Marshall Ramsey

Leap Day #1: Two babies lay in the same nursery only three cribs apart. One was a boy and the other was a girl. No one could have predicted the amazing life they’d live together.

Leap Day #2: Two toddler in preschool looked at each other. Both celebrated birthdays. The boy, James, threw a cupcake at the girl.  The girl, Samantha, hit James in the head with a block in retribution. A relationship was born.

Leap Day #3: James and Samantha sat at their second-grade lunchroom table.  Both chatted with friends and completely ignored that the other one was in the room.

Leap Day #4: Hormones began to rage like the day before a hurricane.  James and Samantha sat across from each other in the gym.  Looks were exchanged and a flame was ignited.

Leap Day #5: James asked Samantha out on a first date.  Samantha’s dad met him at the front door.  James, fresh driver’s license in hand, carefully opened the car door for his beautiful date.  A first kiss was exchanged.  And a love was sealed.

Leap Day #6: A long-distance relationship frayed around the edges. Samantha had gone out of state to school. James had gotten an athletic scholarship to the big in-state school.  Temptation caused James to make bad decisions. A young boy from New York caught Samantha’s.  A painful phone call was made.  Tears flowed and a flame was temporarily snuffed.

Leap Day #7: A chance encounter on the street of their small town caused hearts to beat wild. Both were home and single.  Coffee was purchased and sparks flew.  The flame reignited on that cold, February morning.

Leap Day #8: James stood at the front of the church watching the beautiful bride walk down the aisle. Her father, the man who had once glowered at him on the front porch so many years ago, gave his daughter away.  Tears flowed down Samantha’s face. An amazing marriage began that day.

Leap Day #9: James Jr. was born on that February morning. Their first child lay in the nursery, beautiful and crying.  Samantha and James celebrated the birth of their first child.

Leap Day #10: Samantha and James celebrated the birth of their second child.  Jennifer Rae cried as her little brother looked at his new little sister.  His world was rocked.  James’ heart was now wrapped around another little girl’s finger.

Leap Day #11: Samantha and James welcomed their birthday with a disturbing call from Samantha’s doctor.  “Cancer,” was the word that would forever alter their world.  Like iron forged into steel, the battle ahead of them made them stronger than they had ever been before.

Leap Day #12: Samantha’s health had returned.  She and James loved this phase of their lives.  They celebrated together with their children the day that had meant so much to their lives.

Leap Day #13: James watched as James Jr. drove down the street in the family car.  He felt a knot in his stomach — being a parent wasn’t for the weak.

Leap Day #14: The doorbell rang and James walked to the front door. There was a young boy standing nervously on the porch. “Is Jennifer Rae ready?”  James smiled and remembered the look on his father-in-law’s face when he had rang Samantha’s door so many years ago.

Leap Day #15: Samantha and James sat in the baseball stadium and watched James Jr. swing at the fastball coming at him. A dink of the metal bat and the roar of the crowd signaled yet another home run of his amazing collegiate career.  Both parents smiled and felt the joy of life.

Leap Day #16: Jennifer Rae graduated early from college. Her work ethic was nothing short of incredible. James smiled as he looked into his daughter’s eyes. They were a younger version of her mother’s. He never had felt love like that in his life.

Leap Day #17: That love burned even hotter as he walked Jennifer Rae down the aisle.  He looked over and saw James Jr. in his tux, beaming at his little sister.

Leap Day #18: Samantha and James retired on the same day. Both planned the next phase of their lives. Travel was #1 on their to-do list and the began visiting every continent. And they covered every mile hand in hand.

Leap Day #19: Samantha and James celebrated their anniversary surrounded by all who loved them.  Jennifer Rae had twins and James Jr. had three kids of his own.  The banquet room was filled with laughter and love, the sign of a life well-lived.

Leap Day #20: Time began to take its toll on both Samantha and James.  James started losing his sight. Samantha’s memory began to slip.  But James didn’t need to see Samantha to know how beautiful she was.  And Samantha would never forget how much she loved her beloved husband.

Leap Day #21: They died the same day.  After 80 years, they had celebrated an amazing life.  Samantha died early in the morning.  Cancer had come back to claim another victim. Some say that James died of a broken heart later that afternoon.

At the funeral, Jennifer Rae and James Jr. joked that their parents were only 21-days old and acted like it. But they had lived more in 21 days than most people lived their whole lives.

All on Leap Day.

The early evening Mississippi August air was as thick as syrupy sweet tea. The couple sat silently on the front porch, praying for a slight breeze to blow through the oaks.  But no breeze was to be found.  The old terrier lay between the two, waiting for a word to be said. He waited a long, long time.

It was still. Too still.

You could cut the tension with Ginzu knife. (and it would still cut a tomato just like this…)

The dog didn’t quite understand what was going on with the humans. They were angry again. To the dog, it seemed silly. Of course, he ate cat poop, too. His understanding of the world wasn’t exactly sophisticated.

