Stephanie sat in her study and wondered if this was fact or fiction. It was as if Jonathon was Arthur’s reincarnation. After service on Sunday, some of the choir members approached Stephanie and marvelled at the close resemblance between the two men. Everything about Jonathon seemed to be a replica of Arthur Wells.
Needless to say, Jonathon was a perfect fit. Listening to him sing, one would swear it was Arthur.
Weeks later, Jonathon met Molly who sang in the soprano section. It was love at first sight. They couldn’t get enough of one another and, within five months, they were engaged. But Molly’s family kept nagging her about this stranger. Who was he and where did he come from? When Molly confronted Jonathan, she was told nothing more than anyone else. She also made a promise that she would never pursue the subject again. She gladly consented, as she was madly in love with Jonathan, but her family were relentless in their pursuit of the truth.
It was a very harmonious relationship, although it surprised Molly that Jonathan insisted she be a chaste virgin especially in this day and age. But the romance continued to flourish, and the two were inseparable. Molly’s parents finally gave their approval. They had never seen Molly so happy. Within another two months, they were married. It was a quiet affair with the choir, the minister, and a few friends in attendance. At the reception, everyone waited with bated breath to hear what Jonathan would say. But as usual, he was the soul of discretion, always extremely warm but guarded. A band had been hired to play all the sixties music. Throughout the evening, Jonathan and Molly sang solos and duets together. You couldn’t imagine a happier couple. Here was a match made in heaven.
The entertainment continued until midnight, when the doting couple took their leave. They’d rented a hotel room near the airport and were to fly out in the morning to the Bahamas. When they left the reception, they were so happy even her parents were charmed by Jonathan and happy with Molly’s choice. No one could have imagined what lay in store.
The airport was about forty-five minutes’ drive from the reception. It was a beautiful summer’s night, in a storybook romance. They checked into their hotel room, which was a five-star-affair, and made their way up to their room. This was luxury at its most sublime. Jonathon had spared no expense for his new bride, and she was overwhelmed by his desire to please her. What a style in which to consummate their love! This would be a night she would never forget.
As they sat undressed on the side of the bed Jonathan asked, “Are you happy, my sweetheart?”
“I’m ecstatic. I love you very much Jonathan, I’ve never been this happy in my whole life.”
“Well, I feel the same way about you.”
“Jonathan, can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything you like.”
“Now that we’re married, can you divulge who you really are. And set my mind at rest?”
Jonathan walked to the centre of the room, his countenance completely changed.
“Molly, you swore you’d never ask that question again. Well, I’ll tell you, I’m a Knight of the Holy Grail, and I come back at sundry times to help humanity. And yes, I’m the reincarnation of Arthur Buchanan. But because you’ve broken your solemn promise, cursed are you of all maidens. You will die an old maid and take your chastity to your grave.”
There was a blinding flash, and the room was metamorphosed. Arthur now stood as an angelic being, replete with wings. He stared at Molly, then disappeared into the night. When Molly realized her love was gone forever, she threw herself on the bed and cried, “O, God, God, God, what have I done?”
She buried her face in the pillow and cried herself to sleep.
The next morning Molly rose, washed and dressed, went down to the front desk, ordered a taxi, and drove home. As the taxi pulled into the driveway, the front door opened and her mother and father stood paralyzed in confusion. The driver helped Molly into the house with her luggage. She pushed past her parents, climbed the stairs to her bedroom, and slammed the door shut. Then she flung herself onto the bed and continued to bawl her eyes out.
Epilogue.
The clouds for sorrow will not permit the Sun to shine.
For never was there a Love so well begun and now
So tragically ended.
Now are Sorrow and Tragedy made happy bedfellows.
