Water Under the Bridge

Damon stepped into the water upstream from the old bridge arching overhead. He signaled to his buddy Jerry, and pulled his diving mask down. His regulator was set. A flashlight hung from the front of his harness.

This would be his first unsupervised dive. He waded into the cool water. Though not deep, the current would be brisk when flowing between the bridge piers.

At chest deep, Damon placed his mouthpiece and inhaled. He felt the cold air flow down his throat.

Don’t hold your breath. He repeated the mantra learned in his diving class as he leaned into the water and went under.

Damon and Jerry worked at dead-end jobs. Their company offered long hours and few opportunities for advancement. Bored with sorting through lists and packing boxes for delivery, they needed diversion.

What once seemed like easy money had now become drudgery. At thirty-five, Damon felt trapped. The term ‘going postal’ had begun to make sense to him. He didn’t want to go there. But he was so occupied with work, overtime and more work, he had little time for anything else.

The ever-present option to expand his horizons remained unfulfilled due to inertia. Am I just another drone?

Despite filling his quota of shipping boxes, the work never ended. However much he did today, the list only grew longer. He could never finish. Never get ahead. What am I doing?

Damon pushed thoughts of work away. The river water was murky. He swam to the bottom and let the current carry him forward. He kept his flashlight trained down, scanning the sand for… what? Rings? Seriously? What will I find?

Weeks ago, Jerry approached him and said, “The legend goes, that, for years… and forever, jilted lovers have thrown their rings off the bridge and into the river. Damon… There’s decades of rings down there. Gold’s topping four grand per ounce… Per ounce!”

How can this work? I can’t see anything.

Unnamable debris floated by. Damon swam close to the bottom to spot anything of value. Most of what he saw made him want to quit.

Is this a sewer?

Damon crept along the bottom. Anything metallic, or shiny got a closer look.

The concrete pier supporting the arch loomed. The water piled up before gaining speed into the narrowed channel. Damon braced himself against the pier and shone his light at the base. Where concrete met the river bottom, silt had washed out forming a hollow. Damon saw glinting metal lying in the gap.

Thrilled, he pulled a dozen rings out and reminded himself to keep breathing. Wasting no time, he stuffed them into the bag he carried.

This has possibilities!

Working downstream, bracing against the pier and peering at the base, he found more rings. He exposed more rings by fanning away silt. Coming out from under the bridge, the current slowed. There he found more rings.

A larger shiny object caught Damon’s attention. He moved to it, and wiping it free of silt, held it up. It was a mirror. Looking into it, his appearance startled him. The flashlight’s glare shone off his goggles. His eyes were invisible. He looked like a faceless monster.

Looking further, he found more rings, but fewer than before. He became aware of time passing and pushed off the bottom toward the surface.

Making his way to shore, Damon looked around to see Jerry surface nearby. Holding up his sack, he pushed back his goggles and waved.

They made their way to shore, packed their gear and went back to Jerry’s apartment to assess their finds.

Jerry held up his bag of rings, feeling its heft. “Look at this! I bet it weighs a pound. That’s sixteen ounces, man. We’re rich!”

“Of course, rings aren’t made of pure gold…”

“Of course. But still… We need to find a place to melt them down.”

“Or sell them to a jeweler… Hate to just melt them down.”

“Whatever brings in the most moolah, my friend…”

Damon up ended his sack and spilled his collection of rings onto the table. He corralled them with his hands and examined his spoils.

“Some of them have diamonds! And look at this one…”

Damon held the ring up to the light. It was larger than the others, with a yellowish stone mounted in it. He looked closely.

“It’s got an inscription…”

Jerry handed him a magnifying glass.

“Uhm… It says… ‘Love’s secret kept ∞ - 9/1967.’ What’s that mean?”

Jerry shrugged. “We’ll never know.”

Damon said, “This is so odd. I want to keep this out. Not melt it down. Maybe the original owner would want it back…”

“If they’re alive. We agreed to split fifty-fifty…”

“Yeah…?”

“So, whatever that’s worth, is part of your cut.”

Damon didn’t care. “Whatever…”

Jerry poured his rings out. He picked a couple of leaves out of the pile. Laughing, he slipped four rings onto his pinky. Strutting around, he stuck his nose in the air, arched his back and stretched out his hand.

Putting on an accent he said, “My, my… whatever shall I wear to the ball?”

