A short story in two parts . . .
Part One:
The light of countless candles
softly illuminated the interior of the great room. The air was heavy with the
smell of melted wax. Smoke rose in a thousand columns to the high ceiling where
it pooled and swirled in the gently drifting air, blurring and softening the sight
of the carved beams that supported the ancient church’s roof.
A small crowd of men and women,
plainly and practically dressed, were seated in the highly polished, simple
wooden pews. A few bonneted heads drew close together as women chatted with
quiet enthusiasm.
A largish, well-rounded woman was
seated before the tiny pump organ near the front of the room, her well-corseted
figure threatening to overflow the bench. Her feet, nearly hidden in the heavy
folds of her long dress, manipulated the pedals with ease, and plump, practiced
fingers touched the keys reverently, filling the air with soft music and
providing the final, perfect touch.
A young man, dressed formally in an
obviously new, dark wool suit, stood nervously at the front of the room, eyes
darting between the elderly minister speaking in a low voice beside him, and
the front of the chapel.
Suddenly, the great, front doors
swung wide and the music swelled into the stains of the wedding processional. The
entire crowd slid quickly to their feet and all heads turned to see a veiled
figure, dressed in a simple white cotton gown, appear in the opening, clutching
a modest bouquet of wildflowers.
Smiles broke out on every face as
the bride proceeded into the room and stepped slowly and gracefully along the
aisle between the rows of benches in perfect time to the music.
The young man at the front, his
eyes locked on the vision that was slowly approaching, straightened his tie.
Then his shoulders. Then he cleared his throat and stretched his neck in its
uncomfortable stiff, white collar. Finally, he forced quivering lips into a semblance
of a smile.
The young woman reached him and
held out her hand.
He grasped it tightly and all
traces of nervousness vanished as he raised it to his lips, then tucked it
tenderly into the crook of his arm.
The two of them turned together to
face the minister.
The elderly cleric nodded to the
organist and the music drifted to a stop. Then he turned toward young couple, as
the people in the congregation quietly resumed their seats. “Dearly beloved,”
he said. “It is with great pleasure that I stand before you today, to join in
holy matrimony, this man . . .” he nodded to the young man, “. . . and this woman.”
Another nod.
The crowd watched him quietly and
expectantly.
The couple had turned and were
looking at each other. Through the heavy veil, the young woman’s mouth could be
faintly seen, curving into a soft, glowing smile. The young man’s eyes
glistened suddenly with unshed tears.
The minister went on. “It has taken
them no small amount of time and many twists and turns in life’s road to bring
them together. But here they stand before you at last.”
A soft sigh went through the
crowd and white handkerchiefs appeared in more than a few hands and were
pressed into service, fluttering gently.
The elderly man smiled. “Owing to
the difficulties they were forced to overcome in order to be here together
today, I will dispense with the mostly boring and certainly long winded and formal
words of wisdom I had planned to share and offer them only this: Love each
other. You deserve each other.”
He looked at the crowd, grey eyes
twinkling beneath heavy, white brows. “I think that should suffice, don’t you?”
Murmurs of assent in the crowd.
He turned back to the couple.
“Henry James Blakely, do you take this woman, Anna Mary Mildred Peavey, to be
your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, to love and to cherish?”
Henry tore his eyes away from the
woman beside him and looked at the minister. “I do,” he said, his voice
breaking over the two words. He cleared throat and tried again. “I do.”
A whisper of sound fluttered through
the crowd.
The minister smiled and nodded.
Then he turned to the young woman. “Anna Mary Mildred Peavey, do you take this
man, Henry James Blakely, to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to
hold, to love and to cherish?”
Anna turned to her companion, her
shadowy lips once more curving into a sweet smile. “I do!” she said clearly.
Another sigh from those watching.
“Then, it is with great pleasure
that I – finally – pronounce you man and wife,” the minister said. He smiled
widely. “Congratulations, Henry. You may now kiss the bride.”
With trembling fingers, the young
man caught the edge of the filmy veil and drew it up and back from his new
wife’s face.
Warm blue eyes smiled, then
drifted shut as Anna leaned toward him and pressed soft lips to his.
Henry’s arms went about her
gently, as though fearing he would crush her slender body.
Then the two of them broke apart
with a gasp and both faces coloured adorably. Henry once more tucked Anna’s arm
through his and the two of them turned finally to face the crowd.
“Hurray!” someone said and
several people laughed.
“Martin! Not in the church!”
More laughter.
“Dearly beloved,” the minister
said, putting one hand on Henry’s shoulder and the other on Anna’s, “It is with
great pleasure that I introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Henry Blakely!”
This time, several people cheered
and a couple applauded.
The organ swelled into the Wedding
March and the newly-wedded couple led the way along the aisle to the front
doors. The minister followed closely and the church emptied as everyone crowded
in behind them, talking and laughing.
Finally, the last two people
swung the heavy front doors shut with a whoosh and a boom.
Instantly, every light went out.
Charming, sweet and slightly spooky.
ReplyDeleteLove it. Can't wait to read the rest!
ReplyDeleteThere is more to come........I hope.
ReplyDeleteOh! That last line gave me goosebumps! Looking forward to the last half ...
ReplyDeleteAnd then? And then! More!
ReplyDeleteI always enjoy your posts--look forward to them, in fact. this one showed a side of you that surprised and delighted me. Keep the story coming, please.
ReplyDeleteI do love a wedding, but cliffhangers have me on the edge of my seat waiting for the rest.
ReplyDelete