Hello all. My name is Lucy and please forgive any errors on my part. I’m 84 years old and this is new to me. I’m not completely past it though, I’m on the facebook and I can do emails. My granddaughter, Violet, set this up for me because she said I have to tell my story.
My partner of over 50 years, David, recently passed away rest his soul. He was a wonderful human. Violet has been spending a lot of time with me, bless her. She asked me about my life before I met her grandpa, who I never married, and I told her what I’m about to tell you.
Please keep in mind that this was 1955. Though a lot of the details are with me like they happened yesterday, exact conversations from over 60 years ago are difficult to remember as you can imagine. I will do my very best to keep it as accurate as possible, though please take the verbal exchanges with a pinch of salt.
I was 18 years old and riding passenger side in my beau’s cherry-red convertible. You probably won’t believe me, but his name was James Dean! Honestly! No, he wasn’t the James Dean, but just as handsome. The wind was in my hair. Back then it was raven black, now it’s snow white. That’s life. We were far away from our small town, I couldn’t recall ever driving that way before.
“Where are we going, JD?” I asked, unfamiliar with my surroundings. We had been driving for a while by that point. I loved the way he drove so recklessly. There was a hint of danger in him which drove me wild. My parents disapproved of him and that made me want him more! That’s youth for you, I guess.
He grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips, planting a kiss. His emerald green eyes looked away from the road to look into my baby blues. His slicked back dirty blonde hair barely moved from excess pomade, it’s how the boys wore it back then.
“There’s a rad spot perfect for my baby girl.”
I giggled and screamed as he accelerated, hurtling around a sharp bend, rubber screeching on the asphalt. I smiled breathlessly as I gazed over my sweetheart, filled with love and adrenaline.
We drove down a long narrow road lined with trees on either side. It was speckled with shades of autumn, fallen leaves danced around us in a vortex as the car flew past.
JD began to slow down as a small layby came into view. He pulled over and turned off the engine.
“We’re here, baby girl,” he said, gently kissing my cheek. I felt my skin flush and tingle. “Just a little bit of a walk that way, but it’s worth it.” He pointed through the trees to a field.
“Oh, gosh,” I said. “I hope my heels can cope.” I hadn’t anticipated a walk in a field when I picked my outfit that morning. He ran his fingers through my hair.
“I’ll carry you if you get stuck, baby.”
I smiled and placed a hand on his freshly shaven face. His eyes sparkled as small beams of sunlight penetrated the tree tops.
“You’re the bestest,” I said, gently pressing my nose against his. I remember there was a subtle hint of citrus on his skin, he always smelt so good.
He jumped out of the car, literally, and opened the trunk. I picked up my small handbag and applied a shade of Merlot to my lips. Then I dabbed two spots of honey-floral perfume to my neck, the perfect compliment to JD’s citrus scent. I neatened my windswept hair and put on a pair of white satin gloves.
JD appeared at the passenger side with a picnic basket hooked around his arm, he used his free hand to open the door. I spun around and took his hand, using it to pull myself up.
“A perfect gentleman,” I said, readjusting my light blue polkadot dress. It was a mildly warm day with just a hint of October chill. I reached into the backseat of the convertible and grabbed my yellow cardigan, draping it over my shoulders.
“You look beautiful,” he said, stealing a kiss. I blushed. “Come on, this way.”
He took me by the hand and led me to the grass field, there was no footpath of any kind.
“How far is it?” I asked.
“Maybe 10, 15 minutes at the most.”
My heels sunk into the soft ground making it difficult to walk.
“In that case…”
I stopped and took off my black heeled shoes, hooking them over my fingers. The grass felt cool as it caressed my feet.
“Better,” I smiled, continuing across the field with JD leading the way. “How do you know about this place?”
“We used to come here when we were kids. Mom and dad would drink wine as me and my brother played in the stream.”
“There’s a stream?” I asked excitedly. It sounded so romantic.
JD smiled. “Darn it, I ruined the surprise! No more questions.”
We walked a little further until we came to a thicket of trees.
“It’s just through here. Watch your step, baby.”
I stepped over fallen twigs as we entered the trees, the sunlight temporarily shut out. There was a faint sound of running water. As we emerged from the other side I took a deep breath.
