Later that evening, Beck still had not returned home. It had turned dark about a half hour ago, but he had no intent on calling it a night just yet; rather, he was wandering the woods that stretched along the perimeter of his town. He wasn't at all worried about getting lost-as a rather lonely child, he spent a lot of his time in these forests, and during his later years, he escaped to the trees whenever he disagreed with something his parents told him to do. He knew his way around very well. What did bother him, however, was the thoughts of the wedding rehearsal that still attacked his mind-his eardrums hadn't stopped ringing since the priest had ceased his loud scolding. He could see the disappointed facees of everyone in that small room at the Vega manor, and every time he thought of them, he felt the shame all over again. And no matter how hard he tried, he could not push the memory away.
Beck had decided that he was going to stay out here until he memorized his vows, or at least until the shame washed away. So, he figured he'd be out here for quite a while. Anyways, it wasn't really like he wanted to go back home-he was sure his parents were still angry at him. He had done some pretty dumb things before, but this was by far the worst transgression he could have committed.
He now was leaned over the stone railing of a bridge stretched over a calm, black river. He watched the round, full white moon reflected on its glasssy surface, rippled slightly at the edges as a bitter, gentle breeze passed overhead. He heaved a sigh and buried his face in his hands. He just wanted to feel better. But what were you supposed to do to make yourself feel better in a depressing, gray town like this one? Perhaps playing piano would ease his mind, but for one, it wasn't like a piano just grew randomly out of the ground when he needed it to. Even so, he didn't really feel like playing now to begin with.
The image of Victoria's heart-shaped face flashed in his mind, smiling gently at him, and that just made him feel worse. God only knew what he thought of her now-she probably was rolling over in her bed in anguish at the thought that she was to be married to such a clumsy fool. He let out another heavy breath, furrowing his brow and closing his eys at the sky. She was really so beautiful, and so sweet and kind. He truly did not deserve her. He knew that marriage was a bad idea. It just caused a lot of unnecessary pain. He was perfectly fine with his life before Victoria.
Of course, now that he actually knew what his wife-to-be was like, he didn't want to imagine life without her. It was a vicious cycle. Beck curled his long, slender fingers into tight fists and stalked off of the stone bridge, venturing deeper into the woods.
What was so difficult about memorizing a few simple words, especially after an angry priest pressed them into his head over and over? He reached into his jacket pocket and studied the ring once more. It was a simple circle of gold, nothing too special. Why did people make such a big deal out of it? He shook his head and put it back.
"With this hand..." he muttered underneath his breath, but once again, he find himself at a loss for words. What came next? With one liquid movement, he slammed his fist into a tree, ignoring the searing pain the flooded through his arm when he was through. "It's not that hard, Beck," he barked into the night air. He massaged his aching hand and progressed on through the trees. In the moonlight, they looked like people with skinny, crooked arms reaching up into the sky. Just to humor himself, Beck positioned himself next to one of them and limply raised his arms. Trees had it so easy. No one expected much out of them. But then again, they were targets for firewood, and because they were rooted into one place for their whole lives, which was a problem within itself, they had no means of protest whenever someone came after them with a big, sharp axe. Beck lowered his arms and continued on. Maybe it was a good thing that he wasn't born a tree.
Beck spent a while longer-he wasn't too sure how long-weaving slowly around trees and reciting the vow to himself; more accurately, he was practicing his tone of voice, considering he only was able to get up to "With this ring." He put on silly accents sometimes, and wondered for a brief moment if this was even doing him any good. It probably was not, but it made him feel like he was doing something important, something that made all this time he was spending out here worthwhile.
Beck decided to take a different approach, starting with another line instead of the ring. "With this candle," he began, but once again, he couldn't find the words that came after. He glowered at his feet, stopping next to a particularly jagged tree. "I will set your mother on fire," he muttered bitterly, plopping down on a stray log. He rested his chin in his hand. Why, of all families, did the Vegas have to choose the Olivers to share lives with? It wasn't like there weren't any other rich families in the town to restore their bank accounts. And it was painfully obvious that Beck was just not cut out for the married life.
So, why were they doing this to him?
Beck produced the ring from his pocket once more and stared down at it. He wasn't going to make any progress if he wasn't willing to try, and it was clear that there was no way of getting out of this marriage business. He forced himself onto his feet and stared squarely at nothing in particular, imagining the priest standing right in front of him. He made his eyes strong and steely, as if to say, Ha, look what I can do.
"With this hand," Beck announced with a newfound strength, "I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine." He mischievously searched around before turning to the jagged tree as though it were a real person. "Mrs. Vega," he purred, "might I say that you look just beautiful this evening?" He hurried over to a thicker tree a few feet away and wrapped his arm around it. "Care to repeat that, Mr. Vega?" he continued, leaning his ear close to the tree's bark. "You want me to call you 'Dad'? Well, I suppose I must obey."
Beck snapped a branch off of the Mr. Vega tree and lowered it to a small thorn sticking out of the tree's side. "With this candle," he recited, "I will light your way in darkness."
Finally, he held up the ring once more. "With this ring," he proclaimed at the top of his lungs, "I ask you..." His eyes scanned the forest floor before settling on a branch protruding from the ground that oddly resembled a hand offering its fingers.
"...to be mine," he finished proudly. He stood back and admired the glint of the ring on the hand-branch. It really did look splendid; though plain, it was breathtaking, not much unlike Victoria herself. Yes, he believed that he was truly ready.
Suddenly, the gentle breeze become stronger and stronger. Within a few short seconds, Beck could hear nothing but, and was chilled to the bone. His jacket was not enough to protect him from the cold. The hand-branch snapped back and curled around his wrist. He could feel an unidentifiable pressure building up at the back of his throat-whether it was a scream, a gasp, or vomit, he couldn't tell, but whatever it was, it refused to come out. The hand pulled him into the ground, and his face slammed hard against a tree root. No matter how hard he tried to wrench away, the hand would not let go.
Finally, he broke free, stumbling backwards quite a few feet. The branch was still locked tightly to his wrist, but at closer inspection it was not a branch at all. It was more like a skeletal arm from the elbow down. Beck held it out in front of him as far away as he could get it. He opened his mouth, trying to get the scream to erupt from his lungs, but the more he tried, the drier his throat seemed. A raggedy hiss came from him instead, and he shook his hand around, hoping that the skeleton would release. But it was as if someone had sewn the damn thing onto him.
Before he could do anything more about the hand, he saw the ground beginning to shake where he had originally found the hand. It pulsed, as if it was breathing, until it cracked open. Another hand emerged as something-or someone-gained leverage on the ground in order to pull itself out of where it had been resting. Beck couldn't do anything but tremble and watch in horror.
In front of him stood a girl with a dirty veil flung over her scarlet hair. She wore a tattered, lacy dress that spilled over the ground all around her. In one patch of her bodice, there was a hole that led straight down to her ribcage.
Slowly, the girl removed the veil from her face. Her eyelids sprung open to reveal wide, brown eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. She stared at Beck for a while as the breeze slowed down. She parted her lips with a bit of a struggle, as if she hadn't spoken in forever. Beck could barely hear what she was saying over his racing heartbeat.
"I do."
