Cold rain drenched Ramona through her clothing. Her skirt
clung to her legs and strands of her red hair whipped her in the face as she
ran. Her chest began to feel tight, not from running, but from an overwhelming
pain that was gripping at her heart. She could not take the hospital any
longer, so she had ran. Ran when the doctor told her the news, ran from her
father’s arms, ran from the white walls into the grayness of Boston. She passed
men and women, who protected under their umbrellas, made quizzical looks at
her. She did not care. All she wanted was to run and never stop. Perhaps the
past would stay in the hospital room, perhaps if she ran far enough she could
keep it inside her. But as it is with emotions, the ache in her heart overwhelmed
her and she collapsed, right down into the mud under a tall oak tree, and let a
scream of turmoil and grief escape past her lips. Hot tears streamed down her
cold cheeks and her body began to shake with uncontrollable sobs. Ramona raised
her gloved hands to her face and rocked back and forth, back and forth.
Her mother was gone. Gone, forever. Never again would she
play a song for her mother and see her blue eyes sparkle with delight. Never
again would she be called “Mony”. How could she be gone? How could Ramona have
let that man near her? How could she have loved him? William, with his lies,
William with his rage, William with his lust. He had taken her mother from her.
She had been so besought by his dark looks and gentlemanly ways she had never
seen what he was capable of. She had been fooled by a very convincing actor.
Her heart began to pound and blood of rage rushed through her body as another
scream flew out of her before she could stop it. She did not care if she was
being looked at, she did not care if all the rules of society were being
broken. She had left them behind in that hospital room with her mother’s body.
God why did you let
this happen? Why? She screamed in her head. She was so angry with God that
she could almost not think straight. She leaned her head against the trunk of
the tree and felt the cool rain add relief to her hot and angry face. Ramona
was surprised that even in her anger she could hear the Lord say one word. Peace.
Peace. Goodness how she longed for it. Time passed, or did
it? Ramona was not sure. She spent the time crying to God and waiting for his
answers. Finally the peace she had looked for began to consume her and her sobs
began to slow. When her crying stopped all together, she began to finally feel
the shivers of cold creep up her spine. Slowly she got to her feet and opened
her eyes for the first time, letting a raspy breath creep from her lips. She
was freezing. At snails pace, Ramona turned her head to take in her
surroundings. She was more than a block from the hospital. The walk back would
be grueling in this rain. Her father was probably worried sick. Ramona sighed
and began to walk back to the hospital, arms crossed, back hunched no
resemblance of a lady of high society left in her appearance.
“Excuse me Miss” She heard a soft voice from behind her.
Shocked that someone was addressing her, she spun around to
find a tall man with dark hair and green eyes looking at her from under the
protection of his black umbrella.
“Are you alright?” He said looking her straight in the eyes.
His abruptness took her by surprise and Ramona tilted her head in astonishment
that someone would address her in this state. What could she say to this
stranger?
“Oh no sir, I am fine.
My mother just died at the hand of my fiancé and I just sat for God knows how
long in the wet mud.” But instead of this, she made no reply but just
looked at him. Hoping that he would find an answer in her eyes and leave her
alone.
He looked back at her with a gaze that she had never before
encountered, and nodded.
“Here,” he said as he handed her his umbrella. She took it
from him not taking her eyes from his.
She began to make a murmur of protest but he held up his hand.
“You need this more than I. Can I walk you somewhere?”
Ramona shook her head, still shocked at this man’s
generosity.
“Well then, “ He said (did she detect a small hint of a
Scottish accent in his voice?) “You have a blessed day Miss.” And with that he
walked away, leaving Ramona sheltered under his umbrella.She tried murmuring a "thank you" but nothing would come. He was already walking out of sight, rain glistening off his dark, curling locks. It wasn’t until she
was on the steps of the hospital that she realized she had not even asked him
his name.
