One Dime( A Repost)

Gibert and I arrive at the out-of-the-way desert town at nearly one in the somnolent July afternoon.  The first thing that greets our eyes is the rusty chassis of a horse-drawn carriage. It  stands forlornly before a row of tombstone-like old shop buildings. In the distance is a mountain of rocky stature. Totally still and devoid of life, the uninhabited town exudes an air of quiescent melancholy.

We get out of our car and walk towards the carriage.  The gritty sand crunches under the weight of our feet. It is the only sound apart from  the hollow whistling of the wind. I am uneasy in the oppressive silence. I do not know why we come here. Gilbert and I had been on our way to Yellowstone  National Park before he took the sudden decision to turn off the main road into the long-abandoned town. If Gilbert has set his mind on something, there is no stopping him.

                Walking with long strides, Gilbert is a few meters ahead of me. I have to hasten my steps to catch up with him.  Feeling insecure in this desolate place, I want to be as near to him as possible. I reach out my hand to him, hoping that he will grab it but he does not. His eyes are fixated on the carriage which is now only inches before him. Without turning his head in my direction, he crouches down and crawls under the carriage.

“What are you doing?” I ask in bewilderment.

He does not answer me. Like a dog, he starts digging.

“Gil, for heaven’s sake can you please tell me what you are looking for?” I shout, holding my head with both hands.

“Quiet, Brenda.” Gilbert breaks his silence, his hands still digging, “I am looking for something which is important to you.”

“What is it?” I kneel down beside him, curiosity getting the better of me.

“ You will know it later. I buried it when I was ten,” answers he.

“Ten!? We did not know each other that time.” I put my hand to my mouth in disbelief. How did he know that I would be his wife when he was ten? What did he bury in the sand? Was it diamond, gold, or just an ordinary knick-knack? I first met him at the age of nineteen in a prom. He was two years older than me. We tied the knot three days after my twenty-fourth birthday.

Gilbert has dug a rather deep hole by now. His face is sweaty and caked with grime. How silly and childish he looks. I cannot help  shaking my head.  It’s a good thing that we are the only ones in the deserted town.

All of a sudden, Gilbert’s head jerks up and hits the bottom of the carriage with a thud. I gasp and ask if he is all right.

“I am okay, don’t worry,” says he, rubbing his head. “I’ve found it.”

“You’ve found it?”

“Yes. “ He crawls out, holding something in his right hand. I help him to get up.

“My, look at you! There is sand all over you. What an over-aged child you are,” I berate him while brushing the sand off his face and body with my handkerchief.

Grinning widely at me, he opens his right hand and reveals a grime-encrusted matchbox. He puts it near my ear and gives it a good shake.

“Guess what is inside the matchbox,” says Gilbert, his face sly and naughty.

I prick my ears to the sound and says, “sounds like there is a round object inside. Is it a ring?”

“No.”

“Is it a gold nugget?”

“You are wrong agan.” He gives my cheek a light tap, as if I were a little child.

“What is it, then?” I stamp my foot impatiently.

Gilbert chuckles and pushes the box open with his thumb . I peep into the box and all I can see is nothing but an unprepossesing  coin of one dime.

“What has the coin got to do with me?” I blurt out incredulously.

Gilbert glances down at me, his face now a mask of seriousness.

“Brenda, I came to this place with my parents when I was ten. My father did a thing I have never forgotten.”

“What did he do?”

“ He dug a hole under the carriage and took out a matchbox. There was a dime inside and he put it into my mother’s hand.”

“Why did he do that?”

“The dime signified steadfast love. He buried the coin in his teens and promised himself that he would give it to his future wife twenty years after their marriage,” explains Gilbert, looking at me passionately in the eyes.

I draw a long breath and reach out for the coin. He puts it gently into my hand. We have been married for twenty years and today is our anniversary. Our teenage daughters and friends are waiting for us at Yellowstone. Our anniversary party will be held in the national park at night.

“You were touched by what you saw,” I murmur, “and you decided to do the same thing.”

He nods and says, “I put the dime into the box and told my parents that I would dig it out in the twentieth year of my marriage.”

I am so touched that my eyes are brimmed with tears. I look up at him and say, “Gil, what a beautiful gift it is. I will treasure it forever.”

Gilbert opens his arms and hugs me. We kiss each other for a long time in the bright sun.  It is the happiest moment in our life. We resume our journey to Yellowstone at two-thirty and reach there at five. Our anniversary party starts after a couple of hours and it is splendid. We feel so blessed to have so many people celebrate it with us.

The one dime coin has become the heirloom of our family. It bears testament to our steadfast love.