That Dress

"Why do I always wait until the last minute to figure out my Halloween costume?" Rebecca Jenkins fretted. She went over to the local discount chain and picked through the unwanted remains of this year's Halloween costume crop. After considering a too-tight witch costume and a naughty maid costume, and then deciding that she would rather not be mistaken for a stripper this year, she was back to square one.

Rebecca briefly considered resurrecting her cat costume from a few years a go but it just seemed so boring. Suddenly, an idea struck her. She would go up to her parents' attic and see if she could find some of the costumes from her high school plays. There just had to be something workable up there!

As Rebecca climbed the creaky old ladder to the attic she got a sudden chill that went right down to her bones. She would have to remember to tell her dad to check the insulation up there. After pulling open boxes filled with musty bed linens, her sister's old prom dress, her dad's military uniform, she still had no costume.

Then, underneath a dusty old blanket she spotted it. It was perfect: a short sequined white dress with ostrich feathers across the front. This would make a perfect flapper costume.

Rebecca inspected the garment. Obviously, this was not some cheap, store-bought costume. It was lined with silk and looked like it was custom tailored. It must have been very expensive, she thought. It belonged to someone. But who? It even looked vaguely familiar to her. And how did it stay so fresh and new and clean up here among the dust and cobwebs? Oh well, why question her good fortune, she thought, and grabbed the dress. When she got back down to the main house she breathed a sigh of relief. It was always a little spooky up in the attic; there was something about it that just made her uneasy.

Downstairs Rebecca tried on her discovery. She couldn't believe it. It fit her perfectly. She turned and admired herself in the mirror. Never before had a dress been so flattering on her. It was almost as if this dress had been made just for her.

Rebecca confidently went to her Halloween party at the Ocean Club and her costume was a hit. In fact, she was getting a lot of attention from one particular guy there. He had one of those faces that looked familiar to her even though they had just met. He told her his name was Gary and that he could not take his eyes off of her. They danced and then chatted for a long time. As the party was winding down, Gary asked Rebecca if she would like to take a walk. Of course, she thought. There was something about this guy: he was funny and charming, but not in the cold, calculating way most guys she seemed to meet were. He seemed kind of old-fashioned and trustworthy, like she was safe with him.

They walked along the dark, desolate boardwalk and sat on an old bench looking out at the ocean. Rebecca took a deep breath of the salty air and looked up at the mosaic of stars dotting the sky, sparkling like the sequins on her dress. The weather was quite mild, but suddenly Rebecca began to shiver. Gary wrapped his jacket around her shoulders. She only now realized that he had not been wearing any costume, but just a regular suit.

"Wanna go swimming?" Gary asked with a twinkle in his dark, flashing eyes.

"Are you kidding?" she was shocked at his sudden boldness with her. "I don't even have a bathing suit."

"Well, just go in your underwear. I promise I won't look," her suitor pleaded.

"I don't think so," she replied, "I may be a little drunk, but I am not crazy. I don't want to get any colder than I am."

"Okay, if you say so," he smiled while stripping down to his underwear, "But I'm going in with or without you. Just remember, this time of year the water is warmer than the air outside. It's going to feel like a bath in there." He started running down the beach to the water.

"Wait, don't leave me up here by myself," Rebecca called after him, nervously chuckling. She kicked off her pumps, threw off his blazer and ran across the sand to follow him, worrying who might be lurking up on the boardwalk. He had run into the darkness and she could just barely make out his figure against the water.

"Come on down, Millie," he called back, "The water's great! Just like on our honeymoon."

As Rebecca ran across the soft, cool, damp sand and felt the wind in her face she began laughing at her recklessness: "What do I really know about this guy? One second he is calling me by the wrong name and the next he is planning our honeymoon." He was obviously a little nutty, and here she was following him through the darkness to the water's edge.

Lost in her thoughts, she had taken her eyes off of Gary. In fact, when she looked back up, she couldn't find him anymore. When she got to the water's edge there was no sign of him. Worried, she called to him. "Gary, Gary, where are you? This isn't funny." The crashing of waves was the only reply she got.

After screaming his name a few more times Rebecca frantically ran back to the bench they were sitting on to call for help. She figured he must have had a cell phone in his pocket. But when she returned all of his clothes were gone. Puzzled, she thought maybe he had ditched her. Maybe, she foolishly hoped against hope, he had just lost track of her down there and was looking for her right now. She searched the bench for a note or something to indicate what happened. Instead, Rebecca Jenkins noticed the bench had a small bronze plaque on it. She strained her eyes to read it under the dim light of the full moon. It read: "For our beloved parents Mildred and Gary Jenkins lost at sea on their fortieth wedding anniversary: October 31, 1965." It was at that moment she recalled where she had seen that dress before: in her grandparents' wedding picture.

Rebecca was stunned. She had often walked along this boardwalk and read the plaques on some of the benches along it. She had no idea that one was dedicated to her own grandparents. Her father had spoken very little of his parents. In fact, she had never met them, and never thought about them. Until now. Never again would they be forgotten.


1150 words