Broken Cisterns, Pt. 3

After lunch I slowly walked home. It had been a nice meal at a small restaurant, and the conversation had been friendly. The entire time, I could not help but think of the envelope in my pocket. The cliché was true: it became heavier the longer I held it.

As I sat in front of the flames in my fireplace—created this warm spring day only for the purpose of burning the letter—I slowly and carefully opened the envelope. I had not decided yet whether to read it or not, but it seemed then as if I ought to. I would destroy the letter, for Jonny’s sake, but how could I let it go without being read?

Inside the envelope was one sheet of paper, folded into thirds, with writing on one side. I unfolded the paper to read the text. The words, formed in black pen ink, were written in a compact yet looping hand.
It read:

Jonny,
How are you? I am well, and sorry that I have not written back to you sooner. But it was not because I didn’t want to. In fact, I just got your letter today, even though you sent it over a month ago. So I am writing back as soon as possible.
I think I am not ready to answer some of the questions you asked me in your letter, but I will keep them in mind, my friend.
In the meantime, I am thinking of other things for us to discuss. My sister is here with me right now (she says ‘hi’) and she reminded me of how you used to talk about starting a school some day. I know you never talked with me about it very much, but I still think that would be a great idea! I don’t know how we would ever do it, but why not try, right? I would be glad to help you start it and run it, if we ever got that far. I guess this sounds a bit crazy, but it is such a neat idea! I really think it would work.
What else to talk about? I am reading my bible more these days. I don’t know what I should read, though. You always seem to have a good recommendation. I read the first chapter of Jeremiah earlier, but stopped when I got to chapter two. It was interesting, but kind of boring too. So what do you think I should read next?
Well, I cannot think of anything else to write at the moment, Jonny, so I will keep this letter short. (Easier for you to write back to sooner.) My sister says hello again and to be safe. So be blessed, and I hope to hear from you soon!

Your Friend,
Eliana

I read the letter a second time. I’m pretty sure I laughed out loud at the irony of it all, and then carefully threw the paper and envelope into the fire. As the yellow-orange flames quickly combusted the paper into water and carbon, I tried to forget about what it had said. My mind refused to forget though, because Jonny would never know what he had missed. That is, unless this Eliana randomly tried to contact him some day. But knowing how path leads to path in life, I doubted the road should ever return this way. As I stared at the fire which was warming the room to an intolerable temperature, I could not determine if the situation called for weeping or further laughter, so I did neither. I sat like this for some time, and then there was a knock on the front door.

I stood up and walked to the window. I peeked around the pale brown curtains and saw Kerah standing there, so I opened the door.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hello,” I answered. “Please, come in.” Kerah, arms crossed loosely over her stomach, took a few steps inside as I held the door open. “What brings you here?”

She had no prelude, no preamble, and no excuse. “Did you read the letter?” she asked quietly, looking me in the eyes.

I considered denying knowledge of a letter, but figured there was no good in that.
“Yes, a little while ago.”

“What did it say?”

“Nothing.”

Kerah nodded her head and looked away. She had a sad look in her eyes when she turned back to ask, “Do you still have it?”

“I burned it,” I said, pointing vaguely toward the fire.

She nodded again and stared at the door, which I still held open for some reason. I asked, “How did you know I had this letter?”

She hesitated, but said, “I’ve known Jonny had this letter tucked in his bible for several months. At first, I was slightly upset that he kept it there. But I realized that he was not going to open it, and almost began to feel sorry for him. He has talked about this girl and is sad not to know her anymore. He would deny being sad, for my sake, but he misses her.”

“He loves you,” I said out of obligation.

“I know,” she said, relief suddenly flooding her face. “And I resisted for these several months to open the letter when he wasn't looking. But he also resisted opening it, though I don’t know why.”

“I don’t know why either.”

“What did it say?”

“Nothing.”

She nodded once again and said, “I should go now, before Jonny suspects something.”

She laughed, and I laughed too. She walked out the door into the warm spring evening. We waved goodbye to each other and I closed the door.

I went back to my place in front of the fire. The letter was completely consumed and I tried not to imagine all the trouble it could have caused, had it been read by either Jonny or Kerah. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder how things would be if they had. Sometimes answers are exactly where we don’t want to look for them. Maybe that’s why the water seems to keep on falling, from our broken cisterns and from our eyes.


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