The River Runs Wide

Iris was standing at the riverbank. staring unfocused at the water. The bank was quite wide at this secluded section, but one could not see it from above, although it was not that far from the main road. A small trail, hidden between bushes and trees, curved down to the river, invisible to the rushing cars on the boulevard.

The water was a shade of deep green, with golden hue of sunrays playing animated hide and seek with the thick foliage of the Weeping Willows, which adorned the river along its stretch. 

The air was full with sounds, the chirping of the young fledglings on the trees, the light breeze that rustled through the branches, and the loud sound of the streaming waters that hushed all other noises.   

Iris looked at the course of the river. The water ran as long as the eye could see and it hypnotized her, as always. It evoked in her a sense of comfort, of tranquility, though false, yet so tempting and inviting.  She knew that beyond the curve of the river, the water bustled on its way to the fall. She knew that underneath its calmed, enchanting surface, there were currents she could not see, nor predict. Yet, just to walk in, to let the cool, clear existence wrap her gently into its arms, carry her away into the endless horizon, and let her escape all that had happened.

She did not know why he had chosen her. Yes, they were lovers, for as long as it lasted, but it was so long ago that her skin couldn’t even recall his touch. Yes, she understood why this place. Secluded as it was, this was where they first made love. But why, after so many years, where they both had drifted away into separate lives that never touched again, he called her name again?

She pushed down one old, dirty sneaker, off her foot, trying to keep her balance, then the other, still holding the small black box in both her hands. She turned her eyes from the river, and looked down at her naked feet, feeling the little bleached pebbles that covered the embankment, against her soles. Her feet looked white and swollen, the result of her life-long eating habits, and the blue veins coursed all along her legs like a web of rough, bold rivers on a deserted terrain.

Holding the box now in one hand, Iris caught her long skirt in her other hand and started to walk cautiously on the little stones, watching every step, not to fall. It felt cold and painful, but she persisted. The river was calling her.

She stepped in and gasped in shock as the cold water enwrapped her feet. She sank into the soft muddy bottom of the river, and waited still to gain back her balance, and let her body get use to the chilling water. Her skirt trailed into the water, and the wind that picked up, blew it around her like a big, colorful sail. She took a deep breath in, smelling the damp air that rose from the river, and moved a little deeper. She felt the currents moving strongly between her legs. Ignoring the painful stings of cold that spread through her limbs, she stepped farther. Her feet went numb, and the water slowly licked its way under her skirt, up her legs. Iris held her breath, and tightened the little box to her large bosom.

“Hey! Lady! What are you doing?” She heard a man’s voice from aside. Iris turned her head but without her glasses, she couldn’t see clearly, only a shape of a boat, and a figure standing, bending forward as if to keep his balance in the moving vessel.  She wondered what he was thinking seeing her, a fat, drab, graying woman, entering into the river; as if she was trying to take her own life. She didn’t care. She had promised the lawyer, she would do it, that she knew exactly where he meant, even though she still didn’t understand why her.

“Hey! Lady! Wait! Don’t do it! Wait, I’m coming!” the man on the boat shouted. She heard a loud splash and looking aside, she saw that he fell into the water. “Oh, shit! It’s cold!” she heard him swear when his body encountered the freezing river. She took another step deeper, oblivious to the bitter cold. She needed to reach deeper into the water, otherwise Big Jeremiah won’t be part of the water he so loved.

Iris heard the man swimming with hard strokes and then he was beside her and gripped her arm.

“Hey! What are you doing here? It’s freaking cold!” His words came out in a rush, between his clattering teeth. “Don’t do it! There is always a better solution than to give up on life,” he softened his tone, and Iris turned sad eyes to him.

“It’s not my life here, it’s Jeremiah’s!” she said dispirited.  Jeremiah was gone, and the fine thread that connected them so long ago was now loosened forever; something tore in her heart. She slowly opened the black box in her hands. “Look! That’s all that is left of him!” she said in astonishment staring in disbelief at the small amount of white ashes that filled half of the box. “Big Jeremiah! And this is all that is left of his life! We don’t weigh much when we come into this world, and even less when we depart it.” She culminated her philosophical thought and in one wide movement of her arm, she spread the content of the small box into the river, crying loudly “Good-bye Jeremiah! Good-bye!”

The wind snitched Jeremiah into the air, carrying him above the river; and the River hugged Jeremiah into its depth, moving him swiftly into the eternal horizon where sky kisses water.

“We can go now!” Iris said, putting a comforting hand on the shoulder of the shivering man at her side.