An Unexpected Proposal

A lonely woman proposes to a drug addict.

An Unexpected Proposal

She could see her silhouette in front of her; oddly dark compared to the sky of dusk. The sun had glazed gently down the horizon like cream icing on a cake. The sky was in a melting pot of colours. Aquamarine, blue, purple, orange and red; all her favourite colours bloomed and peaked with pride one last time before the last streak of light vanished.

Impermanence was what made the sunset beautiful, she thought. Thick puffy clouds wholeheartedly caressed each other and formed new shapes. Some were bigger; some were smaller; nevertheless beautiful to the naked eye. Colours flowed like streams with different inlets into the infinity of paradise, smoothly and picturesquely like an artist creating a masterpiece. She sought to capture the moment as an artist would; by comparing the sky’s movement to a spontaneity of the brush. The burst of colour; she attributed to a delicate harmonization of watercolours.

She breathed in deeply and for the first time in her life, was really aware of her presence in this clearing. She always had an appreciation for this plain clearing, and this caused her to beautify the clearing. Just today she saw everything somewhat for the plainness that it was and treasured its existence even more. For the mere fact that plainness is what we all ignore. Humanity yearns for beauty, yet not everything is beautiful. The plain shall fade away unremembered.

She had made up her mind then. She closed her eyes lightly. It was then she felt a light tap on her shoulder. She knew it was him. She turned and saw his features; darkened by the lack of light. She moved away from the clearing and faced him.

He had features anyone would remember, she thought. He had oval eyes the colour of emeralds. His face was contoured by a rather large nose and hard lips. His hair was black and short.

He mentioned that she wanted to meet him here. She nodded, walking towards a lone street light ten meters away. Everything I want to say has to be said clearly, she thought. This means that he must be able to see me clearly.

He looked at her, slightly dazed and amused. She had, for most of her part, behaved erratically towards him. Yet this element of unpredictability was what he liked most about her. After all, he was the one who wanted to get any from routine life and from expectations. He chose to live a day to day existence with no care in the world.

He looked at her long unruly hair which she carelessly shook to avoid covering her face. Now, what about her face? She had a very good complexion. Her eyes were wide; her nose was blunt and her cheeks always looked sun-kissed. He thought, no one would forget a face like that.

She mentioned that they had known each other for some time now �" two months to be exact �" and that she felt that they got along well enough. He agreed and could not help being his blunt self. 

“At first you avoided the village junkie at all costs. Yet you were charmed and you slowly joined him in his wayward ways.”

She smiled.

“Now, how could I be so cruel as not to help a junkie on the brink of starvation?” She said.

She gave him a playful push forward.

He pretended to fall on the ground in slow motion. They laughed.

It was getting darker by the minute, and she had to say it. She found it difficult but she had nothing to lose.

“When I met you, I was still living with my aunt and family. I practically had no life of my own. Eventhough I am an old woman, I am still very much controlled by them.” She started.

She would have trailed on but he stopped her there.

“Old woman?” He winked.

“Yes, at forty and still I never had a life outside this village. It was not entirely their fault. I was too meek to start out on my own. Life just passed me by.” She said, as a matter of fact.

“I meant that forty is not old. You still have a whole life ahead of you, silly woman.” He said, this time a little seriously.

“I had always been of delicate health and was never much interested in things except in books �" these books brought me to a whole new world and I learnt so much, experienced so much through the play of language that I felt all warm and cosy inside.” She said, her eyes twinkling.

He marvelled at her praise for books. He thought that she was a simpleton. She could be happy with so little.

Then without warning, she asked, “Would you like to marry me?”

His eyes widened, “What has it got to do with books or anything that you’re saying?”

Then in his mind came the thought that she was lonely and at forty, she was getting old. She wanted a husband.

“I’m sorry. I did not want to scare you. The marriage would be for a maximum of one year, not more.” She said.

“You set a time frame for a marriage to last?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes.” She said.

“Why?” He asked.

Despite the fact that he did not want to marry her, he was upset of the fact she thought him a husband worthy only for one year.

“It is not like you want to be married to me for a longer time.” She said.

