The June wedding

She loved him more than she knew was possible. He occupied most moments in her day. The mere thought of his touch sent a frenzy of chills scurrying under her frock. When Silas North glanced her way, she simply melted.  Adoration wasn't the word but it was close. She stole away each afternoon to watch him practice his craft, fascinated and mesmerized by his abilities. To watch him, left her heart pounding; fear for his safety lost to the adrenaline rush of seeing him succeed. He was invincible.  Of course, she was not supposed to or permitted to become involved with him.  She had been promised to another.  Her marriage was going to benefit her family, giving them, at last, the stability and credibility that her parents had craved for most of their lives.  That was understandable, after all, they were simple carnies; considered by most to be freaks and gypsies. But at last they had settled in this small Missouri town, proceeded to grow a decent tailoring business and exotic sundry store and Leta had done them the favor of capturing the eye of Frederick Dowling, Doc Harvey's son. Things would improve in leaps and bounds after their June wedding.  But this was March, and now, Leta was enamoured by the sleek, strong, dark mystery that surrounded the trapeze artist in the visiting circus. His blond hair hung carelessly around his face; matching the attitude he seemed to carry for each town he visited. But Silas had noticed her of course; the lovely girl who came to all of his practices and most shows.  


Her hair was as dark as midnight, spilling in thick robust curls around pale skin and easily blushing cheeks.  Her eyes were of a rare brilliant green that sparkled like gems when she laughed, which was most often. She was healthy, strong, and talented.  With her parents being of such an ambiguous background; they usually called themselves "nomadic merchants", Leta had learned many things while spending her first fourteen years on the road.  She sang beautifully, could read some and was quite the handy mistress with a needle.  She was outspoken and pleasant; though not bold or impolite.  Leta would be the perfect socialite wife for Frederick who was shy and if permitted, reclusive.  Once Frederick came to call upon Leta's family after he'd seen her at church, her family had fanned the flames to ignite this beneficial romance.  It wasn't that Leta didn't like Frederick. She just couldn't love him more than Silas.


The last week of the circus crept up on them quietly. Silas would miss her delicate face in the crowd. Leta knew she would spend the rest of her nights thinking of him, waiting for the haunting whistle and the grumble of exotic lions and animals that would signal his return and for a short while, her happiness.  It was his last Saturday when he did more than smile and wave to her. He spoke and encouraged her to come again.  Which she did.  He then was brazen enough to take the time to speak with her during one of his rehearsals.  Her knees trembled and the rose in her cheeks bloomed with flourish.  He touched her gloved hand and asked her to wish him luck with his new trick.  His partner Billy would be pulled up and  swing on an opposite trapeze.  The two men would swing toward each other and then Silas would let go. ( LET GO! she marveled)  Billy would catch him.  It was death defying and Leta could barely keep her eyes open to see him. But when Silas showed her the practice harnesses, she sighed a little, clapped then swooned over his bravery.  All seemed to go well until the link twisted loose.  The cable didn't catch enough so when Silas let go of his trapeze, he was not far enough into his swing to reach Billy.  Billy grabbed anyway, their hands stumbled through the air to find each other, grab and save each other.  


Leta screamed as the man of her dreams crumbled to the ground fluffing sawdust with a sickening "whump"  The young girl ran to him, tears brimming like diamonds near her emerald eyes.  She spoke softly to Silas, begging him to listen to her, hold her hand; to keep her heart.  He did not respond. The medical assistants came and took him  to Frederick's father.  Doc Harvey and Frederick would be able to fix him if there was any fixing to be done.  Leta followed and waited.  It was past time for her to be home, but she just couldn't bring herself to walk away.  Instead she begged, pleaded and at last she made a deal with the Almighty.  


"I'll never see him again if you let him live."


Her father came to get her and take her home.  Frederick smiled and told her father what a good nurse she would make.  What a team they would be after June.  The men smiled and ushered Leta home to rest.


For three days, Silas did not move.  Frederick and Doc Harvey were convinced he never would.  Understanding that his fiancee had gotten a little twitterpated with the exotic young stranger in town, Frederick took the time to explain the dour prognosis to Leta,  hoping she would move on, taking more interest in their union.  It backfired.  She moped endlessly, wandering aimlessly through town, sighing and crying softly most of the time. Only when she was under the big top, watching the fill-in artists practice did she even show remote signs of life.  Then she would walk over to Silas' room and tell him what she had seen; how they had practiced.  On that last day, she saw him stir.  His eyes fluttered and he softly grunted in response to her.  Elated, she had called for Frederick and Doc.  They stood and waited while the miracle occurred.  He was coming back to her.  Her emotions overtook her and she touched his face.  She kissed her hand and laid it gently along his mouth. She called him her Love.  She had to go home and tell her parents the wonderful news.  She also wanted to break their hearts by confessing she was going to run away with Silas when he was better.  There would be no June wedding. Her heart would always belong to Silas.  


She dashed down the steps and into the road; along the store fronts until her breath burned in her lungs.  She just kept panting the words, almost preaching them:  "I love him"  In a split moment she decided to take the shortcut so she could get home sooner and be as brave as Silas had.  She had to tell them.  Her mind raced as quickly as her feet thundered under her as she thought of how to tell them the truth.  She heard the whistle of the train and hurried, needing to get across before the lumbering iron giant crossed the bridge.


When Leta's boot got stuck in the track, it didn't register.  She tugged and pulled shouting at the train to slow down.  The more she struggled, the more it wedged in to the gravel and between the splintering wood.  The whistle warned her to get out of the way, not realizing she was unable.  The scream of the brakes drowned out her own and as the heat of the coal, the sparks of the metal and the heaviness of her promise to never see Silas again came crashing down upon Leta, she threw up her hands and sadly accepted her fate.


There would be no June wedding for anyone.






I know it isn't very Christmassy, but it was what I got out of my research; a melancholy tale.  It's been a tough season for us but I'm looking forward to the home stretch to be spent with "framily" , and still missing those that can not be with us. The parties have begun and the stress of chores is giving way to the joy of the season.  Let's take a few moments and enjoy those around us as well as the time we share.


It's going to be hit or miss this weekend but I'll keep an eye out for you.