They laughed.

Jerry got serious. “We need to find a jeweler. See what their worth.”

“And go back to the bridge. Tomorrow morning?”

They drove uptown to get the rings appraised.

The jeweler, Mr. Jerome, put a loupe to his eye and peered at the inscription inside Damon’s find.

“Hmmm… Honey Topaz. Nice. Tradition says it promotes forgiveness and truthfulness.” He looked at the two young men. “If you believe that sort of thing…” He wrote something and picked up his phone.

“A friend of mine sold it. Maybe he keeps good records.” He waited with the phone to his ear. “Yes, Marcus… Lou. I’m wondering if you can help me. I have a ring here, lost and found. Honey Topaz, sold by you in ‘67. Looks like white gold. What can you tell me about it?”

He hung up his phone. “He’ll call me back.” He turned to the bags Jerry and Damon brought. He emptied the bags onto a tray. “What do we have here? I see. Treasure hunters, eh? Do you want them each appraised? Or are you looking to sell by weight?”

He stood back, giving Damon and Jerry space. They looked at each other and back to Mr. Jerome.

Jerry asked, “By weight would be faster. But would getting each ring appraised be worth the trouble?”

“Yes… That would be for you to decide. At first glance, these don’t look especially valuable. But there might be one or two that could boost your return…”

Damon said, “While we’re waiting for your friend to call back, could you estimate what you think? Then, if something draws your attention…”

Mr. Jerome looked at his phone and nodded. “Off the bat, your topaz may be the most expensive of the lot. Most of them don’t have stones. Those that do are mainly chips. Nothing special about them. I’m guessing at the gold content. Some of them look old. But most are eighteen carats…”

Damon and Jerry nodded. Jerry said, “If we wanted to take the money and run. You know, without waiting… What…?”

The phone rang. Jerry sighed.

Mr. Jerome picked up. “Marcus. Whaddya got…? I see. Interesting. They say they want to return the ring to its owner. Alright. I’ll tell them. Thanks.”

He disconnected and set the phone down.

Damon said, “What? What did he say?”

“Marcus knows the family, but wants to protect their privacy…”

Damon said, “I don’t want anything from them. I’m curious about the ring, of course. The story behind it… But if they don’t want to talk… I get it.”

Mr. Jerome said, “If you want to return it, I could get it to them through Marcus…”

Damon balked. “I’d want to tell them how I found it too. But I wouldn’t harass them…”

Mr. Jerome looked at Damon. He felt he was being appraised.

“Tell you what. You didn’t hear this from Marcus… or me.” Both Damon and Jerry leaned forward. “The family name is in the inscription. That’s all I can say. Do what you want with that.”

Mr. Jerome took the tray and placed it on his scale.

Jerry asked, “If we were selling the topaz. How much is it worth?”

“With a good cleaning… nine-fifty…”

“Damon said, “Thanks. We’re not ready to sell yet. We’re shopping around.”

“Of course. Hope to see you again…” Mr. Jerome set the tray with the rings before them and turned away.

They put the rings back into the bags. Jerry nodded toward the door. They left.

Damon mulled over this new information.

“Love’s secret kept, infinity, 1967… Love? Secret? Kept? Infinity? You hear any last names in that?”

Jerry shook his head.

Damon said, “Love’s the only one that sounds possible. Wasn’t there a pop singer… Last name was love?”

“Yeah. But that was a stage name. Who else has that name? I mean, normal people?”

“The name’s uncommon. What if she changed her name…? Got married?”

“Jeweler said the name is on the ring…”

“And what’s the secret? Gotta find out…”

Damon pulled out his phone and dialed. “Yeah. Looking for a person with the last name, Love. Living locally.” He pulled out a pen and wrote a number on the back of his hand. He repeated it and nodded. “Yeah, great. Thanks…”

He dialed the number. When it began to ring, he gave Jerry a thumbs up and leaned back against the car seat.

“It went to message…”

Jerry said, “Don’t leave a message. Call back.”

Damon said, “They picked up… Hi. Yes… Sorry to bother you. I found a ring. A nice ring with an inscription. I’m trying to return it to the original owner… and I thought it might be you… You know of the ring? Can you tell me what’s written inside it? I don’t want to give it to… of course… That’s it! That’s great. How can I get it to you? We could meet for coffee… Okay. When? I know the place. See you in an hour… Bye… Oh! I’m wearing a denim jacket. Cool…”

Damon disconnected. “She’s meeting me at Beanie’s Café. Across town, on sixth... You want to take me? Or…?”

