How far would you search for your loved one? Would you go to the edge of the world?
Love on the Edge
“You remind me of a relative that Mary would talk about. Still looking for his wife and running from life.”
“Finally.”
Tony Lawnski sloshed his way out of the black forest to find himself in an open plateau. The snow blanketed the grass and sent them all to sleep. There was a sense of loss as Tony stared off at the horizon.
He wiped his tears from his eyes, the cold already freezing them on his hands. The cold was infectious, seeping through the clothes and freezing his bones. It was a penetrating pain.
Tony looked around for any animals, but only silence could be heard behind the backdrop of space. The blue sky had opened up in certain places throughout the world. They were called Edges because when you peered over, you saw the end of the world. One slip, and you’d be falling off planet earth. The Edges shifted and changed as time went on. Appearing here and there and sometimes over here. A phenomenon that science couldn’t explain. Some individuals frightened by what they deemed the end of times would say that a man did this. “He shattered the earth looking for something, and now we all have to pay,” they would say.
Space streamed of dark orange and purple mixing into a painting of beauty and endless expanding possibility. A thread of the world-famous Milky Way. A sight that attracted many lost souls. Artists, writers, philosophers, lovers, politicians, musicians, and individuals hoping to find life in the void.
“Another one, eh,” said an old man. Tony looked up to see a man sitting on a wooden chair by the edge. He was cupping a tin mug with steam rising from it. The man looked aged, like a painting, with its paint cracking and peeling. He wore a brown suit that was tattered, but he covered it with a grey coat that seemed even older than him. It was large on the man and didn’t fit him well. A gift from his father, Tony thought, stepping closer. “You here to jump?” Asked the old man.
Tony shook his head and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a letter. It was crumpled up and soft. Tony had pulled this letter many times out of his pocket, sometimes to give him strength on his journey other times, it just fueled him with anger. “She…I mean, my wife left this for me, telling me to go west,” said Tony creeping closer to the edge.
“Was she on her last leg?”
“She was getting better, I just….”
“Needed to work a little more to get her the treatment. You just needed a break from caring for her. Just needed to find a way to help her suffering stop. If I work this last shift, I’ll have just enough to call a doctor. I’ve heard it all before. You’re not the first to come here looking for their loved ones.”
“Tony.”
“Peter,” said the old man. Tony took a deep breath and looked over the edge. It went on for what almost felt like forever. He could hear the sounds of water pouring from the earth like a wound that couldn’t be healed. He saw shades of skin in the distance piling up at what he believed would be the bottom. Maybe she was down there among the pile, Tony thought.
He had heard of women running to the edges and jumping. They all had their reasons. They were escaping from abusive husbands or chaotic families, women who couldn’t find a way out of the mess before them. Who could blame them?
They weren’t the only people to end up at the edge. Lonely men and children also found themselves leaping off. There were multiple reasons for people to jump. There was even a rumor that if you jumped just as the world was morphing to its new shape, you would be healed from whatever disease that inflicted you. These thoughts scared Tony. Put the fear of God into his bones.
“Why are you here?” Tony asked, gripping the letter.
“Where you from, boy?”
“What?”
“Where you from,” asked Peter leaning back into his chair. He looked over to his lantern, hanging off a stick stabbed in the ground. He pulled out a match and lit it.
“Italy.”
“Italy? That’s a long way to travel.”
“America was not nice on my feet,” Tony said, shaking his leg. “I thought I took a plane…I…I just can’t remember.”
“Plane? I guess you didn’t plan on going back.”
Tony never thought about it. He had work to get back to, but he was hoping he’d find her before then and convince her to come back with him. “I heard a rumor that if you jump just as the planet shifts, it could heal you,” said Tony.
“You thinking maybe she jumped?”
“Yeah.”
“She might have, but the planet doesn’t shift until June, and that’s four months from now. When did she leave?”
“January 4th.”
Silence filled the air. The two just waiting on the edge for one of them to carry on the conversation. Yet only the sound of water filled the empty space.
“I’m looking for my wife too,” said Peter, his words stumbling out.
“What?
“I’m looking for my wife,” he said again, shifting himself in his chair to get a better look at the bright space.
“I guess you didn’t find her?” Asked Tony.
“Not yet, but I feel like I’m close. I’ve been to every shift point on the planet, every edge looking for her. I think she’s running out of edges to hide. And when I find her — ”
“Why did she leave?”
“She got sick. Just like your lass did. You going to jump?”
Tony looked down. It was an option. He already knew what had happened to his wife. It sprung to him all of a sudden. The memory of a warm Venice day when he ran up to his loft and found the door swung open. She was lying there on the bed. Her hand on her chest as she was curled up in the sheets. The neighbor was there with two paramedics. They were shocked when he entered the room. Tony remembered rushing to her but was held back by one of the medics. Their words trying to calm his erupting energy.
Why did he come all this way for then? Why did he think he was looking for her? Was all of this just him running away from everything? From the pain, the drowning sorrow, the pulling loneliness that he felt when he sat in his loft alone. From all his friends who told him to get back into the game. There was plenty of fish in the sea. I just wanted one fish. I didn’t want anyone else, he thought.
“I’m thinking about it,” said Tony. “Do many people jump?”
“Some…Some just walk away.”
“Walk away?”
