31 comments/ 60106 views/ 22 favorites Ashes of Love By: PTBzzzz You made the debt and I'll pay the price. An old country tune written by: Jack Anglin, Jim Anglin and Johnnie Wright. I added the question mark on the subtitle. This one has taken me a while to get the way I want it. I wrote it about 4 months ago but was not satisfied with it, Oscar was a heel in that version (not what I wanted), I lost that one to a computer malfunction and decided to begin from the beginning. The ending of the story as I originally wrote it this time disappeared into cyber space; never to be seen again. Over a three week period of time I finally finished it and set about editing it. I think the results are worth the effort. I hope you enjoy it. Those who have read my stories know my style; I believe loving wives are loving wives. I find cheating distasteful and never write detailed sex acts. If this is not what you are looking for you have been warned. The writing and editing are all mine as usual. 1967 The night was wet. Not much of a beginning to a story: is it? But wait. It was deep into autumn, the night was wet but it was not raining. Rather the fog was so dense that it condensed and dripped off the leaves. That fog had settled at about 12 feet off the ground. In a wooded area with recently fallen leaves all over the ground, this spelled trouble for anyone brave enough to try driving at anything greater than a crawl. It was less than 30 minutes before midnight. There were no stars or moon out that evening. I was taking my usual shortcut along the edge of the forest that surrounded the lake. I worked the 3 to 11 shift down at the saw mill on the other side. Another mile and a half and I would be home. I was ready to call it a night. I began to pull out from the side road when I stopped and rolled down the window further. The sound was almost inaudible. I stayed still and listened again, this time with the radio off. In the distance I barely heard it again. An engine was wound all the way out, tires were again screaming as if they were in immense pain. If there was a muffler on the car it had to be hollowed out. The sounds came closer and closer. The forest was to my left; there was a long stretch of clear farm fields to the right. I saw the headlights a way off; they were bobbing and weaving manically as the road dipped and leaned to both sides. Sometimes the lights disappeared, other times they shot high into the sky or into the fields to the left or right. The car was doing well to hold onto that road at such a speed. With absolutely no intent of slowing down the car went past me in a heartbeat and was gone. As the car moved down the road the motor never change its intensity. My mind clearly saw the car as it went past. The midnight blue color was firmly etched into my mind. All you saw coming and going in the darkness were the lights; bright white in the front and crimson in the rear. Everyone in town knew that car. Soon after the car had gone by the engine noise suddenly died. I heard a loud THUMP, followed by the sound of metal and glass being destroyed. Then there was silence. I slowly drove into the forest watching the sides of the road for the scene of the crash. I rounded a long, slow curve and found dead deer on the outside of the curve. A short distance off I saw tail lights shining up into the fog from below the road. As I got out of my truck I could hear her screaming at the top of her lungs "Two fucking deer, two fucking deer!" The sound of her voice was equal parts disbelief, anger and resignation that the accident happened. I looked over the edge and saw the lights on inside the car. The door was opened. I could not see her in the darkness. I knew where she was because she kept hollering "Two fucking deer, two fucking deer!" "Are you OK?" "Two fucking deer, two fucking deer!" she screamed again. Soon I heard, "I've been better! ...guess I'll never drive my Mustang again." as she scrambled up the bank to the side of the road. It took her a few moments to catch her breath. Her name was Melissa Jean Rafferty. Everyone called her Missy. Grandpa runs the saw mill; her mother is second in command. Between logging, growing trees and working the mill 9 out of 10 people in town owed their jobs to him. He is a humble man who treats everybody well. Daddy, let's just say he is king of the hill. He is the preacher at the Shrine on the town square. That thing is more than a church; mega-church is more like it. The church runs the town and Daddy runs the church. It took me a while to calm her down. When you stop to think, it was not at all a disagreeable task to hold her until the shaking stopped. The next words she said were "My Daddy is gonna kill me for wreckin' my car." After a short pause "I need to get away from here." I wanted to stay with her as long as I could, so I suggested we make tracks to the Quick Mart for some coffee. As we drove I found out she had just broken up with her boyfriend before the crash. "The things he wanted me to do