Samuel and Irena

by Maurice Humphrey

One sunny morning Samuel Oakwood stood on the brow of a hill overlooking the valley below, his wife Irena standing beside him. The earth beneath him smelled of musty leaves stirred by the breath of an early spring breeze.

“What bothers you so, my husband?” his wife’s soft voice asked.

“Just a fond memory,” he sighed, “almost like it was just yesterday.”

“To us it will always be just yesterday,” she answered in gentle understanding. “Um, tell me more,” she prodded.

“You should remember it well, my dear,” he laughed in return. “Wasn’t it you—” was all he got out before she wrapped her arms around him. He knew she felt the same way.

It was a day like this one, late in the spring when the trees leaf out. For Samuel Oakwood, returning to the place of his birth had become a dream of his from the day he went to live with his Uncle Morton. Life was hard on his uncle’s farm and, when he felt old enough, he escaped into the Army. And the Army sent him to Korea.

Korea wasn’t that bad until that one last patrol too close to the enemy lines. The shelling that killed his comrades left several pieces of shrapnel buried in his back. Inoperable, the medics told him; too close to vital organs. With a shiny new medal for his trouble, he was discharged and shipped home.

Samuel knew the diagnosis and how much time he had left. On the outside he looked normal, other than a slight limp. As long as he took his time, he might live another few years. He had considered several alternatives, but Samuel wasn’t the type to give up.

Somehow, he thought, I will beat this.

And, that was when he met Irena. It hadn’t been by chance on her part he discovered later, but by then it didn’t matter.

* * *

A few days after returning to his small home town, Samuel climbed the hill to visit his parents’ graves. Fifteen years had passed since their passing, but it felt like a lifetime. As he turned to leave, he saw someone watching him.

A young girl in a dress of green and gold stood just outside the cemetery fence near a large oak tree. Somewhere deep inside, a memory stirred. She looked so familiar: soft, curly brown hair and green eyes. Somehow those eyes captivated and held him.

“Hello there,” he whispered, fearing she might vanish if he spoke too loud.

She turned as though speaking to someone else.

No, he thought, as though arguing with someone else!

Gathering courage, Samuel called out to her, “Hi, my name is Samuel. What’s yours?” He crept closer, still afraid she might run away. Again she turned away.

Yes, he thought, she is arguing with someone. But I see no one else around.

Then, with a look of defiance, she stamped her foot and vanished into the forest. Puzzled, Samuel waited for her to reappear.

A cool breeze moved through the surrounding trees. He could hear the leaves rustling, almost like voices in the wind. Should he wait for her or head home?

Then he remembered: A cool breeze means rain this time of year. He took one more look around before walking back down the hill, promising himself he’d be back in the morning.

It’s so peaceful up here, he thought. Tomorrow I’ll bring a lunch and spend the day. But the storm settled in to stay a while. It was two days before the rain stopped, but still cloudy and cold. On the third day, the sunshine broke through the clouds, and the air turned warm and dry. He packed a lunch and headed up the hill.

It was noon by the time he spread a blanket on the ground by his parents’ grave. Samuel kept his expectations in check and looked around, hoping to catch sight of the brown-haired girl. I wonder what her name is.

In a low voice, Samuel talked to his mother while a warm breeze ruffled through the leaves. She had always been the one he could confide in. Not that his father didn’t care, but his point of view was so much different from hers. As different as they were, they loved each other and had been the best of parents to him.

“Do you always talk to yourself like that?” a sweet and musical voice whispered in his ear.

Samuel would have jumped to his feet and run off, but he physically couldn’t. Running or jumping would only hasten his already shortened lifespan. He turned and stared into a cloud of soft, curly brown hair and those eyes...

“What’s your name?” he asked. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

“You ask a lot of questions,” she replied with a grin that lifted his spirits. “Maybe someday I’ll tell you all about it.”

“But that implies—”

“Yes, I know what that implies,” as she kissed him on the cheek. “Wait here; I’ll only be a minute.” Before he could say a word, she vanished into the trees.

