The Letter Part 1

We had enjoyed a lovely day in the country. The mountains were ablaze with the colors of the fall. A picnic by a rocky stream and some much needed time together had made the day one of the most special in my life. It was our first anniversary and Susan had planned the surprise trip as a gift for me. The Balsam Inn where we had spent the weekend was one of the oldest and finest in the area. The demands of my law practice had caused some tenderness between us of late and the undisturbed time we spent together seemed to be just what we needed to rekindle the lost spark of our love.

I was indeed a happy man as we finished our picnic lunch, got into our carriage and started at a slow trot for home. Normally, we wouldn't travel after dark, but I had a case to try in the morning. We could see well enough by the light of the carriage lantern. Atlas, our carriage horse, seemed familiar with the route. All seemed well in our world and in our marriage for the first time in many months.

They say that all good things must come to an end, however none of us ever seem to realize how precariously near that end may be. There was a chill in the late evening, autumn air. I covered our laps with a blanket and placed one arm around Susan’s shoulders as I held the reigns with the other.

“Susan…” I whispered in her ear, “I’m so glad we had this time together. It shall be one of my fondest memories. I hope that we will be together forever just as we have been this weekend. I want you to know that I will never be very far away from you.”

“Do you swear it to me, Richard?”

“I swear it. I will never leave you in this life or the next.”

“Neither will I, I swear.” said Susan.

That was the last of our conversation I can remember. I suppose I will never know what Atlas saw on the road or in the woods that startled him when he bolted. I tried to control him but I was no match for the strength of such a large frightened carriage horse.

“Richard! Help me…” These were the last words I heard of Susan. I woke up beside the overturned carriage in the woods. Twilight was beginning to settle in and patches of fog obscured my view of the road. The wind was whistling mournfully through the tall trees and I felt chilled to the bone. I lay there stunned for what seemed like an eternity before I attempted to move. As I moved, I felt soaring pain rush through my body. I presumed most of my bones were broken. I turned my head to the side and saw my wife pinned beneath the heavy carriage. The horse lay in the path ahead, its head in a grotesque position. Its neck had broken and it must’ve died instantly. There was no way that I could get the heavy carriage removed from over Susan by myself.

I crawled to her side. She lay face down under the carriage. I reached out to touch her face and felt the sticky warmth of her blood on my fingers. I realized that her head rested in a pool of blood but she was still alive and moaned when I touched her. I feared that her injuries could be fatal. I had to find help, to help me lift the carriage and get Susan to the hospital in the city and I had to do it quickly. The city was at least 60 miles away from the Balsam Inn. It would be a long ride and Susan had no time to spare.

I trembled with weakness as I held to a nearby tree for support and pulled myself to my feet. Twilight had turned to darkness. The sounds of the nocturnal, woodland creatures was terrifying. I was a city man, not used to the sights and sounds of the wild. Walking back to the inn in that pitch black darkness seemed like the most horrifying thing I had ever been expected to do. There were brief moments of illumination from the moon as the clouds parted before covering it again and far up the side of the mountain at the end of the road within its many twists and turns, I could barely make out the light coming from the entrance lanterns of the inn.

Would I be able to walk, or was I like my companions, fated to die on this roadside so far from home? I felt no pain and seemed to be uninjured. I started towards the inn. The climb was torturous and at times my chest felt as if it would explode with the strain but I pushed on towards help. I had to get there before life was completely crushed out of Susan. The road seemed unending, climbing, twisting up into the cold and darkness.

Finally I had an unobstructed view of the twin lanterns, one on each gate of the Balsam Inn. Breathlessly I ran up the lane to the massive double oak doors and pounded on them with all the dissipated strength I had left. Finally I heard footsteps coming down the staircase and moving towards the door. I knew the innkeeper would be surprised to see me again and I prayed that he had a good carriage and a swift horse.

The bolt was lifted and one of the doors swung open. There was no candle or lamp lighted and by the moonlight I saw the figure of a young woman standing before me.

“Richard, come inside. Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you. Our carriage is ready and the picnic is packed. We need to head back for home now.” said Susan.

Susan held out her hand and I took it. The awful reality of what had happened broke into my consciousness. We were dead, all of us, Susan, Atlas and I. Yes, we were dead and we were somehow doomed to relive that carriage wreck throughout eternity. I have already died through it thousands of times. I am weary, so weary. Perhaps this is the punishment reserved for those who swear to things they do not rule. I don’t know if anyone will ever be able to see the words on this paper, if the line between my existence and the existence of the living can be crossed but I am writing this letter in fervent hope that someone will someday find it and discover a way of release for me, my wife and even our poor horse. Please dear reader, I beg you to have pity and help us find safe passage from this world to the next.

- Richard Herring
October 31, 1854

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To be continued...
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