U K Hero
PART THREE OF THREE
A Christmas Tale
The fire rekindled he retires once again to his ageing chair, this time with the thoughts of a song he wrote just after the war, A loving lament to try and appease his lost Melanie.
It was a major success, [his only claim to fame] he was sure that if Melanie were alive she would hear it and contact him, she never did.
He still believes that she never forgive him for his cutting comment. He sings…
Ode to Melanie.
Darkened skies and lonely days
Alone I look for you
I can not help but wonder
If love we had was true
Just one sign, a little time
To help my love hold onto
Wont you please come back and save me
Just one word to free me…
With lips trembling and tears streaming he is unable to finish the song, he gazes again aimlessly towards the wall were he believes the picture still hangs and through his trembling lips he mumbles a few words,
“I’m so sorry Melanie I don’t blame you”.
The wind did blow
And the fire did crack
To hear his sorrowful show…
Feeling the chill again he bends down and rolls another newspaper, strange he can smell perfume, but memories can play strange tricks on the mind, he sits back down.
A letter mixed within the piles of old papers was also thrown onto the embers and as the heat rose the letter burned curling within the embers, in doing so, it reveals;
I’ve found you…
Meet me at…
If your love is still true…
What a shame that the flames destroyed the letter before it was read. For some it’s like love in today’s life, they appreciate the warmth and pleasure that love gives them, but only for that moment, for when it leaves they become cold.
It’s a pity it burned so quick!
For Archie it was late, perhaps too late! He never had any clocks or watches; he deplored the time for every minute in darkness was a minute void of light. He considers his life;
In darkened days
And stumbling ways
I’ve tried to find a clue
My life is grim
I hurt within
But still I wait for you
For sunny days
And clearer ways
I beg the lord its you
Just a chance
And love anew
The wind blow and the fire cracked…
Tired he considers retiring. Such a long night alone and longer then most, but then again he has reminisced a lot.
Slowly and methodically he rises from his chair to curb the ailing fire.
As he bent down the wind did blew hard and the fire it cracked a mighty whip… in fright he leaps back hitting his head against the chair. He lays motionless for several minutes, during which his conscience fighting to breathe, speaks…
O’ darkness, I know thee so well
You can not hurt me
For years I have been with you
Can you not tell?
And let me see,
Have I not suffered enough?
See, I see not,
For bitterness doth keep me in hell.
And the wind did blow…
A Pangea of dictatorship trapped in self-pity
He rules his blackness with no paddles of hope
His thoughts the leader where attitude should be,
Bound in shackles of darkness tied with doubtful rope
His self-regime it is over… time to set him free.
He groans… and slowly he rises, why… he can see the fire it burns brightly… he rubs his eyes and gazes around the room… the gramophone, the picture is it…No! It’s gone where is it…it doesn’t mater HE CAN SEE.
O’ tremendous joy, and the tears ran like a river on his cheeks, on they flowed to drown his sorrowful sea. He feels lost, why can he see after so long.
And the wind did blow…
He can still smell that Parisian flair?
But who would call at this late hour. His sight not fully regained but clearing slowly as time went on, he fumbles with the living room door handle, now, standing in the hallway he can smell that familiar perfume but much stronger, with tears still falling he calls.
“Melanie, is that you?”
If it is her why does she not answer. Now running he lunges at the front door and swinging it wide… it is Melanie, they grabbed each other and squeezed and squeezed and hugged so hard. She speaks first.
Eight years my search
Was it long for you
The rendezvous at the church
It was right for us two
Did I pass the test!
But look at you
You can see!
Those early years of darkness
Must have been so very long
I kept sending messages
To keep you holding on.
I found your picture
On the altar, at the church!
I know it was a test for me
I never give up the search.
I’m glad you can see now
She takes a deep breath…
I’m still deaf!
There’s no need for Archie to say anything really she’s said it all, who was to know that the bomb that took his eyesight also stole Melanie’s hearing.
With clearer eyes he understands. He has a thought!
And then smiles, which should he buy first a calendar for himself or a hearing aid for Melanie, he just grins and hugs her again, it doesn’t mater they’re together…
And the wind calmed, and the fire… it burns a little brighter.
The little cottage
With hair all thatched
Smiles a little too
With special thanks to northern wind
It grins at lovers new
The story has not quite ended, for that little cottage with its smiley face and crackling fire now listens to the songs of a loving couple.
The hall has been decorated the living room full of life. Not much hangs on the walls through except for two pictures, and if you look a little closer at Archie’s copy of the black and white photograph, in the lower right hand corner written in an odd ink are the words;
If you love me, find me,
I am a man of
Search for a house of ivory
With a face of wooden mirth,
I carry the blame of sadness
For that day in Paris forever
If your heart will ever forgive me
Then in marriage we’ll be together.
Oh, and Melanie’s hearing! I guess we’ll just have to wait until next Christmas… when fires crack mighty whips and perfumed winds blow in love.
U K Hero + Caroline
[This message has been edited by U K Hero (edited 12-14-1999).]