were disgusting. I am not that kind of girl; I want to be a virgin on my wedding day. He told me because we were engaged we needed to do them now. We need to find out if we are compatible, he said. This afternoon I saw him going into the Cozy Rest Motel with the town bike, Sarah Miller. He can just go and be compatible with her." She sat and sobbed for a few minutes and spoke again. "We have to report my car stolen. He knew where the keys were; maybe they will pin it on one of his slime ball friends." I sat there with my mouth hanging open. She pushed it shut and told me to make the next left. Two blocks from Broad Street I pulled over as instructed and she got out. "You turn left here and drive 5 blocks down, turn toward Broad and drive back in this direction. I'll take care of the rest. All you need to do is report you picked me up in front of the bank." I did as I was told; as I approached the bank she began to wave her arms franticly. I pulled over and she leaned into the truck and we talked for a minute. She spent most of that time thanking me for going along with her scheme. Then she climbed into the truck and we went for coffee. Many sets of eyes were on us as we pulled into the lot. You could see the same thought on each of the faces. What is she doing with him, he is dirt poor." I might have been poor in their eyes but I was due to graduate college the next week with a degree in Management. I figured it would be my ticket out of this one horse town. Deputy Bunky came over quickly to rescue her from my clutches. She immediately told him to leave me alone and reported her car as stolen. A waitress came over to the truck and asked if we wanted to order something, because they were ready to close. I ordered and paid for 2 coffee and 3 doughnuts. Just as the order arrived so did the Police Chief, her Mom and Dad and 3 other deputies. It looked like the entire world was clustered together on her side of my truck listening to her story about breaking up with her boyfriend. She continued the story about seeing her car was being driven off as she came out of the house. She had to walk out to Broad Street where she found me. I felt a light tap on my left shoulder "I thought that was you Oscar." the voice said. I turned to see her mother. Everyone at the mill just called her Betsy. At the same time I saw Bunky lumbering up along the side of my truck. He was a little hard to miss at 6 foot 7 and 375 pounds. Before he could speak I hollered out to him "Hey, Bunky, Need a doughnut!" The look told me I was now dead. I still held it out to him as he walked away. "May I?" Betsy said. I smiled and handed it over. "Do you want some coffee?" "Please." She replied. I poured half into my thermos cup and handed the rest in the cup to her. "Thanks, for taking care of my Baby...and the snack." The investigation was soon over and Missy leaned over to kiss my cheek, "Thanks for everything." she said. No one had asked me anything. I drove home the other way around the lake. As you just read, I'm Oscar. My name is Charles Oscar Jones II. I was named after my grandfather, I never met him. I have heard that he was some sort of genius or hero or something. He died the month before I was born. My home, here on the lake, was his place. My Mom and Dad were artists; they moved here when I was two. Between fishing and their garden and the money they made from their paintings, knitting and ceramics they had managed to make Grandpa's small amount of insurance money last for over twenty years. I went to college during the day and worked nights at the mill. During my sophomore year Mom and Dad were killed on the highway in a snowstorm. A tanker loaded with gasoline lost control, crossed the centerline and exploded on impact with their car. Between the impact and explosion they never felt a thing. They were later cremated, placed in a single lead container and dropped in their beloved lake; always to be together. I am not as destitute as many think. My only real costs are taxes, my tuition and gas to get to and from the places I need to be. In the last four years I have managed to save $24,000. That is my escape money, for when I leave this town. Just so you know I have no intention of selling my place, ever. The next morning as I was fishing I heard a vehicle driving down my road. I couldn't see who was driving but the year of the truck and logo on the door identified it as one of the older trucks from the mill. I was not on the clock and they had no authority over me at my own home so I relaxed and continued fishing. I got lost almost as soon as I turned back to the task at hand; a fish hit my line hard and tried to get away. By the time I had reeled it in I had forgotten about my visitor. I turned to put the fish in the bucket I used for that purpose and saw a set of legs slightly off to the left. I followed them up and found Missy standing there with a paper sack and a couple cups of coffee. As she handed me a coffee and doughnut she spoke "I came to thank you for