The Woman Who Waited

In the lonely outskirts of the countryside there was a small home made for two. The home rested half in the rough sands of the beach and half in the plush, green grass of the field. From the front you could see glittering waters and the small dots of boats continuing their trade routes. From the back of the house you could see the green, grassy meadows with sprigs of colorful flowers popping up here and there. But what you couldn’t see from the front nor the back was the slowly climbing terrain of a solitary cliff at the side of the home.

The home was planned for two, but at the time, only held one. A woman. And every morning that woman slowly, but surely, made her way up the cliff near her home and didn’t come back down until the sun finished setting. She was waiting, searching. Her lover had not yet returned from the battle over seas. But she did not fear, for she knew he would.

So there she sat, at the top of her lonely cliff, waiting for his ship to return. Sometimes, on an off day, she would see a ship headed for her shoreline; the massive white sails blowing the wooden ship towards her home. On these days she would rush down to the beach, wading to her knees in the warm salt waters, and wait for the ship to dock. She kindly greeted the men as they stepped off the ship, watching as they rejoined their families, hoping her husband was next. But not one of these ships contained the man she was looking for. So the next day she would continue her journey back up the cliff to sit and wait.

On one day, her journey up to her spot was interrupted.

“Good day, Madame,” a tall, skinny man had suddenly appeared before her. He wore a fancy, black suit that put her worn, yellow sundress to shame. On top of the man’s head was placed a black top hat with a red rose on the side, and on his feet were shiny new shoes with the laces tied tight. His face was a peculiar shape. The woman was use to the soft, scruffy faces of the sailors and soldiers, not the sharp angles and high arching eyebrows of this man. He kept his hands in front of him, folded strongly around a dark metal cane with swirling patterns.

“Good day, Sir.” The woman said politely before passing the man, continuing her way up the cliff. This happened five more times, on the days following, before the man finally said more than his usual greeting.

“Oh Madame, I have a question to ask you,” the man said after she passed him.

Turning around she smiled, “Yes?”

“I was wondering why you climbed up this cliff everyday, and back down every night.”

“Well you see, kind sir, I am waiting.” The man simply nodded his head in understanding and the woman continued on her way.

The next morning the man again said his hello and asked her the question.

Politely smiling, she answered, “Sir, I am simply waiting at the top.” And again, the woman turned and continued her journey up the cliff.

That night, as the woman began her trail down the cliff she saw the man. This was the first she had seen of him after sundown.

“Miss, may I ask, for what you are waiting?”

“My husband,” she replied, taking one last glance across the sea. She took a small step before he spoke again.

“Where has he gone to?”

“Battle, sir. He was asked to fight in the war.” And with that the man stepped aside and let the woman continue her path home.

The next day the man did not say hello. He began with a proposition. “Ma’am, if I were to have a proposal for you, would you listen?”

“Of course I shall,” the woman smiled.

“If I were able to bring back your husband, safely, would you do a task for me?”

Unsure of what the man meant, she asked, “And what kind a task would allow you to do such a thing?”

“A simple yes or no Madame. The task comes at a later date.”

“No thank you, I believe I shall wait.” And with that the woman continued on her way. On this day, though, while she was waiting, she wondered. What had the man meant when he had asked that question? Could he really bring her lover home safely from all the way over here?

Everyday for the next thirty days the man asked the woman, and everyday the woman replied with a “No thank you,” and a small smile.

It had now been two months past her husbands planned arrival date and the woman was worried. News had been spreading through the town of a ship that had been attacked while returning, with only one survivor being carried back by a sister ship.

The day began no different than the rest. The woman began her journey up her cliff and was interrupted by the man in the black suit.

“Good day, Madame. I believe you have heard the news?”

“Indeed I have, Sir,” she replied quietly. The man grinned wide.

“Yes, those poor souls on the Swallow.”

“Excuse me, Sir. But how do you know which ship it was?” The woman was holding her breathe waiting for his answer, but the man simply continued grinning.

“My proposal still stands, my dear.”

“But if my husband was on that ship, how would you get him back?” Tears prickled the corners of the woman’s eyes.

The man shook his head, “No questions, just a yes or no please.”

She had felt defeated. She had spent so long sitting at the top of the cliff, waiting. Watching as the boats sliced through the open waters, just hoping one would contain her lover. Now, upon hearing of her husband’s misfortune, she was at a loss of thought. She hadn’t even noticed when the three letter word quietly slipped from her tongue. “Yes.”

“Thank you my dear, it is done.” With that the man disappeared and the woman continued on her way.

For the next five days the man did not come to greet the woman, nor did a ship peak from the horizon. Finally the woman had heard news that the ship with the survivor was to arrive in two days time. Hoping the man in the black suit would stick to his word, she prayed that this ship contained her lover.

At noon the next day, as the woman sat waiting on her cliff, she saw the faintest dot of a ship’s sails on the edge of the gleaming water.

“My dear, it is time.” She had heard the man in the black suit speak from behind her. She had never seen him when the sun was high overhead and was unsure why he was appearing now.

“Time?” She asked, puzzled.

“Yes miss, for your task,” he reminded her.

“Oh yes,” she smiled shyly, “I do apologize. What shall I have to do?”

No words were spoken as the woman stood up and slowly walked to end of the cliff. She peered over the edge quickly before turning, horrified, towards the man. He was simply grinning while his normally dark eyes seemed to glow a faint red. The woman was being forced to walk closer and closer to the edge. As she tried to stop herself, she tripped. Making a long fall into the water, she finally rested on a large, smooth rock submerged under the water. The man looked over the edge of the cliff, making sure the dead body was unmoving. A small swirl was added to his cane near the top.

The next morning the ship had arrived, carrying the single survivor from the wreck. The sailor had walked across the beach and up to the front door of his house, the one half in the sand and half in the grass. He had opened the wide wooden door, expecting to see his wife waiting for him, but instead he saw no one. He quietly closed the door, confused. But he soon heard a knock.

“Good day, Sir,” said a man in a crisp black suit.

“Good day.”

“I know where your wife is. If you wish to find her, please follow me. But I shall tell you, if I bring you to her it may not be as you please.”

“Bring me.” The sailor would do anything to see his lover.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

“As you wish my dear Sir.”

The sailor followed the man to the water’s edge below the cliff. Confusion was clearly written on his face.

“Swim below. You shall find her.”

The sailor dove into the chilled dark waters below the cave, bumping into the stray jagged rocks. The sailor swam and swam but could not find the one for whom he searched. He swam back to the surface. “I cannot find her!” He yelled.

The man’s eyes began to glow a faint red. “Swim.”

The sailor was quickly pulled under the water’s surface, down to a large, smooth rock. His hand grazed by that of his wife’s. He turned his head to see her peaceful face before losing the last of his air.

A small swirl was added near the top of the cane that belonged to the man in the black suit, attached to the one added the day before.