“Then why get married in the first place?” He asked.

“I want to get out of my aunt’s house, and I think you are an interesting person. You do crazy things, and I want to do all these things too. I want to have an activity partner.” She said.

“What crazy things? You are crazy enough to ask me to marry you.” He said.

Looking at him, she saw that his eyes were blazing with strong emotion.

She looked down, was silent for a while before she faced him again.

“I’m sorry for asking. Let’s forget it.” She said.

“Yes. That’s right. Forget it. I am no one’s husband nor am I getting married to anybody.” He snapped.

He wondered what she knew about him or whether she had gone too far in her eccentricities. Perhaps she was not right in her head.

“Furthermore, why do you want to marry a village junkie who is no good for nothing? You like to get high with me? Or something else?” He asked.

“I like that you do whatever you want. No one tells you what to do. You are free. When you are not doing drugs, you go fishing, make beautiful furniture from wood and you play really nice songs on your guitar. You also…” She said.

“Enough!”

His voice was stern and his expression unreadable.

“I’m sorry.” She said.

Then, she turned and headed to her aunt’s house to call it a day. Aunt Fanny reprimanded her for being late. It was nine o’clock and rather early but her aunt had a curfew on her ever since she was a child of five. She was supposed to be back by seven o’clock and that was it. Grandmother frowned and would not speak to her. Uncle Wilfred shook his head, saying that she would never grow up. To add salt to the wound, her younger cousin Elizabeth smirked and called her a loose woman.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been hanging out with junkie Peter and that s**t Suzanne?”

She asked, very nicely but her tone was one of dryness, devoid of concern.

“I was with Peter. We were just talking.” She said.

Her family turned the house upside down and after an hour of lecture, she was finally permitted to go to bed. She did not defend herself further as Grandmother would lock her room door and she would be late for work. She cannot explain to her boss that her grandmother locked her door because she broke her curfew. It happened once and her boss thought that she was trying to be funny. After all, she was forty years old.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Jane was upset but glad that she had asked Peter to marry her. At least I have tried, she thought. One of the things that you ought to do in your life is to ask a man to marry you. She could have said that she was crazy about him but she was too embarrassed to admit her feelings for him.

After work that evening, she went to Suzanne’s. She was cradling her baby in her arms and singing a lullaby.

She asked Suzanne about the song she was singing. Suzanne shrugged, saying that she made it up, just like a lot of things in her life. She made things up as they come. Her child born out of wedlock caused her to be the village s**t. Yet, she stayed as she was poor and had nowhere to go for the time being. She had very few friends, and Jane was her best friend.

Jane had never asked Suzanne who the father of her child was as she did not want to upset Suzanne. Many villagers suspected Peter, the junkie but Suzanne has denied this. This was fuelled by the fact that Peter did visit Suzanne now and then.

Suzanne told Jane that Peter had come to her last night to talk about the proposal, as he called it. Jane tensed and asked her what happened. Suzanne said that she told Peter everything.

“What do you mean everything?”

Jane’s heart skipped a beat.

Suzanne felt empathy and compassion for her friend.

“I told him what you told me.” She said.

“It was confidential.” Jane said.

“I felt that he would marry you if he had full disclosure of the facts.” Suzanne continued.

Jane did not answer.

Suzanne went on.

“This is the man you love or at least, in your own words, are crazy about. I want to help you. After all, it’s only for one year. I want you to have that very happy one year. You deserve it.”

There were tears in their eyes. Jane hugged Suzanne.

She had a heart condition which slowly deteriorates and doctors had given up hope on her seeing it through. She had decided against conventional treatment which would make her suffer more and restrict her mobility. She hid this from her family as she did not want to be confined home. Moreover she realised that she had done so little in her forty years of life! She wanted to love someone, and see wanted to be naughty in her own way. To rebel, to see the world, to do as she wished…

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

Peter did know that Jane lived in undesirable conditions. He dared not come to her aunt’s house although he knew where it was. He was generally avoided by the villagers and the more vocal ones like Uncle Wilfred had taunted him in public, calling him junkie and good-for-nothing, living under welfare leech. The junkie part was true at least.