last night. I know it was kinda wrong to report the car as stolen; we don't keep insurance on our cars to replace them in the event of an accident. Eventually I will get another, for now I can drive the old truck. Dad believes that having that insurance is praying for an accident; and Mom can afford to replace it at any time she wants. When they find it you may have it, if you want to fix it up." I was a little incensed at her comments; I guess it was how she was raised. I took the fish back to my cabin and prepared it for lunch along with some of this year's potato crop. We talked for hours, until it was almost time for me to head to work. "I don't mean to be rude, but I need to clean up to go to work. Tell me, why did you keep yelling 2 Fucking Deer?" She blushed and shyly spoke, "There were two of them and that was what they were doing; right in the middle of the road." I got a kiss on the cheek, a big smile and hug as she thanked me again for being there last night. The old truck was gone before I left for work. The ride in was more pleasant than any before as I thought about our time together over the last hours. After reporting to work I was called to the office. I was ushered into Grandpa's private office. Everybody just called him "The Old Man"; his given name was Chester Smith. He liked our name a lot more than Chester. My first thought was "With all his money he can afford better than this." The office was straight out of the 20's or 30's. I bet he started with that furniture. He gestured for me to sit, I waited for Betsy to sit and then did so myself. He began, "Your grandfather, Charles, was my best friend. He saved my life in the Great War. (WW1) You're a tribute to his name. We've been watching you since you started here. Your work is good; the quality and quantity is among the best here. I have spoken to your professors and they all give you top marks. Your foreman, Old Mike, is retiring next month; he chose you to be his replacement. We agree." Betsy spoke up "Your actions last evening just confirmed what we always thought about you. We would be honored to promote you. By the way, this meeting was going to happen even before last evening." I left the meeting a short time later. Mike was waiting by the door, we shook hands and he began to teach me his way of being a good foreman. The company Christmas party was a few weeks later in early December; the only acceptable reason to skip it was if you or a family member died. I had been there for almost a minute when I felt a presence behind me; it was Missy. We were together for the rest of the evening. I found out that the car was found three days after the crash. A road crew was sent to check out a report of a dead deer. While out of their truck they saw the Mustang. The police were through with it. I could still have it; if I wanted it. I told her "Have it towed to my barn and I will look it over and decide if I want to fix it." One thing was certain; the loud exhaust had to go. After the party we went to the Quick Mart for coffee and more talk. I almost choked on my coffee when she asked me "Would like to date me? I asked Mom if it would be OK." Did that explain why Betsy was watching me a lot closer, and smiling? I thought it might have something to do with the promotion. I didn't want to embarrass myself so I took her hand and smiled. I'm not sure what my mouth might have done if I tried to speak. We dated for the next 15 months before I proposed. I took her to see the completed repairs and modifications to the mustang. I helped her into the passenger seat to take a ride. After securing the seatbelt and closing the door I got in the other side. I turned and her held her hand and spoke "We met because of this car; I can't think a better place to ask you to be my wife. Will you marry me?" She had been admiring the repairs to the car and looked up in shock. I nodded my head to indicate that I wanted her to look at the ring in my other hand. Her mouth popped open and her eyes were bugged out. "Will you marry me?" I repeated. I guess the huge hug was an affirmative answer. I placed the ring on her finger and then slowly backed out of the barn. The ride to her parents was smooth and quiet. They knew we were going to bring the Mustang over when we had supper with them. We surprised them when we walked in. Betsy asked "Where is the car, didn't you bring it?" We escorted them to see it. I started the car you could barely hear it running. They approved. I had spoken to Harold, Missy's dad, the week before about my intentions. He gave his blessings. We sat down to dinner. As the dishes were passed I saw the flashes from the ring, soon Betsy noticed them too. She simply said "OH!" and motioned Missy to slide over to her. "Did you know about this Harold?" His answer was a smirk. She poked him in the side with as much force as she could muster. "You will pay for this mister!" The smirk got bigger. There was soon a crying contest on that side of the table. Betsy whispered "Are you sure