“I’ll take you and wait in the car. Buy me a coffee for my trouble…”

“Cool… That was easy…”

“Yeah. How hard is it to give away a grand?”

“But she knew the inscription. Can’t make that up… Who has a name like ‘Love’?”

Jerry began to hum aimlessly. “Isn’t there a song? ‘What’s in a name?’”

“I heard that somewhere… yeah…”

Jerry dropped Damon at Beanies and parked in a shady spot to wait.

Jerry went into the café and found a table where he could see the door.

The waitress brought him a coffee. Damon saw a woman enter and look around. He thought she looked about fifty. Damon waved and she approached.

She said, “I didn’t get your name. Did you call me…?”

“Yeah. About the ring. You knew the inscription. Hi. I’m Damon.”

“Love’s secret kept… How could I forget?”

“So, the ring is yours? You don’t look old enough for… 1967?”

“My father gave it to my mother. By the way…”

“Oh… take a seat. Can I get you coffee? Pie?”

“Just coffee. But, what do you want? Why are you doing this?”

“Trust me… I don’t want anything. I found the ring and the inscription intrigued me… I thought someone might wish they had it…”

He waved at the waitress and held up his cup.

She gave him a look, unsure.

He said, “Tell me whatever you want. Or nothing. I want to make sure the ring gets back to its rightful owner.”

She nodded. “You can call me Dottie. My mother was Dorothy Love. Mike Spaulding gave the ring to her. They wanted to marry. But their parents thought they were too young.”

“So, what’s the secret?”

“Let me tell it.”

“Right. Sorry…”

The waitress brought Dottie her coffee and refilled Damon’s cup.

“Mike went into the Army. Not sure if he got drafted or joined. He went to Viet Nam. They never saw each other again.”

“Oh…”

“The secret was me.”

Damon leaned forward.

“When Mike stopped writing, Mom panicked. Thought he’d moved on. Abandoned her. But she was pregnant. And unmarried.”

“Wow… back then…”

“Right. Desperate and furious, Mom threw the ring off the bridge. She felt he’d broken all his promises.”

Damon nodded.

She continued. “Then she found out he’d been killed in action. It was no one’s fault. But she had me and had to deal… She never got married.”

“Dottie… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

She put her hand up, to stop him. “I basically never talked about any of this before. I need this. Mom told me what happened. About the ring and everything. She wanted me to know. Not to hate the father I never knew.”

“Right…”

“But it sucked when classmates, both boys and girls, heard my mom wasn’t married… You can’t imagine the shame of being called a bastard.”

Damon said, “I do get it. I’ve been called a bastard most of my life. For a while, I thought it was my given name.”

Shocked, Dottie said, “Your parents weren’t married either?”

“No. They were. I’m more of an honorary bastard. A merit badge, more than being born to it.”

She tried not to laugh.

Damon said, “You and I could do a selfie and put it on Facebook, ‘two, unrelated bastards having coffee.’”

“I don’t think so. Are you serious?”

“Not really. Just trying to make it okay. No one cares anymore.”

“You think?”

“I know. Women have babies all the time, now. Married or not. It’s like, a thing…”

She thought for a moment and nodded. “Yeah. You might be right. Weird…”

“But, regardless…” He dug in his pocket and pulled the ring out. “For what it’s worth, this is yours. Sorry, I didn’t get a nice box for it, or…”

Dottie took the ring and examined it. She wiped tears away and put the ring on her finger.

They heard a commotion and turned to see other patrons watching them. They started clapping.

Laughing, Dottie said, “They think you proposed.” She put her hands up to stop them. She called out. “it’s not what you think…”

She smiled at Damon. “Thank you. I never expected…”

“I’m glad I could do this. It’s not a big deal for me, but…”

“Yes. Yes… You’re right. It is for me.”

Damon put some money on the table. “I’ll let you go.” He wrote his name and number on a napkin. “If you ever want to talk…”

Dottie smiled. “Maybe I will…”

They stood and shook hands. Dottie leaned in to give him a hug.

“Thanks… This means a lot.”

She stopped at the door and gave him a little wave before exiting.

Damon ordered two coffees to go and texted Jerry.

They spent their next day off down under the bridge.