Several years ago, I entered a short story contest. The idea of the contest was they gave you the first line and you came up with the rest of the story in 750 words or less. This was my entry that I simply entitled, "The Ring." I hope you all enjoy it.
The Ring
by
Raymond Tyler
“If you can guess what I have in my pocket, you can have it.”
My grandfather said this with a twinkle in his eye.
“I have no idea, Grandpa, what is it?”
Lying in his bed, he took a deep raspy breath. I picked up a washcloth, dipped it in a bowl of cool water, and wiped his forehead.
“My dearest Caroline, if I tell you, it will ruin the surprise.”
He gave me an enigmatic grin daring me to at least put forth a guess. This had been a game my grandfather had enjoyed playing with me since I was a child. I took a deep breath and said, “It must be something small, as to fit in your pocket. I doubt it is a stick of gum – perhaps, it’s a photo of some kind?”
He smiled, coughed, and shook his head no.
“Maybe an earring?”
His eyes lit up, but he still shook his head no.
“I must be getting closer, if it’s not an earring, what about just a ring?”
His wrinkly face broke into a toothy smile with watery tears brimming in his eyes, “Yes, my dear, you are correct.”
With a great deal of effort, he reached into his pocket, and when he brought back his hand, an old beautiful ring was in his palm. At the sight of the ring my eyes filled with tears, and in a voice choked with emotion, I said, “Grandma’s wedding ring.”
In a wistful voice, he replied, “You are getting married tomorrow. She would have wanted you to have this.”
I took the ring out of his hand, turned it over, then took off my engagement ring, and put my grandmother’s wedding ring on. The ring fit perfectly. I held the ring up with the back of my hand to the glow of a small table lamp. An elegance of both old and new shone from the ring, as the light reflected off of it. I had always dreamed of having her ring.
By now tears silently flowed down my face. “Grandfather, I love it. Thank you so much.”
He too wept silently and fell back onto his pillow. His breathing became more ragged and labored.
“Caroline, I need my rest. I am sorry I won’t be able to be at your wedding tomorrow, because I am too sick. But, carry my spirit and your grandmother’s spirit in your heart, and know we’ll always love and be with you.”
I hugged him, and kissed him on his forehead, thanking him for the beautiful ring. My fiancé Thomas was waiting outside for me. When I left, I fell into his arms and cried, telling him about my grandfather’s gift. He suggested I use my grandmother’s ring instead of the ring he bought for me. I loved both rings, but I felt I would insult him and his family if I used my grandmother’s ring.
That night my grandfather passed away. The gift of my grandmother’s wedding ring was my last memory of him. The following day I got married using the ring Thomas had bought for me. I put my grandmother’s ring on a necklace and wore it around my neck in remembrance of her and my grandfather.
About a week after my marriage to Thomas, he asked to borrow my wedding ring along with my grandmother’s ring. I asked him why, but he just asked that I trust him. When he arrived home later that night, he was beaming.
“Close your eyes Caroline, I have a surprise for you.”
I laughed and then closed my eyes.
“No peeking. Give me your left hand.”
I gave him my left hand, and felt him slip on my wedding ring.
“Open your eyes.”
I opened my eyes and felt my breath catch.
“Oh my goodness! Thomas, I love it!”
I threw myself into his arms, giving him the biggest hug I could muster.
What he had done was take my ring, and my grandmother's ring and get both rings soldered together to become one.
I held my hand with the ring up and let the light reflect off of it.
“It’s perfect Thomas, a melding elegance of both old and new.”
14 March 2014
14 March 2014