this is the one you want?" The furious nodding of Missy's head said it better than words ever could. After desert was served the ladies disappeared for the rest of the evening, when they came back the wedding and the rest of my life were planned. We were married 5 months later. As we returned to my cabin Missy told me "Mom and Dad spent their wedding night here too!" I had replaced the twin bed I slept in with a queen, I wanted a king but the room was too small. The bed was delivered and set up that morning. A short time later the most beautiful sight in the world walked out of the bathroom and joined me on the bed. She was as naked as the day she was born and rightfully proud. The first time took forever, at least it seemed to. It was messy and painful for her. We changed the sheets, cleaned ourselves and proceeded to have three encores. We finally fell asleep at 3. She woke me at 6 and we had another round before falling asleep. I woke at 10 to find her closely watching me. "Take a picture and it will last longer." I mumbled. "I am memorizing it, no pictures to fall into the wrong hands that way." She giggled. We showered together for the first time, dressed and headed out on the road to continue our honeymoon and the rest of our lives. Missy was insatiable; I did my best to keep up. Three months later I came home to find her crying. She refused to tell me, "Later..." was all she said. In bed that evening she rolled over and whispered in my ear, "We are pregnant!" "WOW! Wow! This is the coolest thing ever!" My mind was running at an incredible speed. That night we just held each other until we fell asleep. 7 ½ months into the pregnancy complications began. They had to take the baby a month early. She survived another week. Despite the efforts of the best doctors we could find, our darling baby slowly slipped away. Missy was not the same after that. Her perpetual smile was gone. We both mourned for the loss. After the doctor cleared her we resumed making love. We were back like always, she could never get enough, and I was hanging on for dear life on the wildest ride ever. Soon there were little arguments, then they became bigger and bigger. Life became a roller coaster ride; one minute we were fighting like wild animals and the next we were screwing like minks. When we finished making love and expressing our love for each other we fought again. The cycle was never ending. She went to see doctors; none of them could find physical manifestations of a problem. Finally after a particularly nasty fight I told her I couldn't live like this; we had to find out what was wrong. The next day I returned from work to find she had moved back to stay with her parents. They were aware of our problems. For a week all she did was cry and sob about how much she missed me; then as quickly as she was gone she returned. Things were better for a few weeks, and then we slowly started to slide back downhill. Six months later I warned her that it all had to stop. It didn't. Now she never got up with me in the morning; she just lay there and sobbed or ranted until I was gone. If I tried to talk with her she turned away and ignored me, if I avoided her that was wrong too. When we were together she would begin a fight over nothing. It all came to a head one evening in June. The next day I left the house; there were divorce papers, a power of attorney to transfer everything I left behind to her name and my wedding ring on the table beside my side of the bed. I left town vowing to never return. 1971 Two weeks later I was in Marine Corp boot camp. Three months after all phases of my training were completed I was in Vietnam. The next week we were taking a lovely stroll through the jungle when the world disintegrated around me. Bullets were coming from everywhere. When it was over all but one of the thirty three who attacked us was dead. He was now a badly injured POW. We had 3 dead and almost everyone was wounded; they said I was the worst. The next week, when I was mostly conscious, I was visited by the battalion commander and a lot of other people. I was awarded the Silver Star and some other jewelry for my uniform and sent to Bethesda to begin repairs. Six months later I was re-assigned to a unit. I was soon headed to that great party in Pacific again. Now I was a sergeant, I was responsible for the men under me. The month before we were due to rotate out someone on the other side decided it might be fun to overrun our outpost. When it was all over we had 3 wounded, including me again. I was in much better condition than my last time; guess I learned to keep my head down a little. Ashes of Love In the hospital this time I was given more jewelry for my uniform, field promoted to Lieutenant and got my ass ripped big time; followed by a handshake. The General told me that according to the reports I took it real personally that the first man wounded was the machine gunner next to me. I took over the weapon and wiped out half of the attacking force causing a complete