I wonder if she’s a dryad, he thought. They’re supposed to be one with the trees. Maybe she can turn me into a tree Then he laughed. His stomach growled, and he remembered the lunch he’d brought. And then again, he thought, maybe she’s just crazy.

“Did you miss me?” she asked, reappearing as quickly as she’d left. “And no, I’m not crazy.” Her smile was dazzling.

Samuel stared at her. It’s almost as if I already know her, he thought. “Where did you go?”

“Mom wanted to talk with me.”

“Let me guess, she doesn’t approve of me dating her daughter,” he laughed.

“Oh no,” she replied with a smile, “quite the opposite.” Her impish smile unsettled Samuel just a little. “Mom has always liked you.”

Samuel just sat there, sandwich in hand, feeling foolish. “Your mom has always liked me?”

“Yup, but my dad isn’t so sure.”

I don’t even know this girl and her mother approves. “Sandwich?” he asked.

“Sure. You have any pickles?”

* * *

Over the next several weeks, she brought joy and happiness into his life. More happiness than he expected in the short time he had left. Spending time with her brought new hope to him.

One day, while they were sitting together in the sun and enjoying a picnic lunch, he worked up the courage to tell her he only had a few weeks left.

“That’s all right,” she told him, “I already know.” As she explained how her parents could help him. It would involve a small family ceremony and a wedding.

“Then we will always be together.” She smiled back at him. The smile was short-lived, “You don’t remember me, do you?”

“I feel like I know you,” he stammered, “but I don’t remember from where.” She sat beside him and told him how they first met, back when he was in seventh grade.

She had been watching the kids on the playground when Ned, the school bully, spied her. Irena was quick, but he cornered her before she could get into the woods. Ned was about to grab her when Samuel intervened. Samuel was thirteen at the time and Ned was fifteen.

Irena escaped but Samuel ended up being beaten. When the teacher caught the boys. neither one would say what they were fighting about.

Samuel walked home that afternoon wondering who the strange girl was and why Ned was so angry with her. What he didn’t see was Irena watching him. It would be several days before they would meet again.

On the last day of school, Samuel headed up the hill near the cemetery. He would often come here when he felt lost and alone. The little clearing felt private, and the sound of the brook was soothing. He sat on the bank, lost in thought.

“You look sad,” she said from the bushes.

Samuel was so startled that he spun around to see who had spoken. “Who are you?” he asked. “Show yourself.”

She peeked out from the bushes. “You won’t hurt me?” She replied with a quiver in her voice.

“Why, you’re only a kid!” Samuel said when he first saw her. “Wait a minute, you’re that girl, the one in the woods?”

Irena nodded. “But I’m a lot older than I look.” She stepped out from the bushes. She was wearing a green and gold dress and stood as tall as Samuel, but thinner. Her curly brown hair was only a shade darker than her skin but, those green eyes were captivating.

Samuel could see that now. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No, not really,” she replied.

“You’re pretty,” Samuel said. Irena tensed, ready to run.

“I won’t hurt you,” he told her, sitting on the grass by the water. “Would you sit and talk with me for a while?”

She was still a little unsure when she sat down across the brook from him. While they were talking, the rest of the afternoon flew by. The sun was setting when Samuel realized he should have been home hours ago.

“Can I see you again?” he asked. “I can come back here tomorrow? Will you be here?”

“I might,” Irena replied with a smile.

* * *

Throughout the summer months, they would meet by the brook several times each week. Before long, they were sitting together while Samuel pretended to fish.

Then tragedy struck one rainy night in September, only a week before the start of school. Samuel and his parents were driving home from a trip to the city. It was late, and he was asleep on the back seat when a truck slammed into their car. The force of the impact threw Samuel to the floor unconscious while his parents died on impact.

Somehow, Irena found them first. Her mother was with her, and they pulled the unconscious Samuel from the wreck. Irena cradled his limp body against her and cried. They stayed with him all night before hiding in the trees when help arrived in the morning. Against her mother’s coaxing, Irena watched until the ambulance took Samuel away.

“I came to the brook every day after that and waited for you.” Samuel could feel the anguish in her voice. “But you never came back.”

