1. Truly, Madly, Deeply
Prologue:
"Parker? Parker, isn’t it?" He lift his head up from the canvas sketch pad to find the owner of the
unfamiliar voice. At first, he had disregarded it as the heavy soughs of the wind singing through the
woody trail leading to the cliff top. This had always been his spot. Untouched by prying human eyes, this
cliff top had always been a concealed retreat for Parker. He couldn’t identify the face looking down on
himsince hisvisionwasgreatlycompromisedbythe sunlightobstructinghisview.
"Sorry?" He answered flinching and fashioning a canopy over his eyes with his hands. The person drew
closer without hesitation. This graduated his discomfort knowing that this person, who hasn'tin the past
20 seconds bothered to reveal his/her identity, is at ease with completely disregarding the general
bi-rule of "personal space".
"You know my brother don’t you? I think you're friends with him. I've seen you come by the house
sometimes."Smilingshe placedherself nexttohimonthe hard edge.
Cue awkward long silence. He was still unable to recognize this girl. Was she expecting him to answer
her? Even if he was in fact a friend of her brother's, which was highly unlikely considering he didn't visit
his friends at their homes, then she would have heard from said brother that Parker Hayes was not very
approachable neither a man of many words. He could now clearly see her, a frail perhaps 15? 16? Year
old figure with an incredibly plain face. The word incredible given emphasis. She had the face an artist
would long to draw, paint or sculpt. To him, every feature on that face seemed anatomically
proportioned.Herbrownhaircomplementedherequallydeepbrowneyes.
After waiting through a considerable long pause she said "You don’t talk much do you? Oh well. I'm
sorry to bother you. I'm in a habit of seeking out loners incase they're like terminally depressed or
whatever but I guess you're comfortable sitting by yourself all the way up here seeming mysterious and
whatnot..." She let her sentence linger in the space between them, not holding his gaze and fidgeting
with twigs nearby. Finally, realizing this man is unlikely to make conversation she stood brushing her
clothes.
"How oldare you?" he askedsurprisingher.
"Eighteen. Well I’m going to turn nineteen in a month and I’ll be off to college soon so I’m not that
young.Justsaying."She answeredwithabrightsmile satisfiedhereffortsbore fruit.
"You do look'that young'."He saidslightlyamused.
"Well I am not. You could try me. Talk to me and you'll know for yourself. Why are you here alone
anyway? Your canvas is blank so I don’t think you're here for artistic reasons or maybe the beauty of this
place isn'tinspiringenough?"She askeddonninghermostconfidentlook.
"Are you curiousor concerned?"He askedsettinghistoolsaside.

2. "Both. Curiosity made me watch you for a good ten minutes. Concern made me walk up to you seeing
that you had a paper and pencil, I assumed it might be a suicide note so the polite thing to do would be
at least talk a suicidal man out of his thoughts, if not, then I would've taken your letter to the person
intendedto."
"Polite is it?" He let out a laugh. The girl was an innocent either that or she wasn't very bright to
approach a relative stranger in the middle of nowhere. "Don’t worry. I am not here to suicide. You can
washthat concernoff your face,little person."
"Little person? How forgetful of me, you don’t know my name yet. I'm Abigail. I am Nathan's youngest
sister." She said extending her hand. He looked at her for a few seconds before meeting the gesture. His
prior irritation at being intruded had surprisingly disappeared. He knew Nathan well and upon hearing
her name he recalled Nathan referring to his youngest sister as "The Shrink". There was a certain
calmness descending upon him. He wasn’t sure whether it was due to the uncharacteristic coolness of
the air softening the summer heat or the strangely pleasant company he had encountered. She was
gazing at the lake below them as if entranced by the emerald tones of the serene still water. Slowly and
quite intentionally, Abigail tickled stones nestled in the thin fractures of the cliff side with the back of
her foot. The stones, pried from the grooves, plunged in to a free fall covering the distance to the lake.
The perfectemeraldsurface nowbroke intoswollenripplesbringingapeculiarsmile onthe girlsface.
“My mother used to say the answer to all of life’s troubles is to have faith. Do you think so? I keep asking
myself- Faith in what though? In God? In myself? ” The expression in her tone didn’t make the sentence
feel like a question but more of self-wondering. He was unsure if he should answer or if he waseven the
rightpersonto answer.
“It’s nice out here. I found this place a few weeks ago when my friends decided we need to go for a
swim. Funny thing is I don’t even know how but I still tagged along for fun you know. It was alright. They
splashed around half the day while I sat right there –“she pointed at a spot in the distance “-they didn’t
even notice me gone. I wandered off looking for nothing in specific. Do you ever do that? Wonder if
anyone will notice you missing if you’re not there?” this time it was a question. Parker kept his eyes
locked at the place Abigail had pointed to earlier. He didn’t have an answer. He had wondered the same
enoughtimestohave lostcountof it.
“I don’tthinkyoushouldworryaboutthat.” He said
“Why not?”Her browsfurrowedat hisreply.
“It’s hard for someone as talkative as you to go unnoticed. The silence must be deafening in your
absence. “He chuckled. Her mouth hung open in disbelief of his comment but the soft laughter in his
voice broke her solemn composure. She relaxed her shoulders, exhaled and enjoyed the momenteven if
it wasat the expenseof beingteased.
“My motherusedtosay –“
“Do you follow everything your mother ‘used to say’” He interrupted rather crudely “So far it seems

