold of her other hand. Her head swirled around, from the lake, to the trees, to the moon, but always back to him. She leaned back against the damp wood of the boathouse in awe.
“I-I can't even find words...” she whispered, looking down at their entwined fingers.
He stepped closer to stand toe to toe, that corner of his lips sliding up yet again. “When have we ever needed words before?” He exhaled against her ear.
He took a step back shaking his head with a light chuckle. The wind had blown her auburn curls in all sorts of directions, but still, the finest gems couldn't compare to her beauty. She looked up at him and he got caught in the intensity of her eyes. Everything in the world failed to exist at that moment but them. The sky suddenly darkened. A powerful energy charged the air between them.
Thunder boomed and the rain came down,
But it wasn’t the weather that caught her breath.
Entranced, she saw the passion in his soul.
The raw excitement―
The moment.
Like magnets their lips met. They let their feelings manifest without words, without pretense. Breaking from the kiss, they rested their foreheads together, winded. He wiped a raindrop from the shimmering silver eagle on her chest. This was everything he ever wanted. Right here, right now. Drenched in the rain, he finally found what he was looking for. This was fate. He thanked God for creating this moment in time.
She could fly―she was sure of it. If he hadn't been holding onto her, her feet would be off the ground. Even though the rain was pouring down on them, she felt warm all over. They embraced. She rested her head on his chest while he planted a kiss on the top of her head. His heart beat steady and slow. She didn't want to move from this spot. Not now, not ever. For the first time, she felt free.
Seconds, minutes, maybe hours passed before the rain subsided. The night had finally cooled off and he felt her shiver. He hugged her tightly, then took her by the hand to a little passage way she hadn't noticed before. Hidden behind the trees was a little cabin. The vines and moss covering the cabin indicated it must have been sitting there for several decades. As they approached it, the smell of wet pine drifted over them.
The cabin was only made up of a bedroom, bathroom, and a kitchen that connected to the living room. A thick wooden table that looked like it had been around longer than the cabin itself sat in the kitchen on the left. A loveseat faced the fireplace along the right wall. The rest of the cabin was furnished minimally with little more than a coffee table, a few candles, and wall hanging that read “Live, Laugh, Love.”
She watched as he went over to light the fireplace and then proceeded to enter what must have been his bedroom. He returned with a woolen blanket that he wrapped around her.
He gestured to the loveseat. “Here, have a seat,” his voice soft and tender.
It was odd hearing him speak. Everything felt so much more real. She took up the seat he offered.
“Would you like some tea?” He asked politely. She nodded with a small smile.
After brewing a fresh pot, he brought over their tea, and sat down next to her. They sipped quietly for a few moments before he broke the silence again.
“I never thought this day would come,” he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. It was almost as if he was talking to himself. He looked to her as she intently listened.
“Did you know, out of all those times I flipped that quarter on the subway, not once did I get tails until tonight?” He raised his voice to a more audible tone, gazing into the fire. “I got heads every time. What are the odds?” He smiled, chuckling quietly. “There was Washington telling me to wait, and wait, and wait. It wasn't time for me to move yet.”
He looked back up and deep into her soul. “Fate is a miraculous thing.”
Something softened in his eyes. “You are so beautiful. I just wanted to walk up to you and kiss you the first moment I looked at you,” his voice lowered, “and every day you got on the subway miserable. I needed to rescue you, make you smile―get you out of there. But I knew I couldn't act on my impulses. I wasn't about to mess up an opportunity to save you, to be with you. So, I left it up to something bigger than myself. I trusted fate. I trusted in God.”
He pulled out the quarter from his pocket, wiping off the few remaining raindrops that clung to it. The firelight flickered along the contours of the silver eagle. She sat down her tea cup and turned to him. Her heart burned hotter than the fire as she ran her fingers through his hair. He looked to the eagle that dangled from her neck.
“This is how He told me,” his whisper was barely audible as he caressed the pendant.
“I'd given up on searching for purpose until He sat you there. Now three months later, here we are.” He grazed his thumb along her jaw line.
She kissed him, her emotions fervent. Her hand slid under his jacket and gently pushed him back.
“Wait,” he interrupted, his breath lost. He needed to open her eyes.
The only people who knew about his cancer were his doctors until now, but he explained everything. He explained how they had given him six months to live, and how June 2nd, the day they met, was the six month mark. He told her about how for those six months, he tried to find purpose and meaning in his life, but was never satisfied. He told her about how after six months, he didn't want to live each day as a guessing game; he wanted fate to decide.
“I had been trapped for the past six months in a life with a deadline, and I had nothing to show for it.” He spoke solemnly. “I kept trying to fix myself, but nothing ever worked. Then you came along,” The corner of his lips rose in that familiar way. “After the past three months, I am certain. You are my purpose. I needed to take you here―for you, and for me.” He lifted her pendant to his lips, pressing it lightly against them. “For freedom.”
Tears began silently rolling down her cheeks. She didn't know how to accept it. She didn't know how much time he had left. She had completely forgotten about time, but now she felt it violently shoving them forward. She didn't know what to do.
“It's not fair,” her voice quivered.
He looked at her with a meek smile. “Please try to understand, there is something much bigger going on than what we know. You have done something great for me, and I was given the opportunity to do something great for you as well. I have all I need, and have done all I need to. I've accepted it. I can leave here completed. You now have the opportunity to take your freedom and live it. Maybe you will find someone else who needs saving before your time is up. You don't know.”
He took her hand and placed the silver coin in her palm, closing her fingers over it tightly. “Trust in fate. God's up there deciding what faces up and what faces down.” He took in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “Maybe when I'm wiser, He'll let me choose one time.”
He brushed away her last lingering tears. “Let fairness come down to the flip of a coin.”
Somehow, she understood. Or at least, she understood why she didn't understand. They both had freedom, and at the moment, that's all they needed.
He stood up, squeezing her hand with reassurance. “Let's get some sleep. It's been a long day.”
She stood up and followed him to the bedroom. As they fell asleep, she let her silent gaze transcend everything she felt for him. Words could never be enough. They drifted, and time passed.
-4-
Her eyes awoke with the sun peaking through the blinds of the small cabin. His did not.
Her silent gaze thanked him
For setting her free
That one September night.