He did have a drug problem and it was not easy to get out of it. He had good days and he had bad days where he would slip into a fantasy world. Drugs wore its ugly head then. Since he met Jane, he had managed to balance his life a little bit more. She never addressed his addiction. She merely talked to him. By talking to her, he managed reduce his addiction. They talked about everything except his addiction.

He recalled the first time he met her. He was in a pretty bad shape; dirty, smelly and just hungry. He had no money to buy food and was wandering around the village. He noticed her watching him, and slowly she walked towards him and gave him a sandwich with a packet of fruit juice. She did not say anything, but she looked at him straight in the eye. There was that one moment when their eyes locked. The feeling was surreal for him until she glanced to her purse and fished out a twenty dollar note and pressed it into his hands.

After that, she left. When they met again one week later, he gave her two ten dollar notes. This time he had sobered up and was neither dirty nor smelly. She had said thank you very much, and in return, he said that she was very welcome. He asked for her name and she for his. That was how their acquaintance started.

He had gone to Suzanne who was a mutual friend of theirs. He was shocked to hear what she had to say. He would marry her now.

He saw her walking towards the clearing to a narrow lane which led to her aunt’s house. He stopped her there from behind the trees as he did not want anyone from her family to see him, more because it would cause unnecessary trouble for her.

“I want to marry you.” He said.

“You are then aware that I have one year to live.” She said.

“Yes.” He said.

“I’m so sorry to hear that you are…”

He could not bring himself to say the words.

“I know that you are marrying me out of pity and I really do appreciate what you are doing for me. I know that you do not love me and this is really good.” She said.

“I don’t understand. What good can it bring you if I do not love you?” He asked.

 “You will not mourn for me when I am gone.” She said.

“Oh.” He managed to reply.

“I want to make sure that this is not a one-sided agreement. Every month, you will receive a quarter of my salary. When I pass, all that I have in my bank account will go to you. It is not a lot but it can ensure that you lead a comfortable life for the next two years I think, depending on how you spend the money.” She said.

He did not speak but looked at her intensely.

She was aware of his intense look and quickly added that she would write it all up officially in a contract and in her will, least should he worry about getting the money. It would not go to her family. They were rich enough.

“Don’t worry about us sharing the same bed too. We will lead our own lives. The only thing I ask for is that I stay in your house.” She said.

“I agree to your terms.” He said.

They were reasonable, in his opinion. In fact, he had so much more to gain. In fact, this poor woman was just marrying him to move out of her aunt’s house. He felt sorry for her.

So it was agreed. The documents were drafted and deposited at the lawyer’s office.  They had gone to church to get married. Suzanne was the bridesmaid and the best man. Jane had told her family of her intention. They protested to her marriage and came to the church to voice their objections.

“You are so carried away that you can no longer think for yourself.”

“You ungrateful brat. What would my dead sister say?”

“He will leave you. Be sure of that.”

The priest refused to accept objections without basis and so the marriage was sealed. Suzanne explained to the priest what was going on. He was very understanding. When he said that the groom may kiss the bride, Peter reached down towards Jane and brushed her lightly on her lips, much to her joy at being kissed for the first time. Their lips lingered, only to be pulled apart by Uncle Wilfred who punched Peter right on the nose.

“You crook. You’re only after her money. You’re after our family fortune!” He yelled.

Peter’s nose started to bleed. Jane screamed; rushing towards her husband, and wiped the blood with the sleeves of her simple wedding dress.

Peter rose to retaliate but Uncle Wilfred had already fled.

The wedding was both a joy and a disaster. It happened and she was finally a married woman. She could tick marriage off her list now.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Marriage life was a happy one. She was away from home for the first time in her life. She felt freedom in all aspects of life. She spent much time with him during the late afternoons and evenings after work. They would go for long walks together and talk about everything under the sun. He was finally able to keep away from drugs and occupied his mornings doing carpentry work for the villagers. In the afternoons, he went fishing in the lake. By late afternoon, he was already waiting for her at home. Sometimes he had a fish at hand and cooked a lovely fish meal for dinner, which she liked a lot. At night, they would make music together. He played the guitar and sang while she listened. Sometimes she played the old piano in the corner of the room.

