Lost Loves

Duke Mansfield of the Dorchester Province was to wed Lady Camille St. James of Hemingway this afternoon of the second of August in the year one thousand two hundred and five of our Lord?

?Disaster struck Lady Camille; she was shot by an unknown man in blue, who claimed he worked for the Warlock James duBois of Burgundy, who was known to do such things. But everyone thought this man worked for the Duke, who was too kind a man to such a thing.

It was believed that the man the Duke supposed to have sent was to kill Lady Camille, due to the Duke?s jealously for the friendship of his Beloved to the Warlock; as she took flute lesson from him. The Duke was caught and sentenced to death by hanging; unfortunately shortly thereafter, Mansfield killed himself?

?In his last moments of his life, Mansfield confided to the church he didn?t kill Lady Camille. He couldn?t understand why this was happening, if duBois didn?t kill Camille then why was he to suffer. He couldn?t have killed her, it was just once that he had ever raised his vice to her, but her couldn?t kill her, he couldn?t even hit her?

??I remember walking in the garden with her, on the last day I saw her alive. The sky was light blue, and the air was filled with rose and suede. She looked up at me, her smile lit up her face?She was telling me about her flute lessons, and I?I couldn?t?I didn?t realize how jealous I was about duBois and Camille, but then I?I yelled at her?I yelled at her to shut up?she cringed?(sighed)?I remember the taste of her lips as I apologized, like the summer evening?it was that exact moment that I am forever remembering, as we were?but it?s slipping, the memories?I thought the lesson would do her good, duBois seemed alright, but there was something?I don?t know??

It was a hot sticky day in late summer. My birthday!!! I was wandering around the local amusement park, if you call a forty-five minute drive local, that is, well, I was walking around it with my best friend Ursula. It was the hottest day that anyone could recall, and the lamest way I could think of to celebrate a birthday, but it was my birthday. Besides that, but my life had been very dull in the last couple of months, so, this was the break I supposedly needed, as Ursula said time and again.

We had been enjoying the niceties of the park: cotton candy, balloons, and stuffed animals, when a clown with bright pink hair raced up to me in his little red car, that probably held more than one clown. He smiled and honked the horn and suddenly stopped. Leaning precariously out of the window handed me a flower.

He grinned; his face lit up like a rainbow, turned, and walked off. I glanced at clown then the flower, a lavender rose, like the kind my father used to grow in the rose garden at home. I thought that had been the only plant of it?s kind, well, I guess I was wrong. It was wrapped carefully in silver paper, that crinkle as it moved. There was a card attached.

I felt eyes watching me as I open the card; it read, ?To my lost treasure. Follow your Heart?s desire. Love always, M?

?What the?? Who?? I stumbled over the words. ?No one was stupid enough or nice enough to do that for me.? It must be for someone else, the clown must?ve made a mistake, maybe it was for Ursula??

?I guess you have a secret admirer, Liz,? Ursula giggled.

I guess I had said that out loud, because the smirk on her face dissolved. ?So?well?what am I going to do?? I asked Ursula.

?Well?? and she stopped, clearly turning a pale red, but continued, ?why don?t you follow it. It could be fun,? her face looked hurt, I felt bad, but there really was nothing to say.

The first clue: ?A wooden scare, a thrill for all times.?

?The Reptile?? Ursula asked.

?Well, it is made of wood.?

?And it can be scary,? Ursula added, more in the mood.

We headed towards the roller coaster and as we approached there came a giant pussycat walking towards us. He looked like Tom from ?Tom and Jerry,? but this one was black. As he neared us, he held up a small box, dropped it in my hands and with a flick of his tail was off again.

Inside I found a watch with a band made of suede and another note. ?The sweetest gift is that of a flower.?

?The arbouretum?? I asked.

?I think so,? replied Ursula quizzically. ?Let?s go!?

On the other side of the park was a small area built, that housed a dozen of kinds of flowers, for the enjoyment of the park-goers. The smells were so abundant that you could get knocked over by it

Sitting in front of a large rose bush was a mime, waiting patiently. Once he saw us, or actually me, he jumped up and ran over, faces full of smiles. He handed me another little box, shook my hand, danced a little jig, and sprinted off towards the merry-go-round. There in the box was a golden ring of ivy leaves and yet another note. ?I ride on Camille.?

?What? What does this mean?? and I handed the note to Ursula.

?I ride?on Camille?hmmmm. Wait! The merry-go-round, I ride. I Ride! That?s it!?

?Come on,? shouted, running towards the round.

There wasn?t anyone there, except for the attendant, so we got into line. And a few minutes, I noticed no one lining up to ride, which was odd. Wasn?t there always children wanting to ride the round, so, why wasn?t there a line of jumping, over-hyperactive children. ?You can get on,? said the attendant.

So, we stepped onto the round?s base, and felt it lighter. I didn?t know where to begin, until Ursula pointed to the name on the saddles, ?Look for a Camille, Liz.?

As I strolled round the round?s walkways, Ursula shouted. Over on the other side she had found Camille. The horse was the most beautiful I had ever seen on a round. She had a golden mane and tail with roses embedded in the mane and tail. Beautiful green and blue jewels bedecked her body, and her saddle was made of pure suede. I was taken aback by this, but it seemed familiar somehow.

?Hello?? a voice called softly. I looked up; there in front of me was Martin Williamson, an old classmate, from a long time ago. ?Liz??

Marty? What are you doing here??

?You mean you don?t know. You haven?t figured it out yet??

?No?What do you mean?? I stuttered.

Martin held out a bouquet of wildflowers. ?Do you remember these? There?s a trick though?? but as I wasn?t talking, Marty started anyway. ?Once a long time ago,? I looked at him, ?No, ? he stopped to think, ?Back about one thousand two hundred and five of our Lord,? his voice slowed as he spilled out the year, ?The Duke Mansfield and Lady Camille were supposed to wed, ? he stopped again. ?They never did, do to a tragedy.

?I would tell it now, but it?s too long to tell out here, in the centre of any amusement park. Well, I?m the surviving male relative to Duke Mansfield, and I?ve been waiting a long time to find you Camille.? He smiled as I remembered the day in the garden. Love never dies.? I fell into Marty?s arms, the safest place to be; no one would have me here.

Love defies all boundaries!

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Sentimental to the end, I wrote this one in one afternoon, though it ultimately took me a lot longer to really get the story to become what it is now.

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PAGE CREATED: June 22, 2000
LAST UPDATED: June 22, 2000

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