rout of the other side. For some reason they kept me out of battle for a long time. But Vietnam was winding down and we had time to relax a bit. Much later I was thinking of getting out because life was so boring. I had just enough time in to retire on a pension. All the excitement to be found involved the consumption of liquor. I tired of that after I got a couple of tattoos. The first was a heart with my initials and Missy's with our wedding date on my left arm; the arm closest to the heart of course. After the second I swore off drinking for good. I will never be able to guess why I had a bumble bee tattooed on the head of my dick. I limited my drinking to non alcoholic stuff from then on. Just about the time I was deciding to get out, another party was slowly winding up in the Middle East. I was sent to participate in the Shock and Awe campaign. Wouldn't you know that I would have to run into another asshole looking to spoil my day? We were in a caravan of trucks when this fellow decided our truck needed one less tire. The truck rolled about 3 times and threw my gunny sergeant and me off to different sides. Most of the men still with the truck were flat on their backs and trapped under it. Gunny and I began to fire at the other fellows as they began to pop up and attack. "Holly's Snack Bar my ass; you will never get my men." Soon the noise died down, many of them were dead. Those that didn't die attacking us were sneaking off. The Cobras and AC130's were picking them off as they ran. Most of my guys were injured in the rolling of the truck but they would live to tell their families about it. I tried to stand up and realized something was seriously wrong; my left foot was about three feet off to my right. I had also been shot multiple times in my legs and shoulders. Weeks later I woke long enough to see the angel on my right hand side and was back out again. She was dressed in light pink. The rising sun coming in the window behind her lit her blond hair, making it look like she wore a halo. Nothing else was visible to me at that point. The next time I woke she was talking softly with Gunny; I guess he didn't make it either. That's a shame! He has a beautiful wife and 3 young children, all of whom adore him. He was due to retire in four months. My throat was parched but I did my best to growl at him "So how did a pair of old reprobates like us get into heaven?" He turned to look at me; she slid down to the floor. The room suddenly filled with people. Some were looking at me or were looking at and adjusting the various machines in the room. Others were writing down notes. I winked at a pretty one and went back to sleep. I have no idea how many times I woke up after that to find the angel was not there. I became more and more convinced that I had been sent to the wrong place and when they found out, the situation was corrected. Then I awoke and she was there again. Everything near me was white as the new fallen snow; my angel was in light blue this time. This time she was in a corner talking with Gunny and a younger rendition of me. I suspected I was watching them and myself having a discussion of some sort; maybe an out of body experience. It was time to go to sleep again. As I dreamed this time I was making love to my angel. I had promised myself a long time ago that I would never have sex again. After having the best, why try anything else? As I dreamed I became more and more angry. The scene shifted and I was back into the battle, the truck was rolling and stopped upside down. I heard the shouts of "Holly's Snack Bar" over and over again. I screamed out "...you can't have my men today either!" I was killing them as quickly as I saw them. I heard the buzz as bullets rushed by me and felt every one that hit me. The noise and the smell of blood and fired bullets were overwhelming. I felt a soft, warm hand slowly begin to rub my head. A voice softly said "Be quiet now, it is all over. We will soon go home where you belong." The words softly echoed in my brain as I looked up to see my angel, and went back to sleep. The next time I remember I was dreaming about my angel, we were fishing in the lake back home. In my dream world I realized that my angel was named Missy. I have no idea why I knew that. I woke again a voice was calling out, it sounded like "mister, mystery, or misty". The angel rubbed my arm softly to calm me again. I heard the voice again; it was me calling out to Missy. The drugs had me really confused. My mind wanted to know who or what was this Missy I was calling out to. It was time for another nap. I began to notice, if I wake calmly I am allowed to remain awake longer. If I'm loud or combative I fall asleep again very fast. The longer I was awake the more things made sense to me. ...just so tired, and tired of sleeping! I loved to feel the angel rubbing me softly. Soon I realized she was singing or humming many of the times I woke. I remember one time I woke to find her rubbing my dick, watching the way the bumble