The Weight

The box was small, but carried with it an immense weight. Doug sat alone beneath the gentle summer sun and hefted the ring case, fingered it, but didn't open it. He didn't need to, he knew every detail of the engagement ring within. He had looked upon it so many times he knew every angle of the precious diamond: the intricate setting and the delicate band on which it lay. He had planned to propose to her when they went away on vacation together.

Doug and Beth had met through a mutual friend at work and had quickly fallen in love. She was Doug's best friend. He had wanted the week leading up to the proposal to be flawless, as well as the night itself.

Unfortunately for Doug, his plan began to unravel when Officer Gerald Abrahamson noticed Doug was driving erratically one day during the evening commute. Gerald wasted no time in hitting the lights and pulling Doug's Jeep to the side of the road. He then learned that Doug suffered from a medical condition called Hypoglycemia, where his blood sugar was prone to dropping below normal levels. This often caused irregular behavior, such as confusion or mood swings.

Officer Abrahamson worried about the young man's ability to safely operate a motor vehicle, but he immediately liked Doug, who took the time to chat with Gerald while eating a snack, then promised to be more responsible when taking the wheel. Gerald sent him on his way.

When he returned to the station, however, he told another cop of the incident with Doug.

She sipped her coffee and nodded vigorously, "There was a diabetic in Brunfield yesterday. Same thing; she had a seizure and drove into the side of a supermarket. Almost killed a little old lady and her grandkids."

That got Gerald thinking. What if Doug were to lose control of his vehicle and injure -- or kill -- an innocent bystander? Abrahamson's name was on the report; it could come back and bite him on the ass if he let a guy go who could be a danger to others.

So, Officer Abrahamson did the only thing he felt he could do: he filed the report to the Registry and asked that Doug be considered an "Immediate Threat -- Medical."

Doug was certainly surprised when he got the letter the following week from the state, informing him that his license had been canceled.

Of course Doug planned to appeal. He contacted his doctor to see if she could grease the Wheels Of Justice, to encourage the Registry to reinstate his license. He also called a lawyer friend of his to see, legally, what legs he had to stand on when fighting this.

But he had more important things to worry him, and he was very focused on the proposal during the first couple days of vacation. He was certain he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and was pretty sure she felt the same. But with these things you never know, and he spent days trying to psych himself into popping the question. It would be during dinner at a very romantic restaurant at which he had made reservations.

That night was beautiful. Beth looked gorgeous: her hair was up, and her new dress fit as though it was made for her. Doug couldn't take his eyes from her; she was radiant, "You look like you belong on a red carpet, Sweetie. You ready to go?"

She touched her head, "I'm coming down with a migraine, Honey. I can't drive."

Oh God, no! "I'll drive."

She shook her head, "Sweetie, without a license, you could get yourself into more trouble."

"No, no, no. It's no big deal, I'll just get us there and back. No problem, if you're up to it."

She smiled, "This dress makes me feel awesome! There's no way I'm taking it off now."

Doug's heart sang as he fell even deeper in love with her. He hugged and kissed her, then whispered in her ear, "We'll work on that later."

"Ooooh, naughty boy," Beth quietly growled into Doug's ear, then gave him a quick pinch on the butt.

The ring hummed in Doug's pocket. His uncertainty was gone. He was confident he would propose to her that night, and knew she would say yes. The timing was perfect, he could finally feel it. They were ready.

The drive to the restaurant was quiet for the first few miles. Doug kept thinking of how beautiful Beth was, and how much he loved her.

As they neared the restaurant, a drunk driver barreled around the corner and blew the red light. The only thing Doug saw as they approached the intersection were the blinding headlights before impact, then nothing.


++++++++++++ ++++++++++++++ +++++++++++++


Doug did not awaken so much as swam into consciousness through a drug-induced molasses. The pain from his crushed hip and mangled legs was unbearable, and he spent days in an agonized stupor calling out for Beth. He eventually became cognizant enough for the doctors to inform him that Beth had died in the accident, and that they had tried everything and they were sorry.

The crash had broken his body, but that news broke his soul.

As Doug sat motionless in his wheelchair in the hospital's solarium, he could not feel the warm summer sun upon his back and shoulders. In his right hand was the box.

The ring no longer hummed and his heart no longer sang. All was quiet within him.

In his left hand was his copy of the police report and a letter from the Registry. They were to inform him that even though the onus of the accident was completely on the drunk driver, who had walked away from the wreck, they were legally required to permanently rescind his license and send him to jail for driving without a license.

Doug would occasionally drift toward rational thought, and during those times he would cry and slowly stroke the ring case. It was at those brief windows of lucidity that he ever spoke, and sometimes during the stillness of the night the ward nurses could hear him murmur, "I never asked, I never got the chance to ask her..."



end.