On her part, she made sure he received his monthly payment. She was afraid that if he did not, he would leave, although some part of her mind told her that he pitied her anyway.

They kept to their arrangement of separate beds. His house was a small one and had only one bedroom, so he slept in the living room. Sometimes he was inconvenienced by the thought of having a woman in the house. Other times, he accepted the situation with an open heart.

After six months living together, he suggested that they move to the city where his friend has a bigger house which was more comfortable for the both of them. She was concerned about rent, and he told her that his friend owed him big time for some drug related stuff. So this was basically returning a favour. She did not ask more questions as she had never did intrude into his drug life. She felt that it was a personal and sensitive issue for him.

They asked Suzanne to move with them but she refused. She said that she had something to prove to the villagers �" that she is no village s**t. Furthermore the father of her child, she finally revealed to them; was the village priest. He had been making amends to her and she was willing to accept him into her life. He had to leave the church to be with her. She had forgiven him.

The new house in the city was perfect. They had three bedrooms with adjoining bathrooms, a spacious kitchen, a lovely living room and best of all was the garden with a pond. She spent much of her time in the garden, just reading. She went out to the city and explored places with him. By the seventh month, she had quit her job, anticipating that the end was almost near. She was concerned that he was spending too much time with her, which he reassured her by saying that he had nothing better to do since there was no wood in the city for him to do woodwork. He was basically living on welfare anyway.

One day, they went out for a walk at the edge of the city where there was a small park. A railway track cut across the park. Other than that, it was relatively quiet.

They talked about her health, which had been good so far. She was pleased with it. He looked in admiration of her strength. He felt a longing in his heart suddenly.

Because they had eyes for only the other, they did not notice that they were treading upon the railway track. Jane slipped and got her sandal buckle became stuck under the tracks. She could not get her feet out from the buckle, and the buckle from the tracks.

They heard the train coming, and Peter started panicking. He pulled and chugged at the entangled buckle and they saw the train just meters in front of them. Jane shouted at Peter to leave her there.

“Go, Peter. Don’t be silly. Just leave the buckle. Let it be.”

She had yelled over the chugging and smoke emitted by the old-fashioned cargo train.

He did not seem to hear her, still engrossed in pulling at her buckle.

She hit him hard on his face, yelling.

“The train is here, Peter. The train is going to hit you if you don’t leave me. I’m due anyhow. I’m not worth it.”

He pulled even harder and just at the nick of time, both Peter and Jane escaped the train. He grabbed her tiny frame, enclosing his arms around her body. They rolled to the side of the tracks, bruising their bodies. The train sped past them, bringing a gush of wind as it passed.

It was a while before either of them spoke. They glanced at each other; the enormity of what happened begun to sink in.

“Are you alright?” He asked her.

She nodded.

He stared at her from top to bottom, and then was silent.

“Shall we go home?” Was all he said to her.

Her sandal was crushed from the impact of the train. What remained was a flattened piece of red and splintered cork �" the colour of her sandals.

Realising belatedly that she only had one sandal and could not walk properly, he carried her like a baby with her head on his shoulders.

“I’m alright really. Let me walk.” She protested.

“I insist.” Came his curt reply.

He said nothing more and was aloof the entire evening. She was aware of his change of mood since the near collision. She knew why. It was because she was not suffering from her heart condition. According to the doctor, any shocking incident would bring pressure to her heart. Yet, she did not feel anything apart from relief and then sadness when she realised he was acting coldly towards her.

The next day, she went to her doctor’s clinic. One of the doctors examined her, checked her records and cleared his throat.

“Jane, you are not going to die! You do not have that dreaded heart condition. Congratulations!” Said the doctor.

“What do you mean?” She asked, not believing her ears the first time.

“We misdiagnosed you last year. The doctor who did so has been suspended from practice. He was regularly on the drink. He made many wrong diagnoses.”

The doctor beamed from ear to ear, expecting Jane to be relieved.

