Deal with the Devil - A Short Story

Dry leaves float to the ground and crunch under his feet. He stares at them – shriveled patches of brown and yellow. The wheels of the chair squeak on the cobbled stones. He parks the chair by an old Oak tree, pushing it close to the painted wooden bench, pulling up the brake and tucking in the blanket around Sammy’s legs. Early morning breath mists over his glasses as he sits down and stares into the rest of the park.

Few people are about and only one boy stands glaring at his mother, tossing a ball from one hand to the other while the first frost of the season slowly melts under his booted feet. Further on a girl with a green sweater tugs at the leash restraining her Labrador, her rhythmic footfall only disturbed by the sharp barks of the dog.

Brian sighs and fingers the book in his hands. Sammy’s diary. Two years of marriage and he didn’t even know she kept one. Guilt makes him stare at Sammy. Her blond hair hangs limp around her angelic face, the blue eyes dull with what he hopes is incomprehension.  The darkness inside his mind creeps closer, casting grey shadows over the memories he treasures – keeping tune with the clouds above.

The leather is rough beneath his fingertips as he opens the diary. Yellow patches litter the first page. Sammy’s diary. He turns to the first entry

‘June 10, 2006

Today is my wedding day’

He tears his eyes away from the page. Sammy cocks her head to the side, but her eyes remain fixed on him.

“How much do you understand of this, my love?”

He folds the blanket over her shoulders and strokes her hair, marveling at her beauty even during the crippling illness. Sitting back down he reads the sentence again. The letters blur into one another as the memories flood in.

He walks up the steps of the chapel, inhaling the scent of roses and freshly cut grass. Summer buzzes around him and a trickle of sweat runs down his back. Magnolias pour their sweetness into the gentle breeze.  Heat waves dance on the tarred road behind, changing the shape of the parked cars. No one ventures outside without good reason. Those not in the chapel, and they are but a handful, hide inside their homes.

The bell chimes three times and Brian jumps at the sudden sound. He crushes the cigarette under his shoe adding to the pile already littering the steps. Sammy is fashionably late. Hank, his brother, promised to call him as soon as the bridal car comes round the bend on the other side of the church. He pushes his hand into the pocket of his jacket and clenches his fingers around the small velvet box.

Three years worth of savings sat in this little box, of working voluntary shifts to get the money for the ring.

The mobile phone shrieks in the afternoon silence. Brian gropes inside his pants pocket and answers the call. It is time.

Sammy walks towards him down the aisle and everything else fades into nothingness. The vision in white was soon to be his bride. Her father lifts the veil and Brian inhales sharply. Her blue eyes are alive with love and wonder. And it’s all for him. After today, Sammy is his forever. Nothing would separate them again – their happiness guaranteed.

A leaf resting precariously on the tip of his nose brings him back to the park He giggles and the sound shocks him into silence. Only the grass and the trees witness the tear sliding down his cheek. Sammy frets in the wheelchair and he pulls the chair closer to him.

“Oh, Sammy, we were so happy. I still love you, you know. No matter what happens, I will never leave you.”

A groan from the wheelchair startles him. He peers into the blue depths, trying to find any sign of comprehension. It was the first time she reacted to anything he did or said. He covers the cold white hand with his and drops his eyes to the diary.