He held her close until she stopped crying. “I was in the hospital for several days until my uncle came for me,” Samuel recalled, searching his memory.

“As soon as I could travel, he took me to his farm.” Samuel wiped away her tears. “He brought me back for the funeral and then took me away again.”

“And you forgot about me?”

“I remember little from back then,” Samuel told her. “The doctor said I had amnesia.” He hugged her close, “When I first saw you at the cemetery, I thought I knew you from somewhere. Now I know what all those dreams were about.”

“What dreams?” She asked with a dreamy look.

“Well,” he replied leaning back on his elbows, “about a month ago, after I returned from Korea, I had these dreams. All I remember is a young girl with curly brown hair and green eyes.”

“Did she look like me?”

They had a good laugh and talked for another hour.

After they finished eating, Samuel met her parents and her father gave his approval. They planned their wedding for the following week, as Samuel had personal arrangements to make.

The formal ceremony was lengthy, with all of her family gathered around them. “And I guess my parents are here, too,” Samuel said as the sun set in the west.

“I’m sure they approve,” Irena replied as she wrapped her arms around his slender waist.

“I know they do.” Samuel was the happiest he’d been in years.

* * *

Less than a week after their wedding, Samuel watched from the brow of that same hill overlooking the same valley. It was early morning and only a few chimneys showed lazy tendrils of smoke rising into the still morning air.

“Good morning, my husband,” Irena’s musical voice spoke from beside him. “Is this the day?”

“Um, I believe so,” he replied. “But, I don’t think many will come.”

“But you will always have me here with you,” she reassured him.

“I know my dear, but—”

“Shh.” She reached over and hugged him.

When the sun rose, they could see people moving around in the little town down below. Several vehicles drove in from outlying towns and farms. Before long, the church bell tolled.

“You’ve lived here longer than I have,” he asked. “What happens next?”

“Nothing more than you saw when your parents died,” she reminded him.

“I don’t remember seeing you there.”

“Oh, but I was. Several rows behind you.” She giggled, “I snuck in.”

“And how old were you back then?”

“I’ll never tell, but not much older than you were.”

“And how long have you been waiting for me?” he had to ask.

“As long as it took,” she replied, seeming a little miffed at him for bringing up her age. “I knew you would return, and now I’ll always be the same age as you are.”

Irena was back to her usual self, playful, beautiful, and mysterious. He knew if he kept after her he would learn it all.

And, he thought, she promised to tell me everything.

“I think it’s time,” she said sitting on the ground in front of him.

They watched in silence as the funeral procession climbed the winding dirt road to the cemetery. Samuel hadn’t been to a funeral since his parents died. His family’s plot was close to where he and Irena were watching from.

Several vehicles followed along behind the hearse as it passed through the cemetery gates and down the rows toward the open grave, the excavated dirt covered with a tarp and the lowering device already in place. Two rows of folding chairs were on the side near the tree line.

“Are you sad, my husband?” Irena asked.

“Very, my dear, very sad,” his voice bordering on tears as the crowd gathered. So many had come. Several people stood in rows behind the already full chairs. Even his Army buddies had come.

* * *

It was a cold fall day. Samuel Oakwood stood on the brow of the hill overlooking the valley below, his heart full of sadness, the ground covered in damp wet leaves. It felt cold. Before long, snow would be falling. Many years have passed since the funeral, but the memory still lingered.

“Why are you sad, my husband?” Irena asked.

“I am saddened by what I see before me,” he replied.

The once well-kept hedgerow bordering the cemetery had grown into an impenetrable thicket of green and brown arborvitae. The sign that once graced the entrance had rotted and fallen away. Even the dirt road was now unused and abandoned, no longer even passable.

“And I no longer recognize the town below,” he lamented.

A series of fires had razed the once quiet little town. It felt empty and abandoned.

“But, my husband, our family is all around us.” She cuddled closer to him. “And we are happy.”

“Yes, my dear,” he sighed, “we are very happy.” He spread his limbs toward the rising sun. For the last 250 years, Samuel Oakwood has stood on the brow of their hill, the tall oak tree with his dryad Irena.