Jane was relieved and happy all right, but she thought of the entire burden that she put Peter through. He at least, expected her to die soon. He would think that she was lying to him, just using him to get out of her miserable life.

Jane did not look quite well and this prompted the doctor to ask her how she was feeling.

“Good, I’m good.” She said, and quickly left.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

He arrived home to an empty nest. He found that she had packed her bags and left. He was amazed at such erratic behaviour and did not know what to think. He found an envelope on her tidily made bed, her perfectionist streak apparent in the way that there were no creases whatsoever on the sheets. Pulled tight and rigged apart, he liked to tease her about it. She would answer that she felt like she was staying at a hotel, and she liked the feeling of staying in a hotel. She had said that she always wanted to escape her aunt’s house, that is why.

He hastily opened the envelope and skimmed through its contents, then re-reading it for clarity. He spoke aloud, “Not like this. Not like this.”

He drove to her aunt’s house in the village, hoping to see her there but the whole house was quiet and locked up for some reason. He asked a neighbour about where the family was, and was told that they went on holiday some two weeks ago to the south of France. First holiday in twenty five years, said the neighbour. They will be back next week.

He did not know where else she could have gone, but he took consolation in the fact that she could have not gone to France. He returned home, disappointed and mad that she took off just like that. He called her on her mobile phone, but he only got her voice mail. He left messages, asking her to call him back.

At night, he read her letter many times, again and again. It was in a cursive font, rather uncertain lines yet elegant.

Hi Peter/Harry,

After yesterday’s incident with the train, you treated me differently and I know that you wondered why I wasn’t affected by fright and shock. I wondered why myself and thus I went to the doctor. To cut the long story short, I am not going to die. I do not have a heart condition. The doctor who misdiagnosed me was a drunkard. He has since been suspended from practice.

I am really sorry to have put you through this marriage. I had no intention to mislead you. I honestly thought I had only a year to live. I hope that you will believe me. Therefore upon returning home, I signed the annulment papers which I found on your study table. I guess that you had already prepared it months ago just in case our marriage lasted longer than necessary. I saw that you had already signed them. I brought them to your lawyers so that we can settle this issue as quickly as possible. Your lawyers will get in touch with you.

I wish you all the best in your future endeavours.

With my warmth,

Jane

He had a sleepless night thinking about her and how mistaken she was about him. She thought he was angry at her for misleading him. He was not. He was distant and aloof because he wanted to tell her that he cared for her, loved her even and that he would do anything to see her get well. He had wanted to tell her to seek medical treatment and that he had all the resources in the world.

He wanted to tell her many things, among others that he was in fact Harry Thornton, a reclusive millionaire businessman. He became a drug addict because of a failure in love. The woman he thought he loved was only using him to get back at him. She was in fact in love with his business rival. She stole and sold his trade secrets and he lost quite a bit of his fortune because of this woman. From there, he distrusted women in general until he met her �" Jane. Since Jane had told him that her disease was incurable, the issue of medical treatment did not come up.

Jane was at Mr. Pickford’s law firm. She had signed the annulment papers and decided to bring it to the firm personally as she saw that Peter had put in his signature. So, Peter was not Peter. He was in fact Harry Thornton, the millionaire who disappeared from the scene some two years ago. He did not need her money, she thought. He was not honest with her as well, she thought. He was a great many things, but most of all, he did give her good company.

She did not know where to go. Her aunt’s house was locked up and she heard from the neighbour next door that they went to the south of France. She was rather surprised. They hardly ever go on holidays. Have they changed or did they really decide that they needed a holiday? Then she thought of going to Suzanne’s. She was at the gate when she gazed in through the curtains and saw the priest and Suzanne together with their lovechild. She did not want to intrude.

She then remembered the old house Peter or whatever his name was had. She went back and was glad to find that the key was under the flower pot. No one had known it was there or perhaps no one bothered. It was a simple house. She spent the night at their old home. She told herself that she ought to find a job soon and perhaps the city would give her more choices. For the time being, she just needed somewhere to stay.

