September 7, 2001

Short Story Writing Exercise For Three Way Action:

Incorporate the following six words in a short story: Rain, wedding ring, answering machine, sea glass, spider's web, shovel

He fidgeted uncomfortably. His windbreaker, deemed "one size fits all", was anything but. The sleeves were too short and cut at his underarms. He was constantly pushing the oversized hood up out of his eyes to see where he was going, wondering aloud if he looked like the Grim Reaper wearing hand-me-downs. Still, for the most part it kept him dry from the constant drizzle that had been falling now for the last three days. He turned and looked at the mushy footprints his Wellies left on the beach, a lone trail back to the distant lot where he had parked the car.

"Well. Here we are."

He thought about the cryptic message that was left on his machine some what? 7? 10? days ago, as he dropped his shovel to the sand and flopped down beside it. Reaching inside the windbreaker to pull out a folded sheet of foolscap, he discovered another spot the damn thing failed to cover. He jumped up and brushed the wet sand off his now soaked backside.

Muttering, he opened up the foolscap and read it's contents aloud. "Chicken, corn-on-the-cob, mushrooms-----." He paused, glanced about, and flipped the thing over. "Glad to see you've found the second clue," he continued reading, "I hope it didn't take you long to decipher the message I left you."

Nope, didn't take long at all to figure out what you meant. Driving halfway across the country on the other hand...

He read on. "Now that you've picked this letter up from the ranger station at the park entrance, here's what I want you to do to find the next clue." His eyes scanned the instructions. "Blah, blah, blah, park and walk, stop where the forest reaches out closet to the point, march out roughly 50 paces, and..."

Hmm, forest - point. Point - forest. Close enough for me.

Brandishing the shovel, he began to dig. The sand was heavy with moisture. It wasn't long until the windbreaker came off, no longer necessary now that his sweat was soaking him from the inside out. The day passed unnoticed as he continued his excavation, pausing now and again for a drink of water from his hip flask. Without warning, his shovel connected with something solid. The *thunk* of the tool hitting the object reverberated up his arms, jarring him out of his rhythm.

He tossed the shovel aside. On his knees, he cleared the sand away from the object with his hands. It was a small chest, no larger than a jewelry box.

"Buried treasure," he said with a wry smile as he plucked it from the sand. "Ahar mateys! Let's see what Capt'n Kidd has left for us."

Sitting on the edge of his hole, he flipped the latch and opened the small chest. Inside were a number of baubles. Sea glass, he thought. What an original thing to bury on a beach. He shifted the stones about, feeling for anything else. He came up with an old fashioned house key and, surprise surprise, another folded piece of foolscap. He opened the note up and read it through.

After a few minutes of contemplation, he placed the note and the house key back in the chest and closed it. Picking up his windbreaker and shovel, he made his way back to the parking lot where he left the car. The drizzle had finally come to an end, and the late afternoon sun was gradually burning a hole though the cloudcover.

Leaving the park, he stopped briefly at the ranger station for directions, then drove off at a leisurely pace. The sun was setting in a brilliant shade of burgundy by the time he turned off the main road down a narrow rutted laneway. Reaching the end, he parked the car under the canopy of the trees and made his way along the only path visible. Occasionally, he would brush away one of the many spiderwebs that hung in ambush along the path. Never see them until it's too damn late.

The path ended at a log cabin sitting beside a creek that ran through the forest. Smoke rose from the chimney and there was some light within the cabin, though he couldn't make out any details. He approached the door as he rifled through his pockets for the key he dug up earlier that day. Should I knock? He did, not sure what to expect. After a few moments of silence, he knocked again.

"No answer. Humph. Well, might as well see this through."

He tried the key. Feeling the bolt unlock, he inhaled deeply, held the breath for a moment, and exhaled slowly as he opened the door.

Once inside, he closed the door behind him and let his eyes adjust to the light. He stood in the kitchen, a wood stove against the wall to his right and a large porcelain sink next to an old refridgerator to his left. He could smell a roast cooking in the oven, and was suddenly aware that he hadn't eaten since breakfast.

He made his way through the kitchen to the dining area. There he found a table and 2 chairs, furnished from distressed wood. The table was fully set for two; fine china and antique silverware resting upon aubergine cloth placemats. A glass icebucket sat in the middle of the table, chilling a bottle of white wine, guarded by a pair of wine glasses. A bottle of red wine stood nearby. Two tall candles flanked this setting, their flickering light casting odd shadows on the walls of the cabin.

Taking in this scene, he noticed a very small box and a card resting on one of the plates. He walked over to it and picked them up. He read the card. "Will you marry me?" What in the—? Opening the box, he found a wedding band inside. Puzzled, he slipped it on his finger. Sure enough, it fit him perfectly.

"It certainly took you long enough to get here," a woman's voice said from the living room, startling him. He circled around the table to see her. His eyes widened in recognition.

"It's you..."