"Winter Redemption"

     


It was a last night of the winter. The sky was clear. The moon lonely lingered in the sky, surrounding

by thousands of sparkling stars. Blanket of snow still covered edges of the Whispering Lake. Harry took

his shoes off and neatly placed them on the sand. He did not hesitate for a moment, holding a stack of

papers on his left hand and a camping stake on the right, taking a long deep breath, he plunged himself

into the dark freezing cold water.


        In a lovely rustic rental cabin, a walking distance from Whispering Lake, Harry, in the bathtub,

closed his eyes, emerging himself in the warm comfortable water, trying to think of nothing. His mind

was peacefully quiet, so was the cabin, except a soft sound of classical music came from a radio in the

living room and the distinct sound of his body movements in the water. Not for long the relaxing

tranquility broke off. Harry heard strange heavy footsteps matching in the living room. Moments later,

the sound of the footsteps stopped. It was just his imagination, he thought. The cabin returned its

tranquility.


After a long merging in the warm bathtub, Harry got off. Wrapping a towel around his body, he

tiptoed to the closet. Reaching out for a pair of blue jeans and a turtleneck shirt, he put them on as he

was entering the hall to the living room. Immediately after he crossed the hall, he became distraught and

frightened. He wouldn’t expect to see what he was seeing. There was a huge, bearded, long gray curly

hair man in an old wooly coat, his arms stretching open seeming so long that they would catch him in a

blink of the eyes, sitting on the couch. Harry’s feet were completely sealed in the floor. His eyes swept

around for some protections, but he utterly felt powerless in front of this man. The man waved his long

right arm suggesting calm and relaxing gesture. Still trembling, Harry finally was able to put himself

together.



“I don’t have anything to confess.”

The man looked at his eyes and demanded.

“Come and look me in the eyes and tell me the truth. I promise I will leave you alone

after it is all revealed.”

Harry felt his legs sunk further down.

The man’s voice became warmer and charismatic.

“Why did you do it? What were your motives?”

Harry paused for a moment. Then he walked to the couch on the opposite site of the man and sat down.

Looking in the man’s eyes, Harry became absorbed by his charismatic.

“So you really want to know.” Harry affirmed.

The man gently nodded.

Harry.

“I buried them.”

The man asked:

“Buried what?”

Harry.

“Letters!”

The man.

“Oh, you meant her perfume scented love letters.”

The man continued.

“Now we are getting somewhere.”

Harry.

“You know about her. Don’t you?”

The man satisfactorily affirmed.

“Yes indeed, I know every thing about her. However, there are other things I would like

to understand.”

He continued.

“Tell me, why did you want to bury her perfume scented letters?”

Harry.

“I hated them.” “I hated them ever-since I got the first one.”

The man.

“If you hated them why didn’t you tell her? And why did you have to keep them that

long?”

Harry.

“I couldn’t. Because I thought it wouldn’t be harmful to just keep them. I also felt that if I

did not love her, I should have at least treasured her thoughts and feelings.”

The man.

“I see. And you did not tell her about your feelings at all?”

Harry.

“No! I did not. I did not want to hurt her feelings.”

The man.

“Then what happened?”

Harry.

“Well, I avoided her, hoping that she eventually got my message. But when she found

where I lived, she came over and told me how much she missed me, and she wanted to

stay over.”

Harry softened his voice, he confessed.

“It was hard you know. It was very hard to hurt her feelings.”

Took a deep breath, he continued.

“Hurting one’s feelings was not my character, you know.”

The man.

“But that though has nothing to do with those perfume scented love letters that you

buried in the bottom of the Whispering Lake.”

Harry.

“I know but that will lead me to the point I am trying to make.”

He continued.

“I was young and naïve at the time. I did not have the courage to tell her that I did not

love her. I did not like ideas of her staying over. And I did not want to accept her love

letters either.”

Harry’s voice trembled.

“I…I…wouldn’t be able to see her heart broken.”

The man.

“Oh, now you are delighting me your mysteries.”

He continued.

“So how have you got rid of her finally?”

Harry took another deep breath.

“I have not. However, today is the day. Today is the day that I am going to tell her the

truth. I will tell her that I don’t love her and I would want her out of my life for good.”

The man.

“But why did you choose the Whispering Lake to be the buried ground for those letters?”

Harry.

“Poetically I guess.”

Harry’s voice became more determined.

“ I not just only buried them but also buried myself.”

The man.

“Buried yourself? What do you mean?”

Harry.

“I buried parts of my painful weaknesses.”

The man.

“What makes you think that you buried yourself?”

Harry.

“I thought at least I did.”

The man.

“What about the stake. What was it for?”

Harry.

“Oh, you meant the camping stake?”

Harry’s eyes glanced quickly at the unfolded canvas on the floor by the fireplace, which showed a stake

missing, as if he did not want the man to notice.

Harry confessed.

“I used it to anchor those perfume scented letters along with my weaknesses.”

The man.

“Huh. Isn’t it cinematic?”

He continued.

“Religiously speaking, it seems that you were trying to redeem yourself.”

Harry snapped back.

“What does make you think so?”

The man.

“Well, let’s me summarize it. You firstly chose the bottom of Whispering Lake as a place to

burry her love letters along with your weaknesses. You secondly chose water to redeem

yourself because water is a myth, a symbol of redemption. You thirdly chose the last day of

the winter, which represents blue, cold, lonely, confined, isolated, and secluded - lack of

lively spirit, to burry them. You finally chose walking into the first day of the spring, which

represents “A New You,” one who has just stepped out from the winter.”

The man delightfully rubbed his gray curly beard and continued.

“Is my analogy close to your theme?”

Harry.

“Wow, that was a quite impressive! It was quite close enough.”

Harry advanced.

“My intentions were…”

Harry paused it for a long moment.

“Indeed, genuinely cinematic.”

Regained his confidence, Harry burst out in laughter.

“Got you old man!”

The man gave a gentle, compassionate, and pleasing smile as he slowly disappeared under the warm

morning sun shining through a window.

It was the first day of the spring of 2004.

Popular Posts