It was a beautiful meadow. Wild crocuses grew amongst daisies, with a gentle stream flowing a few feet away. On the other side of the stream some sheep were grazing. I put a hand on my chest in awe.
“Gee-whiz. It’s beautiful.”
“Told you it was rad,” he said with a knowing smile.
We walked to the bank of the stream. JD put the basket down and opened it, taking out a blanket and laying it down. He invited me to sit down as he took out some plates followed by bread, cheese, olives, strawberries, and a bottle of red. There were two wine glasses wrapped up in cloth.
We ate, drank, and talked about trivial things. I laid back and rested my head on JD’s thigh, gazing into the bright October sky. He gently stroked my hair as we spent a silent moment together. Then he gently tapped my shoulder.
“Sit up a moment, baby.”
I turned to face him. He reached into the pocket of his black bomber jacket and pulled out a small box. My eyes widened with pleasant surprise, my hands covering my mouth before the question had even been asked.
“Lucy Jane Collins, will you marry me?”
He opened the box to reveal a white gold ring with a square cut diamond. My eyes filled with tears.
“Please say yes, you’d make me a very happy man.”
I nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes, yes my darling. A thousand times yes!”
He beamed, taking the ring from the cushioned holder as I excitedly removed the glove from my left hand. He placed it on my ring finger. It fit perfectly.
I held out my hand and spread my fingers, the diamond glinting as it caught the sun. It looked so right, like it had been missing all along. I threw my arms around JD and we embraced each other, kissing passionately.
When I was telling my granddaughter I skipped a few details, but that’s the moment we gave ourselves to each other for the first time. It was my first time with anybody, I was so nervous. But he was gentle and tender, that’s all I’ll say about that.
As we made ourselves presentable again I couldn’t take my eyes off the ring. I noticed some dark crimson colored residue around the bottom of my finger under the ring, it looked like rust.
“That’s strange,” I said, brushing it away. “I hope you didn’t find this in the junkyard?” I laughed teasingly.
JD stared into my eyes with a smile.
“Of course not, baby. Though I do need to confess, you’re not the first girl to wear it.”
My heart sank a little as he reached back into the picnic basket, pulling out a tobacco tin and a pair of secateurs. Confusion settled in.
“Was it your mother’s ring?” I asked, watching him.
JD nodded. “It was, actually. But that’s not who I meant.”
He held out the tobacco tin and opened it. A single finger was inside, albeit it dried out and shriveled almost to the bone. A fingernail with remnants of pink nail polish barely clung on to the tip.
I took a sharp intake of breath and threw myself back in terror. JD leapt onto me, pinning me to the ground. I screamed out loud, startling the grazing sheep across the stream.
“Hold still baby,” he said through gritted teeth, his handsome features now contorted into an ugly grimace.
“Stop it, please!” I cried hysterically. I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. He was my James Dean, my love. He had a dangerous side, sure, but it was just for show. He had been nothing but a sweetheart to me. I struggled to no avail given the physical differences.
“This will hurt a lot less if you keep still, baby.”
He pressed his knee onto my left arm, it ached under the pressure. I tried hitting him with my other hand but I was already feeling weak with exhaustion. He pushed it down hard and forced it under my body, I screamed in pain as it twisted unnaturally.
JD held the secateurs in his left hand. He reached down with his right and held my wrist, placing the blades around the base of my finger just under the white gold band. I shook my head frantically, my eyes wide.
“Please, JD. Don’t do this!”
JD smiled down at me, his slicked back hair had fallen forward onto his forehead. His eyes looked different. They were the same eyes I’d fallen into a million times, but they were different. Hateful.
“I need something to remember the moment, baby. You said yes!”
He turned his attention to my hand. I was able to emit a final desperate protest before the sound of the secateur blades slicing through my finger made everything temporarily silent. I heard nothing but a ringing in my ears. There wasn’t even pain at first, just a cold and wet sensation.
I turned my head, grass and wildflowers were splashed with blood. My hand began to feel warm as a dark pool formed in my palm, the remaining fingers curled in. I slowly turned my head in a daze. JD held my finger, the ring still around the base. He looked at it with a smile, his lips moving but I couldn’t hear the words.
The sound of the running stream became audible again, and then came the pain.
My scream could probably be heard for miles, though there didn’t appear to be anyone around to hear it. JD just smiled down at me like it was music to his ears.