bee moved as she stroked. I softly spoke, "Sorry Madam that is spoken for." She smiled and slowly moved her hand away. As my strength improved I was able to stay awake for longer times. I soon graduated to having broth and then soft foods at meals. Somewhere or somehow I finally realized who she was. We began talking again; it was slow at first because I did not comprehend well. My mind was returning at a faster and faster pace. I began to push myself during physical therapy. I was always being admonished for pushing too hard. "If you damage anything because you are trying too hard we will need to begin again and work back toward where we are now" I responded "I'm a man! I'm a Marine! I will walk out of here soon! I might just run!" One day the conversation took a different turn and we discussed the elephant in the corner of the room. She began "I was the golden child who always had my way. My, Our, baby was not supposed to die. When you first walked out I was too angry to listen to anyone. They told me I had driven you away. Seven months later a new man came into my life, I could never drive him away; we needed each other too much. Soon all the anger I had melted away. If I may, I would like to introduce you to that man." The man I saw talking to her when I woke that one time walked around the end of the bed; "Charles Oscar Jones III reporting for duty Sir; how may I assist you?" I felt my mouth move but no words came out. She just reached over and gently pushed my mouth shut. "We have always called him Three. He is a corpsman assigned to the surgical team who did most of the work on you. One night you were on his list of patients; you were due to be shipped out the next day to Germany. As he was washing you he saw the tattoo on your arm and immediately recognized the date and initials. After checking your chart he knew you had to be his father. He reported his suspicions to his commanding officer, who contacted the Red Cross. At the lake the next day I was visited by two officers asking all sorts of questions. In the end I was able to verify that we were still married and they brought me to you." I lay there trying to make sense of all she had said but soon fell into a fitful sleep. In my confused state I ended back in battle, Missy was there beside me. We were arguing as the bullets flew by us. There was a loud explosion nearby, when the dust settled she was gone. I woke crying out for her, I tried to get out of the bed and was throwing off the staff as they tried to hold me down. Happy juice was administered and I slipped back into the dream world. I had no idea how long I was out that time. I woke to the sensations of a sponge bath. Missy was bathing me. As each wound was washed she ran her fingers over them and softly cried. She could tell the fresh ones. Though they were completely healed, they were still a different color. She kissed and caressed the ones she could reach. I felt her tears as they landed warm and wet on my skin. I heard her softly whispering to herself, chastising herself for driving me off. She rejoiced at having found me again and promised herself that we would always be together. A slight moan from me caused her to jump, knocking over the table with the bath pan on it. I acted as if I were still out and listened to hear further comments. When all was completed she kissed me lightly on the lips and told me she always loved me; shortly after the medication hit me and I was out again. The next time I woke my son was there alone. One look and I knew he had to be mine. Our faces were identical and the flaming red hair was the real clue. We talked about growing up on the lake and how it was without a father. "I always knew I had a father, everyone told stories of how strong you were, how smart you were and how you could do anything you set your mind to. The Old Man would bounce me on his knee and tell me stories about you for hours on end. Just before he died he made me promise to tell you how much he loved you and told me I was to grow up strong and fair to others just like you." "How was I strong and fair? I ran out on your mother." "That was what it took to make her realize how badly she had been treating you. Mom always told me stories about you too. You were her hero you know!" "How is it that you ended up in the navy and on a ship as part of a surgical team?" "The week before I graduated high school, I had a dream in which a gypsy told me that is how I would find you. I went down to signup that afternoon; I got the correct MOS (Military Occupational Specialty) I have been with the same unit since then. The same woman had visited me on other occasions. She was always correct. Mom always said she was sure you still loved her and would come back to her, it was like she had a vision or something." We talked about his time in the service and mine too until I was too tired and drifted off to sleep again. The last thing he told me that day was "They tried to save your foot. It was too badly damaged and they could not