Out there by the river you could see fat squirrels as they fussed at you from the trees. Weeds were hollow skeletons that rattled with each chill wind. And old oaks swayed as if waltzing with each other. Reflections in the water sparkled off clouds, brassy in sunshine. Afternoon light illuminated initials carved into an ancient oak trunk. “Endless Love” was carved roughly below those initials.
The next summer, on a whim, I packed a lunch and went out there to swim in the cool water. Saw where armadillos had been rooting out grubs and earthworms. Fresh spring water flowed out into the river from limestone caverns and crevasses. Flowering vines clung to the rocky embankment. I swam around to a large cave and into shadows. Water was cold and clear here, and you could see the sandy bottom. I found a good sized boulder to sit on. Small fish made patterns in the drift of the spring waters, leaping sometimes before joining swift river currents.
As I watched, there was a glimmer of something down below among the pebbles and minnows. I gingerly stepped down into the frigid stream and felt around with my toes. Scooped up the object and saw that it was a gold chain with a round pendant attached to it. It had all kinds of gunk stuck in it and was crusty in places. The clasp was broken, but not the chain. Later, at home. I cleaned it up with some jewelry cleaner. It was inscribed “Endless Love” and those same initials I had seen on the oak tree. I put it up carefully as curiosity overtook my mind. Made a mental note to ask around the area whose initials those were.
By the next winter, I still hadn’t found out anything behind the carving and the necklace and kind of forgot about it.
One cold, bright day I decided to go out to the river and take some photographs with my new camera. It was so clear - not but a few wispy clouds in the deep blue sky. Went down there by the oak tree to take a picture of the mysterious carving and got a great photograph of it. Thought maybe I’d send it to the newspaper. Perhaps someone would recognize the initials and contact me. It was a good plan, but it turned out I didn’t need to follow through with it.
A young man downstream caught my attention. He sat real still, holding a cane pole. He had on a raggedy hat and wore overalls. A small black dog sat next to him, dozing in the sun. I waved and he waved back, so I walked over and introduced myself. “Can I take a photograph of you? You look so peaceful out here on the riverbank.” I asked. He agreed and I took several shots of him from different angles.
As I was leaving, on an impulse, I asked him if he knew anything about the carving on the tree. “Sure!” he replied, almost bowling me over in surprise. He told me that those were the initials of his grandparents. “Did you notice the old bridge just upriver from us?” he inquired.
“Yes. It didn’t look too sturdy and part of the railing was busted out,” I replied.
“That’s where my grandparents went over!” he explained. “See, Grandaddy had just bought a new truck, and they went out riding to celebrate. It started storming, so they were headed back home. Guess they were going too fast, hit a puddle of water, and hydroplaned right off that bridge!”
“Oh no! Were they killed?” I questioned. “Nope. They were both good swimmers, but the new truck was ruined," he answered. “Grandaddy figured the Lord meant for them to go on living their lives together, so he went and carved their initials at the exact spot they climbed up out of the river.”
“What a story!” I commented. Then, I remembered the necklace. “Are they still alive?” I pressed.
“Yes. They live right down that road in a white house with green trim. They’re old and feeble, but just as much in love as they were back then.” He grinned.
A few days later, I found their house. Knocked on the door, excitement building. An old, bent over woman answered the door. She was bone skinny with bright green eyes and a friendly smile. “I think I have something of yours,” I said after introducing myself.
We went into the kitchen and joined her husband, who was just finishing up some dishes. “Anniversary dinner!” he explained.
I pulled the golden necklace from my pocket and placed it in her hand. Her face lit up immediately. “I haven’t seen that since the night we drove off the bridge!” she exclaimed. Her joy was contagious and we were all laughing at the strange circumstances that had brought us together. And later, as I drove away, I thought about their passion. This was, indeed, one more chapter in an endless love story.