She noticed that she had twenty calls from Peter and a few voice messages. She had switched off her phone on purpose because she did not want to be distracted by him. She had a feeling that he might call to ask her where she was out of concern and she would burst into tears. She wanted to wait until she was calmer and got everything sorted.

She listened to the voicemails.

Hi Jane, you left without telling me. I am not angry with you. Where are you? Could we meet up?

Hi Jane, I really need to speak to you. I am looking for you and I don’t know where you are. Call me back.

Hi Jane, I’m sorry for being distant and aloof with you yesterday. I was very concerned about you. I am worried about you. I won’t bother you if you tell me where you are…I …

She listened to the messages until the last one which was cut-off midway as he spoke too much while the message duration was only two minutes or so.

There were tears in her eyes. Perhaps she should call him now. She did.

“Peter. It’s me, Jane.” She said.

There was no need for her to say who she was. He already knew from the first word.

“Where are you, Jane?” He asked.

“At our old house.” She said.

“I’ll be there. Stay where you are.” He said.

“Ok.” She said.

She gathered that it would be better to talk to him face to face as he wanted to speak to her. He arrived within the hour. He must have been speeding, she thought. Hopefully he does not get a speeding ticket on my account, she thought.

When he saw her, he ran towards her and hugged her tight. At first, she was rather wooden in his arms like a doll. Then she embraced him back, hard and tight. She did miss him, a whole lot. But then again, she had always missed him because she knew he was not hers for the taking. Impermanence had fostered appreciation and safe longing from a distance.

“I’m sorry for what happened. I had no idea that the doctor misdiagnosed. I had no intention of misleading you into marriage.” She said.

“Shh…”

He put his fingers across her lips.

“I believe you.” He said.

“I have signed the annulment papers.” She continued.

“I know.” He said.

“There is one problem.” He continued.

“There is?” She asked.

“I don’t want to get annulled. I want to stay married.” He said, holding her hands and looking deep into her eyes.

“I love you.” He continued.

“I believe you love me too.” He said, a little softer, least he should frighten her.

She did not answer but looked at him, into his eyes, then she looked down again.

“You are not who you are.” She said.

“You can have any woman you want. You don’t want an old woman by your side.” She continued.

“Don’t tell me you only wanted me when I was a drug addict and a poor man?” He asked, lightly caressing her hair, and raising her face towards his.

“I don’t mean that. I meant ….why me?” She asked, in a tiny voice.

“Firstly, I am crazy about you. Secondly, I love you. For one and two, I have no reasons why. I just do love you. Thirdly, you saved me from my drug addiction and fourthly, I am also forty years old….in your words, an old age. So we oldies belong together. Fifthly, you bring out the best in me. I can go on and on, you know…” He said.

She smiled a little shyly and upon seeing her smile, he grinned.

“Ah, but you lied to me about who you are. I deserve an apology over that.” She said.

“I am very sorry for not telling you who I really am.” He said, sincerely and deeply.

“When I met you, I was already into drugs and gone into seclusion. It wasn’t on purpose to lie to you. It was to hide from the world. Then we were getting on comfortably and you wanted to marry me and give me your money. Thus, I could not say I didn’t want your money because I was a millionaire.  Furthermore I did badly want to marry you.” He continued.

“Out of pity…” She said.

“Yes, I do not deny in the beginning I pitied you. Yet I always felt like I had a knot in me that was connected to you somehow. Then as time passed, I started to love you. You helped me see a whole new world. You were an angel, and still are my angel.”

Jane was very happy that she felt bliss. She knew he felt the same way. He brought his lips towards hers, and their gentle kiss turned passionate and fiery. Their hands caressed the other with love and compassion; kindness and tenderness. Most of all, they loved each other wantonly and awfully much.

The setting sun illuminated the sky with a vividness not seen in a long time. Blue clouds intermingled with the fiery orange sun splayed across the horizon. The artist had come home to the canvas, just as the lovers had come home to the longing of their hearts. With such life amidst hope and faith amidst trust, he pledged his life to her and she pledged her life to his for as long as they would live.

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Feel free to comment. I'm Dutch, so being blunt is alright with me:)