“Yeah, cowards, all of them,” grunted Peter.
“Did you ask why they left?”
“Why would I?”
“Maybe they just thought — ”
“Thought they could forget; you can never forget. It’s better to jump,” said Peter gripping his mug. Tony could feel the anger swelling up in Peter. It affected the atmosphere. The space flickering to his rage. There was no way for Peter to forget his wife. She was the light to his world. Someone he could spend the rest of his life with
“You know I promised her a rich life.”
“Really?” Asked Peter
“Yeah, one with riches that would make royalty jealous. She never asked for it, but I felt she deserved it,” Tony said, fiddling with his letter. “She would nag me to sing to her before we went to bed.”
“You any good at it?”
“I’m pretty good, but there just wasn’t any money in it.”
“You mean fast money.”
“Yes. Fast money.”
“You going to look for her?”
Tony looked over to Peter. His age had gotten the better of him. Tony could tell that life had been rough on him. It showed in Peter’s blue eyes, the whites getting dull but the blue being bright. One last burst of energy before his flame of life went out. Tony wondered how long Peter might have been doing this. Sitting on Edges. The shifting of the Edges took months and sometimes years. Keeping track of them would be difficult, near impossible. Many scientists still haven’t figured out where an Edge would form. It could be in Egypt or even the North Pole.
“How long have you been searching for your girl?” Tony asked. Peter looked up and stringed together a smile.
“Maybe three to four years? I have a knack of knowing where she’s gone off too.”
Tony paused before asking his next question. Something didn’t add up to him. Did Peter’s wife just leave him after years of marriage? This could have been a possibility many wives tend to fall out of love with their husbands. They don’t treat them the same way they did when they were younger. The husbands became cold and irritated, and when you asked them why they would tell you, “I don’t know.” But Peter’s clothes said otherwise. They were old. Really old, now that Tony had a better look at them, he could tell that the design was something his great great great grandfather would wear. The color had faded from them. The grey coat wasn’t grey but navy blue. His shoes were old leather, different from Tony’s winters boots.
“What year is it?” Tony asked.
“1902, what a strange question.”
“1902?” Tony took a step back from the edge. “You’ve been searching for your wife for two hundred and thirty-eight years.”
“Impossible. I’ve only been searching for four years. She just left yesterday.”
“You’re not making any sense Peter. Your time is all mixed up.”
“No. You’re the one who’s mad. You come here looking for your wife, but you don’t jump. Your clothes look funny and strange. You talk about something called a plane and why would an Italian be here in the great America. You say got here by foot, but you had to at least cross over the ocean by boat,” said Peter, getting riled up with each sentence.
“It’s 2140. That’s the year. You’ve been searching for your wife for two hundred and thirty-eight years. And you’re nowhere close.”
“I’m…I’m getting close. I’ll find her.”
Tony glanced down at the letter, and then he looked up at space. He could hear Peter mumbling to himself, trying to make sense of how much time he had lost. Tony looked back down to his feet and peered slightly off the edge. He dangled his foot, and then he started to sing.
“~If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I’d like to do. Is to save every day ’til eternity passes away. Just to spend them with you.~” Tony voice was a bit rough with the cold. He hit every note but struggled at the last.
“You can kinda sing.”
“I’m not going to jump,” said Tony glancing then to Peter.
Peter leaned back and stroked his beard. His eyes showed signs of disapproval. “Why?”
“I think, Mary…I think Mary wanted me to come to meet you.”
“Impossible I don’t know no Mary.”
“Doesn’t matter. I won’t jump, and I’m not going to end up like you,” said Tony turning away from the edge. Peter squeezed his mug and stood up.
“Excuse me?!”
“You heard me.”
“How dare you,” said Peter, his wrinkles becoming more defined with each passing second. His old face started to look rough and demonic. “What would a workaholic boy like you know. You’re just a coward, a coward who couldn’t give his wife the life she deserved. A coward who threw himself into work to hide the fact that your wife was dying. A coward who squandered his voice for a quick buck. You’re a coward even now!”
“At least I’m not looking for ghosts,” said Tony.
“Ghosts?”
“Hmph. You know why you call people who don’t jump cowards? It’s because the people who don’t jump scare you. You don’t want to forget, but the thing is, you don’t have to forget. When someone you love dies, it’s your right to continue living for them. They live in you. You start living for two. And you can’t understand that. So, when you see people who don’t jump, you call them cowards. Because deep down, you want to jump, and if you see someone do it, you think you’ll get the courage to do it yourself. But you won’t. Because you’re afraid. Afraid of dying and afraid of living.”
Peter took a step forward and then looked back to his chair and the edge. He couldn’t move.
He didn’t want to move. It was holding him back, a frozen ball and chain.
“Where’s your wife, Peter,” asked Tony. He couldn’t say. “You remind me of a relative that Mary would talk about. Still looking for his wife and running from life. I bet she’s at the bottom. If I was her, that’s where I would hide.”
Peter didn’t answer. The rage he once felt started to melt away. Tony fixed his coat and headed back the way he came. He felt a bit better, a bit lighter like some burden had been lifted off him. Yet he could still feel the darkness creeping behind him, but it was fine. He would bear it for Mary. He would bear all of it for Mary.
“Maybe I should pick back up singing. She always did like my voice,” said Tony.