stop the infections. It was all in the records." When I woke the next time Missy was there. We talked about what Three had to say to me. After I told her about his dream she told me about the gypsy. "I was in Portland Oregon following up on a lead about your whereabouts when I was approached by an old woman who told me she knew who I was looking for; she gave me your name. You had been there a month before but had since moved on. She told me you were well and one day would return to me alive before our twenty third wedding anniversary. A flash caught my attention, when I turned back she was gone. I heard her voice in the direction the flash came from telling me to trust her. I did, and stopped looking for you as often. From time to time she would appear to me, smile and be gone. The sightings were at many different locations, but she never repeated one." From her descriptions I thought I might know who the woman might be. I kept quiet. Missy continued, "Then one day she appeared to me as I was removing the mail from the box up on the road. First she reassured me you would live; but were badly hurt. I was to have visitors within the next day that could give me more details and would take me to you. The next morning I was visited by two Marine officers. They asked me if I was the wife of Major Charles Oscar Jones II. I told them that is my husband's name, but I knew nothing about being a Major. I was informed that you were in transit to Dover Air Force Base and would end up at Bethesda to recover." That was how she found me again. Gunny was assigned to fly with me as an escort; he had been injured too; but not as badly as I. The unit was due to return any day from assignment. I was now able to move around slowly on crutches. My prosthetic leg had been ordered and would arrive eventually. In therapy I was being prepared for the day it arrived. Missy and I began to travel all over the hospital. As we walked we talked about how she raised our son alone. Before I had the chance to apologize for running out she told me I lasted a lot longer than she ever could have. She completely understood why I left. She told me even as badly as it hurt her, I left her the best way possible. All the paperwork was in order; she just refused to sign it. She told me "I had the best husband ever; I was selfish and drove you away for no reason at all. I have only been with one man in my life. After having the perfect husband I never wanted anyone else." A plan was forming in the back of my mind. It was late June; our twenty second anniversary would be near the end of August. That evening I stayed up until almost four in the morning. When the plan was completed I began to ask everyone for favors. No one denied me anything. Everyone was sworn to secrecy. I had to call Betsy for help from her end, back in our town. She was delighted to hear my voice. The day before our anniversary I asked her to wear the first dress I saw her in here at the hospital; the light pink one if you remember. I told her I had planned a special dinner for her the next evening. She pressed me for more details; I told her that was all the information she needed at this time. "I only wore that dress a few times before you became conscious. When did you see it?" I told her about the time I woke and saw my angel in front of the window. "That picture is emblazed into my mind. It gave me the courage and inspiration to fight on." The next afternoon when she arrived I was not in my room. She was met by the Chaplain. Her hand shot up to cover her mouth and tears began to fall. He smiled and shook his head "NO! He is fine! He has been detained in another part of the hospital; I am to take you to him." He held out his hand and escorted her to a room where she was told to wait for me. The room was not brightly lit; in fact the far end was almost dark. She sat there for a few minutes and began to get fidgety. I slowly and quietly began to walk toward her while her head was turned toward the door. She turned in my direction to see me in my best dress uniform. The shoes shone like glass, all the metal was polished to a high shine, and all my ribbons were there on display for her to see for the very first time. I softly spoke "My Dear our dinner awaits." She rose and I escorted her to a room across the passageway. The lighting was a little brighter in the new room and our dinner was placed on an intimate table barely big enough for two. We softly chatted as we ate, the food was magnificent; she was even more so. After we were finished I reached across the table and took her hand "Happy Anniversary My Dear, I have one more detail to attend to yet tonight. My other hand brought up a pair of tiny boxes. I handed the small flat one to her. She opened it and found my dog tags inside; she pulled them out and stared at them. "I belong only to you now; if you still want me?" I saw tears slowly begin to appear in the corners of her eyes as I took the tags from her and placed the chain around her neck. "Do you