Leaving the restaurant, a jilted suitor tried to process what had just happened. How could he have been so wrong about how she felt about him. He truly believed they had made a connection, that’s why he kept coming back to her table, to talk to her, to just hear her voice.
Now, all he wanted was to put as much distance between them as he could. There were would be no going back. His impulsive decision to not only declare his love for a woman that was out of reach, but to make a fool of himself over her was more than he could handle right now.
Passing the woman on the street seemed like the perfect solution to what to do with the paper ring. He couldn’t find it in him to unwrap the gift, all the happiness he felt that went into making it, would undo him if he kept it now. Dropping it into the panhandler’s bowl, losing it among the other debris on the street seemed appropriate. At least this woman would appreciate his gesture.
She watched the man’s shoes as he walked away, his sadness enveloping like a thick fog. When she saw him turn the corner, only then did she lift her head, looking after the backs of his shoes. Her heart breaking for him, wondering what caused his sorrow.
Men like him, polished leather shoes, tailored suits, a houndstooth overcoat, didn’t notice her, never dropped money in her bowl. If they did see her, it was usually to toss insults at her, not paper.
Leaning forward to look into the pile of singles and coins in her beggar’s bowl, she saw what he dropped. An intricately folded dollar bill in the shape of a ring. Picking it up she thought of the last man who gave her a ring, her vision blurring through the tears that threatened to fall.
Silently slipping the paper band on the second finger of her left hand, it fit like it as made for her. Gathering the little bit of money she had garnered that night, she made her way through the rain to the women’s shelter a few blocks away. This was her last night there, tomorrow she would have to find a new place to stay. These shelters could only give away a cot for a couple of weeks. There were a half dozen homes she made the rounds through. They knew her at them all, and protected her and her privacy.
She intentionally traveled light, not like some of the other women in the shelter who commandeered shopping carts to carry all their belongings. Too many materials things tied you down. She needed to be able to leave at a moment’s notice, to be able to go anywhere without having to worry about material things. It was easier to keep all her belongings in one pack, carrying everything on her back.
Lying on a squeaky cot in the shelter, her pack as her pillow, she fidgeted with the paper ring, trying to imagine why the man who gave it to her would have it in the first place. Was it given to him, or was paper folding just a hobby of his? More importantly, why had it affect her so much to receive the bauble.
Unbidden a vision of a second man flashed across her memory. In that twilight between sleep and awake, her memories became real again. She was in a plush bead, in a plush neighborhood, settled deep within plush sheets. A life time ago she was happy and loved, a queen in a castle.
A white knight had swept her off her feet, carrying her away to a world she never imagined would be hers. He lavished her with gifts. She wore the finest clothes, adorned with the most beautiful gems and precious metals. She had servants providing her with anything she wanted, cooks who prepared the most delicious meals. She wanted for nothing.
Then the nightmares started. The fears began to grow. The murmurs she would hear, the whispers that she couldn’t quite understand, became louder. The voices were telling her terrible things, telling her to do terrible things.
By the time her white knight knew about the voices, it was almost too late. Days and weeks were spent locked away behind heavy doors. Learned strangers in white coats constantly poking and prodding her, forcing pills down her throat, injecting milking drugs into her veins. Asking questions that she wouldn’t, couldn’t answer.
A day came when the strangers deemed her cured, handed scribbled notes for more pills to her white knight and sent her home to her castle, to her servants, her gold, her gems, and to the voices.
For a while, the pills kept the voices to a murmur, but still didn’t shut them out completely. She tried to ignore them, tried to find ways to distract herself from what the whispers slipped into her ears uninvited, but all too soon they became louder again. The pills didn’t work, and she didn’t want to be locked behind those heavy doors again, didn’t trust the white coat strangers and their questions.
The voices were telling her that her white knight was a fraud, that he only wanted to use her up then he would leave her alone and penniless. Yet, deep in her twisted adn broken psyche, she didn’t trust the voices either. If nothing else was true, that the white knight loved her was the only thing that she could believe.
