A Strange Day In July
He threw with all his might, but the third stone came skipping back.
Three Years Earlier.
"Racing against the wind, she ran to her spot to meet the boy she cared for more than anything. Every July, since they were six, they would meet through the woods at a medium sized pond to skip rocks. The amount of rocks they skipped, represented the amount of things they needed to release. Whether it was a bad memory or anger they needed to get out. Still, only at one rock, the girl picked up a second and skipped it. Making it's way down the pond, the boy asked, 'Why two?' "
" 'Just things I needed to get out, lets start at two rocks now.' the girl smiled, motioning for the boy to pick up an extra rock."
"Were they in love?" a young girl asked her grandfather anxiously.
"Now, now, don't go rushing the story," replied the old man grinning. "We wouldn't want to miss any parts, now would we?"
The girl shook her head and placed her eyes on her grandfather once more.
"As the sun began to set," the old man continued, "The two decided it was late enough and headed home their separate ways. The girl was from a rich home, and had beautiful, golden blonde hair just past her shoulders. Her eyes as green as the trees in the summer time. The boy, however, wasn't from a rich home, he had dark brown eyes, and light brown, messy hair that came just below his eyes. The girl's father despised the boy, and forbid her to ever make contact with him again."
"OH NO!" cried the young girl, "WHAT DID SHE DO?!"
The old man laughed a little, then began again. "The young girl went every morning in July to see him. She would allow herself three hours a day with the boy, and soon fell in love. At least she thought she was in love. She felt as if she could tell him anything, and wondered if he felt the same."
"What were their names, grandpa?" the young girl asked curiously.
"Isabella Marie for the girl, and Oliver Mason for the boy." replied the old man.
The little girl climbed into her grandfathers lap gently, and waited patiently for him to begin his fairytale once again. The old man stifled a small laugh at his now very, intrigued granddaughter.
"As the days progressed, the girl grew even more impatient. She wanted to know how the boy felt about her. Some days it seemed as though he was just a friend, and some days she felt extremely close to him."
The old man managed a fake smile for his granddaughter, and went on.
"The girl didn't want to question the boy, she was apprehensive. She was afraid that if she had asked him about what she meant to him, she would loose what she already had with him. The girl waited patiently, eager to find out what his true feelings were. Finally after almost the whole month of July, waiting and longing for an answer, the girl blurted out, 'Do you love me?' "
The young girl stared at her grandfather, wide eyed, fervent for the next sentence. "Grandpa, what did the boy say, did he love her? Are they going to get married? What happened?" a million questions poured from his granddaughters mouth all at once. The old man put a gentle, shushing, index finger to the little girls lips and began to unfold the answers to the questions she had asked.
"The boy stared in astonishment. He didn't believe what he was hearing, he couldn't react, or even say a word. 'I'm not sure if a 12 year old can feel true love, but this is the closest I've been, so yes, Isabella Marie, I do, I do love you.' the boy replied, skipping his second rock. 'I don't see how this is ever going to work.' he continued slowly, playing out what had just happened. 'Your father hates me, your rich, and I'm poor, we're not the right match, I don't see how this can work.' "
" The girl sat down, resting her head in her hands. 'There's always a way, Oliver.' the girl said, knowing she may see him only once a year. 'I mean, we're doing fine now, seeing each other only in July, that's when my fathers the buisiest, and we can continue doing this, it's working fine and-'
'Oh Isabella, don't you see, this can't work.' said Oliver, cutting Isabella off. 'It can't, we can only keep in touch through emails and then see eachother in July.'
'Can't we at least give it a shot, please, my father will never find out, and I don't care if we don't seem like the perfect match, we know we are, and thats all that matters."
"Grandpa, what happens?" The little girl asks, fidegting in her grandfathers lap.
"Well," her grandfather continued. "On the last day of July, the sun shone brighter then ever, like the first new full moon in a while. They talked things over, they made a vow that they would keep in touch through emails, and every July meet in the same place, neither of their parents were to find out about, and not even thier closest friends would be informed. It was their secret spot, their secret to keep. Their relationship was based on trust, and thats a hard thing to do."
"However, through the rest of the year, they kept in touch, emailing eachother everyday, and when July came, the girl showed up, skipping three rocks this time. She had some things going on and just needed to release them, nothing terrible, but the continued through July skipping three rocks now. They had grown closer together and told eachother everything, from how school was to all the important, tiny details about life."
"So is that the end, they fall in love, and never leave eachothers side?!" the girl askes smiling.
"Well," her grandfather went on, "The end of July neared, and they were feeling sad, having to leave each other after a month of being together. The last day of July came, and on that last day, it stormed. It rained, and thundered as if a sign something would go wrong. They didn't think anything of it. They said their good-bye's and continued emailing eachother.
"After a few months or so, just a while after Isabella's fourteenth birthday, she stopped returning Oliver's emails. She retunred the odd one here and there, but never went into full detail of life and how she was feeling. Oliver felt something was wrong and requested they meet at their spot, but Isabella never showed. The rest of the months in their relationship was filled with silence. Oliver rarely heard from her, but couldn't wait until the first of July to see her again. Surely she wouldn't forget. As the month neared he got more and more anxious, waiting was getting unbearable now. Finally on the first, he raced to the spot, but Isabella hadn't shown. On the rock where she always sat, a note taped perfectly in the neatest hand writing read 'Oliver, I know I haven't been writing you back, and this isn;t going to work out bewteen us, I've found a new love now, I'm sorry. Signed Isabella Marie.' Oliver skipped two rocks, and pcked up the third stone, the third stone Isabella had ksipped last July. He threw with all his might, but the third stone came skipping back. The memory he had of her would never go away, it would follow him until he had grandchildren, he tried to skip the third rock again, make the pain and warm, clear tears that stung his eyes go away, but again, the third stone came skipping back, it would never leave."
"Wow." The girl said amazed by her grandfathers story. "Grandpa, he must have been so hurt, what did he do after that?"
"We'll save that for another time, dear, your mothers going to be hear to pick you up any minute now, we won;t to keep her waiting, come on now, and get ready." The old man said faking yet another smile.
Once in the car,pulling out of the dirveway with her mother, the little girl asked "Mommy, I always call Grandpa, Grandpa George, but daddy said it's not his real name, what is it?"
"Your grandpa's real name is Oliver" Her mother replied.
The little girl stared out the car window, watching her grandfather fade in the distance, then she whispered into the air, "The third stone came skipping back, he still loves her, he still loves Isabella Marie!"