still want me?" "More than ever." was the reply. "In that case I ask you to accompany me in a restatement of our wedding vows. Will you do that with me tonight? All is ready if you say Yes." "I have nothing to..." I cut her off "Yes, you do. Please say yes!" "Ye... Yes." She stuttered. I stood and escorted her across the passageway again; "Please trust me." was all I said as I opened the door and assisted her through. As the door closed I heard a shrill "MOM...." I turned to see the Chaplain waiting there. "All will be ready as soon as she changes." I told him. Gunny was seated at the front of the room softly playing a guitar duet with his wife, "Wow, who snuck that into the program!" As they finished he looked over at me and smirked. There was a soft click as a door shut in the back of the room, soon Betsy and Harold slowly walked up the aisle to take their seats. Gunny began to play again; Missy slowly came down the aisle on the arm of our son. At the front he stood off to the side as her attendant. Gunny stood beside me in his best dress uniform. I took Missy's hand and the service began. The Chaplain began "Ladies and Gentlemen we are here this evening to assist LT Col Charles Oscar Jones II and his lovely wife Melissa Rafferty Jones in the restatement of their vows. Today is the twenty second anniversary of their original vows. I was still staring at him as he droned on. "Excuse me... I am only a Major." The Admiral in charge of the hospital rose from the third row and came forward, "Not any more," he stated and he personally changed the insignia on my uniform. I saluted as he stepped back. He held out his hand to shake mine, ignoring the salute. "It is a pleasure to finally meet The Flaming Irishman. You have made a name for yourself." I blushed after he said that. Missy gave me a puzzled look. The service ended in no time. We had our first real kiss in over twenty years. She whispered "I can't wait to get stung by your bee." As we began to walk back down the aisle the lights went up. Missy stopped dead in her tracks when she saw over two hundred people there to witness the service. The only previous lights in the room had been the candles at the altar. We thoroughly enjoyed the reception; at the end we were both placed in decorated wheelchairs and returned to my, excuse me, OUR room. They had placed two beds together and tied them together near the floor. There was really no place private enough to do our own celebration that evening. We slept the sleep of the blessed that night. I was able to hold on to her all night, it felt marvelous. Shortly before Thanksgiving I was allowed to go home to the lake. The first thing we did was to make love. Being a bit older and still short on stamina we only had two rounds before falling asleep. When we awoke in the morning we continued where we left off. Four months later we found out we were a few months pregnant again. Both of us were in our early forties, the doctor said we would just need to be monitored a little more closely. The day before our twenty third anniversary we had our daughter. She was right on time and perfect. Having another was too risky to chance. I was neutered. The week before little Betsy Marie was born Missy saw the old gypsy lady at the mailbox. They smiled and the lady disappeared never to visit her again. While in the Corps I hardly ever spent much of my pay, I had been retired on full medical disability after the loss of my foot. I went back to work at the mill, this time in the office. I was assigned The Old Man's office. No one had been in there since his death; except to clean it every now and again. While going through some old files I found a bill for one dollar payable to my grandfather Charles. The invoice was for building office furniture, the very same things that I was looking at now. It still looks in good shape; I guess I'll keep it. I spent some of my money to build a medium size addition to the old house. As the workers were emptying the attic they brought down some old books of photos. We went through them Betsy Marie saw a picture and pointed to it "Eve." was all she said. It was her first word. As I looked on the back to find the name Missy gasped "It is the old gypsy lady and a man. The names on the back were Charles O and Eve L Jones. The picture now hangs over the fireplace in our new family room. Ashes of Love After his enlistment was up Three returned home. He had met a wonderful young lady while serving. She has the brightest red hair you have ever seen. The first time we met she told a story about an old lady who told her to go to a party one evening. She met Three there. They walked into the new family room, both shouted out at the same time "That's her, that's the old gypsy lady." as they pointed at the photo on the wall. From time to time Betsy Marie will speak of something Eve has taught her. I am restoring the truck I drove when we first met. Missy still refuses to drive MY mustang as she calls it. We take it for a drive on most Sundays.