“You said yes! You said yes, baby!”
He reached for the tobacco tin, placing my freshly removed finger inside. A sick trophy. His hands then closed around my throat, cutting off my screams.
“Thank you, Lucy. You have made me so happy!”
My hands gripped his arms, trying to pull them away with all my strength. My left hand kept slipping, blood making it difficult to maintain a strong grip. I felt life slowly draining away as I looked into the dead eyes of the man I loved. How could I have not seen before?
There was movement to my right, from the direction of the trees. My eyes glanced over. I thought it must have been a hallucination, a vision due to the influx of chemicals that were no doubt flooding into my brain.
It was a woman. Or at least what once was a woman, now skeletal in appearance. Patches of matted dirty hair clung to an almost bald scalp. Dried skin split in various places to reveal the bones beneath. Her cheekbones were prominent, eye sockets empty. Her lips were missing entirely, there was nothing to cover the teeth. A stained checked dress hung from her body in rags.
Her thin arms reached out as she etched closer, bony fingers outstretched. As darkness began to cloud my vision I had just enough time to notice something; her left hand was missing a finger.
JD’s hands were suddenly gone and I involuntarily threw my own to my neck as I caught a breath. I felt wetness run down my chest as my hand refused to stop bleeding. I sat up, breathing heavily. Then I heard the screams.
JD was kicking his legs out as he was being dragged towards the stream by his hair, his hands clung around the bony hand trying to release its grip.
“Help!” he screamed in terror. “Lucy, help me! Please!”
I watched in disbelief as the skeletal figure less than half his size dragged JD’s body with ease. I was in shock, but mesmerised. It sounds like a cliché but in moments like that you keep telling yourself you’re dreaming. JD continued to plead.
“Oh God, no!”
The woman walked into the stream, the water level was no higher than her visible knee joints. He kicked around and flailed his arms, splashing water as he tried to free himself. Her skeletal fingers would not loosen their grip.
“Help me Lucy!”
It was pure desperation and fear. I couldn’t take my eyes away as the woman forced JD’s head underwater. She turned to me with empty eyes that somehow saw everything. With her free hand, she simply pointed to the direction of the trees. Go.
I scrambled to my feet, leaving all my belongings. I ran through the trees, twigs scratching my feet. I ran through the field. When I saw the convertible I kept running. I ran through the leaves that speckled the road. My feet ached, my throat burned, my hand bled, but I kept running. I wouldn’t stop running until I found help.
I took the glove from my right hand and wrapped it around my left which was leaving a bloody trail on the road. I mourned for my finger. There was no chance of surgery. I would never get to wear a wedding ring. But at that moment I decided, should it ever occur, I’d never accept another proposal again.
I don’t think Violet believed me, but found it to be an entertaining yet morbid story by her eccentric grandma. I spent years in denial about it myself. But one day I went back to that spot, sometime in the early 60s.
I wasn’t expecting to find anything physical, it was more about finding closure, but the tobacco tin was sitting there in plain sight. My finger was still inside, shriveled. The ring sat loosely around it. The other woman’s finger was in there too. I went into that thicket of trees and saw a patch of ground that looked different, disturbed. It was most definitely a shallow grave.
I used a stick to start digging, then scooped soil away with my hands. It didn’t take long to find the unmistakable tatters of a checked dress. I took her finger from the tin, along with the diamond ring, and placed them with her bones.
“Thank you,” I said, lowering my head in respect, and proceeding to cover her over again.
It seemed a shame to leave her there, but she was well and truly a Jane Doe. I did all the research I could, it was a lot harder those days. We didn’t have the internet and things like that. Whoever she was though, I owe my life to her.
Finally, I walked to the edge of the stream. I scanned the running water for signs of JD. A body was never found, though my story to the authorities wasn’t entirely true. I made out that he was very much alive at the time of me escaping. Other than his car all that was found was the picnic basket and some belongings. There was no record of the tobacco tin being found. It was like it had been left there for me intentionally.
A queer part of me thought about keeping it, along with my finger. A reminder to air caution with every man I meet in the future. But I’d always have the four digits of my left hand for that. I laughed to myself.
“As you wanted it so badly, sweetheart.”
I threw my finger into the stream and never looked back.