Because of that, because the voices wouldn’t stop unless she did something, she left. Taking only the things she had when the knight first rescued her, she packed up her meager belongings and stole out of their castle late one night, never looking back. She wrote a letter she to him, explaining why she had to go. On top, she laid her perfect golden band on top.
It was easy to get lost in the city. There were enough homeless and forgotten that she blended in without anyone noticing a new face on the streets. The hum of cars, the deafening din, the cacophony of city noises drowned out the voices in her head, but not the memories and pain in her heart. For a year she wandered the back alleys and slept in dark doorways. Trying her best to disappear into the cracks in the broken concrete sidewalks.
Her white knight, no matter how desperately she had pleaded in her good-bye letter, did not stop loving her, did not stop looking for her. He hired the best trackers to find her, consulted the most skilled doctors to find a way to silence the voices that drove her away. He was so close to rescuing her, another day, two at most and he knew he would find her and bring her home.
Waking from her fitful dream, she was at first disoriented, not sure where she was. Slowly, the realization that she wasn’t back in her castle with her white knight, threatened to undo her. Rising on one elbow, she ran her other hand through her dirty and matted hair, a knot catching in a fold of her paper ring.
Looking down at her hand, remembering the ring and the man who left it to her. She was reminded of her own knight, wondering if he was shrouded in a fog of sadness too. She had never meant to hurt him. Leaving seemed the safest thing to do, to protect him from the voices, from what they were telling her to do. Now, she wasn’t so sure.
Sitting up on the edge of the cot, she pulled her pack into her lap, opening it just enough to see inside. There, in stacks neatly tied with old string, was bundles of cash. She estimated there had to be close to $100. It would be enough for what she planned. Under the stack was her last set of clean clothes. Zipping closed the pack she made her way to the showers at the shelter.
After an hour under water as hot as she could tolerate, her body was clean, her hair unknotted, and she was dressed in presentable jeans and a T-shirt. Leaving the shelter, the woman at the front desk could only stare at the stunning transformation. Only two doors down from the shelter was a thrift store. Browsing through the racks of second hand clothes, she found a presentable dress that fit her now lanky form, and pair of matching shoes that weren’t too scuffed. At stop at the corner drug store she picked up a pair of cheap panties, a toothbrush and gel, a bottle of knock-off perfume, a small compact of makeup, some mascara, and a tube of rosy lip gloss.
The last thing she planned was to have a warm meal. Walking into a familiar fast food spot, she stood back from the counter, looking at the overhead menu, breathing in the smells of cooking hamburgers and greasy fries. Making her choice she stepped to the counter, telling the teenager at the register her order. Pulling out the last of her bills, she discovered she was short of what she needed to pay. Counting the bills again, hoping she had made a mistake, it was clear she didn’t have enough money for her meal. Then she saw the paper ring was still on her left hand.
Twisting the ring off her finger, she gently began to unfold it. If the day ended as she prayed it would, she wouldn’t need this paper counterfeit. Handing the wrinkled bill and her other ones over to the cashier, she accepted her change and the tray of food and went to find an empty table.
Once she finished with her meal, she went into the restaurant restroom to change into her new clothes, brushed her teeth and applied the drugstore makeup. Stuffing her old clothes back into her pack, she careful counted out the change she had remaining. It was just enough.
As she left the restaurant she passed a young man and small boy. The boy seemed especially excited, bubbling over with anticipation.
“This is so cool daddy! We get to spend my whole birthday together!”
Walking across the parking lot, she stepped up to the phone booth outside the neighboring convenient store. She knew the number by heart, praying that it had not been shut off since she last called it. Dropping in the last of her coins into the phone slot, her heart was beating so hard and fast she was sure whoever answered the phone would be able to hear it.
She almost hung up when she hear that click of someone picking up.
“Hello?”
That voice… so sweet. Would he remember her, would he be happy to she called?
“David?”
There was a long silence on the other end. She was afraid he had hung up after hearing her voice.
“Kathy? Is that you”
“David, I want to come home… can I come home?”
“Where are you?”
Kathy described where she was, the parking lot, and the surrounding buildings.
“Don’t leave, I can be there in just a few minutes. Kathy?”
“David?”
“I love you Kathy! I’m coming…”