3. you’re a mommy’s pet. You can’t always live by what your parents say or have said to you. I’ll tell you
what little person, think on your own. Don’t parrot the words your parents choked down your throat. It
won’t get you too far in life. Life isn’t sunshine and butterflies all the time. Trust me. I know.” He
finished almost spitting the words out with vicious urgency. Abigail sat unmoving with cool resilience.
There was silence between them once again but this time it was an aching swell which hung heavyin the
air. Slowly she touched her hand to his. The anger that had enveloped Parker dissipated with that single
touch. By now Abigail had thoroughly confused Parker with such unprecedented kindness. He shuffled a
little not knowing what to say next. He couldn’t figure out why she chose to sit and speak to a person
whohas shownno interestinhertalksandyetcontinuestorespondwithgentleness.
“Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak. Courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.”
She saidshiftingthe focusawayfromthe entire ordeal.
“-Winston Churchill.” She continued “I think that’s the solution to life’s troubles. Courage. People either
have the courage to speak or listen, it’s always either/or. Bon Courage! My literature teacher uses that
expression a lot as means of saying ‘Good luck!’ before an exam although I think the more apt
translationwouldbe “have courage”.”She letitendthere.
“Bon Courage…”He repeatedtastingandfeelingthe words.
The sun had risen to its peak spilling golden wherever it reached. The wind had stopped blowing and the
heatmade sweattrickle downthe lengthof theirspines.
“I thinkI shouldleave nowandsoshould you.”He saidgatheringhisthings.
“Come to the edge, He said.
They said: We are afraid.
Come to the edge, He said.
They came. He pushed them,
And they flew . . ." Her chin was resting on her knees as she muttered in a low volume.
“Excuse me?” He asked searching her face to understand.
“-Guillaume Apollinaire. You don’t read much do you?” She said shrugging off any answer he might
have sent her way. She stood in one swift motion taking harried steps away from the edge, from
him. Once again Parker was perplexed by the sudden reaction and stared at her parting figure
growing distant with each long step she took. She came to an abrupt stop turning around looking
somewhere past him. He tried to decipher her intention through body language and expression but
could not predict her next move. And he certainly was not expecting what came next.
Abigail broke in to a run towards him while Parker sat dumbfounded at the sight of her figure
lunging off the cliff. For Parker time stood still in that flashing second. This moment would be
etched to his memory. In the many years to follow he would occasionally glimpse in to his memory
to revive Abigail in this form. He would remember the unrestrained smile fastened on her face, the
freedom in the free fall of her body, the way she held her arms out as if she was flying. To Parker

4. Abigail belonged in this moment. She belonged to the wind that carried her with it & the lake that
embraced her in an exuberant welcome. The loud splashing sound of her body thrusting into the
density of the lake broke him out of the trance. Suddenly realising Abigail could not swim, Parker
kicked off his shoes and dove after her.
The water smacked hard on his face diving from a high altitude distorting the receptivity to
acquaint to the weight of his own body. His natural reflexes guided him to lash his arms and legs in
fish like movements. Emerging from the surface of the water he instantly searched around for
Abigail. His gaze rested on a wet head top sinking in. Parker swam across covering the distance in
rapid lengths. Finally he closed his arms around Abigail’s torso, pulling her above the water and
moving in the direction of the bank. She was spurting water from her mouth, still conscious. He
rested flat on the bank of the lake, panting and concentrating on Abigail’s breathing.
“What in God’s name were you thinking?” He shot at her. Abigail erupted into hysterical laughter,
coughing water at intervals, trying to compose herself.
“I fail to see the humour in this. Next time find someone else to save you if you’re set on getting
yourself killed!” Parker was furious at her but Abigail continued to laugh.
“She was right after all…” she managed to say.
“Who? What?” said a bewilderedParker.
“My mother. She was right. I had faith you would have courage” Turning her head towards Parker,
she smiled with a warm glow. They were lying side by side on the bank catching their breaths and
staring at the sky.
“Life’s not all that dreadful you know.” He nodded in response. She looked straight at him, her
eyes genuinely alight with the life she spoke of. He wondered what she was thinking, probably
searching for the next weirdly wonderful thing to say trying to break the silence once again. Parker, on
the otherhand foundthe silence promising. Itmeantthere wouldbe more totalkabout.