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Rated: E · Fiction · Contest · #1154868
Twenty years passed. She visited once a year to view the tree.
It is April, l940. A young handsome soldier, dressed in uniform, carved a message to his new bride on a tree in the park. When the master piece was finished it read, William loves Joann. He carved a heart around the names, and placed an arrow in the middle.He wrapped her in his strong arms and whispered love notes in her ears.

"William, Oh William, she cried. She sat alone on the park bench, looking at the carved art work. Somehow, it seemed longer than twenty years ago that William had done the carving. Yet, then again, it seems only yesterday.

The elements of time and weather had changed the carving. The fresh smell of wood was no longer present, as it was the day William carved it. The heart appeared to be broken, and the names were almost non-existant.

On their first wedding anniversary. A light tap came at the door. Joann answered. A young man, wearing the traditional Western Union garb, waited on the other side.
She took the gram. Quietly she closed the door. Placing the envelope next to her heart, she stood in place. A sob escaped her throat.

She knew. She knew for certain before she opened the flap on the envelope. She knew before she removed the wire from the now opened envelope. She knew exactly how the wire would read. Her hands were shaking, a tear fell on the crisp, yellow paper.

It was difficult for her to see the message. Her eyes would not release the tears they were holding. Wiping her eyes on her apron, she read.

We are sorry to inform you..stop...Your husband...stop...Captain William Braun...stop...is missing in action...stop...

A scream from deep inside her being, surfaced. She threw herself on the couch and wept.

She then thought about the carving. She had to go touch that tree. She must stand in that same spot where William had stood to do the carving. The carving was all she had left. She walked to the park to find the tree. The tree belonging to her and William. Her heart was breaking. She found the tree and sat on the bench. That same bench she had sat on the day he carved, William loves Joann. When the shadows of dusk fell around her. She walked back to her lonely, empty apartment. Time meant nothing to her.

Every night before she retired to bed, she removed the picture of the young soldier off the mantel. She placed her lips next to the cold, emotionless glass frame, and kissed the image contained within. When their song, an old blues tune, played on the Victrola, she held the framed picture close to her heart, and danced around the room.

Her life had been hopelessly lonely since that day she received the wire.
She worked in a pencil factory office. Keeping books. Her office was small and away from the general flow of people. She had no friends, to speak of. No family.
Her evenings were spent in her small apartment, located above the factory in which she worked.Several months after she received the telegram, she moved into a more affordable apartment. She lived a quite solitude life. A dimmed lamp illuminated the window pane in her small, well kept living room. She left the lamp burning to light the way for William. She hoped he would find his way back to her, if she lit the way.


Their twentieth anniversary arrived. She is not the young girl he married twenty years ago. Time has not been good to her. She walks to the park. The pain in her heart remains. She knows it will never go away. She found the bench. It is still the same bench from times past. She sits and stares. Her eyes are focused on the carving, her mind is on the day the carving was put there.

Her thoughts are interrupted. A gentleman, in an Army uniform, asked her if he may sit down on the bench. How can she refuse him. He is a soldier. One does not refuse a soldier a place to set, even if that one chooses to be alone.
The soldier is walking on canes. His frame is bent. He is frail. She moves to the far end of the bench. She noticed how tired the soldier looks. His uniform is hanging loosely on his thin body. The soldier removed his hat and placed it on the bench.

"Do you come here often?" He asked

"No, only once each year, on this date.." She answered.

"That seems odd, why only once a year?" He inquired.

Annoyed, she snapped, "I come to be alone, if you don't mind."

"I'm sorry if I offended you. I am here because I wanted to see this tree."

She looked at him with anger welling in her eyes. Why was he here, infringing on her privacy? This is her bench. All she asked is one day out of the year to sit on this bench. And the tree. Why does he want to see the tree? That is her tree, well....her and Williams tree. This stranger, seated next to her has no right to the tree. Why is he intruding?

"What? What did you say?" He had interrupted her thoughts again.

"I said, I came here to see this tree. I carved on that tree twenty years ago."

"It can't be. I am sorry, you are at the wrong tree."


She ran to the tree and pointed to the carving, William loves Joann.

" This is the only carving on the tree. This tree belongs to me and my love. He carved this twenty years ago. Are you listening to me?"

she asked as the soldier continued to talk. One trying to talk over the other.

"I married my love," he said, a tear slid down his rough,bony cheek. " I was sent to battle, and was captured and placed in a P.O.W. camp. I have just recently been released."

She lifted her head and looked at the war-torn soldier seated on the bench. Tears stung her eyes. "William?"

"Joann?"


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