The married couple fumed. They had gotten so efficient at fighting they didn’t even know what they were fighting about. They were just mad. Pissed, actually. They sat on their front porch that sticky summer afternoon with heads hotter than the August itself.

Sure, they loved each other. But over the years, they had forgotten how to express it.  A slight here and a slight there and their relationship’s well had now run dry.  Both were mad about the past.  Unfortunately, the two forgot the simple fact that they live in the present.  They couldn’t forgive. Trust had evaporated like the puddles after a summer thunderstorm.  So like the afternoon air after the rain, they steamed.

Pride shackled them to pain.  Neither wanted to be first to admit they were sorry.  Oh no — That would be admitting they did something wrong. They slowly rocked their rockers, looking straight ahead and fumed. Both pretended the other one didn’t exist. It was easier to be mad that way. Nothing like forgiveness to screw up a perfectly good pity party.

The dog saw a squirrel trying to sneak down one of the giant oaks. He bolted off the porch and barked with great gusto. The squirrel, seeing the brown blur headed toward him, retreated to safety by jumping to another oak and escaping down its trunk. It left the frustrated terrier barking at the base of the wrong tree.

He was just like the couple’s relationship.

Both looked at their foolish dog and realized that their lives were barking up the wrong tree.  Admitting they were wrong, thought, would involve effort.  And effort would cause them to sweat.

“I’m sorry.”

Both spoke in unison.  They turned their heads and looked at each other. They didn’t have to say what for. That history had been well documented and written into the stone of their hearts.  But both had just taken a risk. To admit that they weren’t perfect. They made a sacrifice in their own pride to heal a wound.

The dog gave up on the squirrel and trotted back up to the porch. He lapped cool water from the bowl and plopped back down onto the wood floor.  It was too hot — the squirrels would have to wait.

The couple reached out their hands and held the other’s tight.

And when they did, a cool breeze blew through the oaks. It pushed the hot, still muggy August air aside, chilling their anger and their sweaty faces. And at that moment, the prideful couple thought of someone other than themselves.

The dog rolled over and began to snore.  Humans eventually figured out what a dog knew instinctively — Give someone else what they want and you can have everything you want.

On that hot Mississippi August afternoon, the temperature dropped 15 degrees.  And for that, the dog on the front porch was glad.

Every night for 70 years, the cabbie found himself in the same cab. When darkness came, he ferried the souls of a dead to their final destination. It was his damnation; his punishment for a past sin. Like Moses, he couldn’t enter the promised land.

He was forced to comb the city of San Diego, looking for souls to transport.  He was like an oarsman on the River Styx; he’d transport his passengers across to their final destination where they’d enter.  But not him. Nope. Not his soul. He just drove the city looking for fares. Night after night. The meter was always running.

In 1942, he and his fellow Marines were about to ship out to war. Their ship was in the harbor, ready to head to an unheard of place called Guadalcanal. He and his buddies celebrated their last night in America going out drinking.  Beer flowed and a curfew was missed. The Marines stole a cab and rushed back toward their barracks. They never saw the young girl crossing the street.  A sick-sounding crunch of metal and a crumbled body lay in the street.

The young Marine panicked and ran from the driver’s seat of the cab.  And he never saw the car coming right at him.

The last thing he remembered was a brilliant flash before he ended up in the front seat of the cab he had stolen.  The doors were locked; they wouldn’t open.  The first night, he just screamed to the top of his lungs for help. But the living could not see or hear him. The good people of San Diego went about their nightly business.  He watched as his ship left the harbor. And more ships after it. He saw VJ day and the Marines and sailors come home.  Time marched on which out him.  He just did his job, night after night as the years sailed on.

Tonight he transported a 65-year-old Alzheimer’s patient from the hospice.  He took the six-year-old little girl with leukemia from SDSU hospital.  And the executive who had a heart attack while cheating on his wife with his secretary? He picked him up, too.  He transported them all.  The Dispatcher would radio in their locations. He’d drive them down to the San Diego Harbor front to the ghostly transport ship.  Some said that it was a Liberty Ship that had been torpedoed by a Japanese submarine.  But to him it looked much nicer than any Liberty Ship he saw during the war. He couldn’t get close enough, but he swore the rails were made of gold.

The passengers would embark at sunrise.  Then the ship would sail past Point Loma and into the Pacific where it would sail toward the western horizon. He’d drive his cab to Cabrillo Light House and watch the ship vanish until the first rays of sunlight caused him and his cab to evaporate into the mist.

Saturday night he got a call to pick up an elderly lady from a La Jolla nursing home.  The Dispatcher, in an unusual move, did not give her name. The cab driver just pulled off the 5 (the north/south interstate in San Diego) and headed into the rich little seaside town.  He honked the horn (as he always did) and waited. The doors opened and an elderly lady with white flowing hair walked out toward the cab.  With every step she took, years melted off her face.  And as her hand touched the cab’s door handle, the cabbie realized with shock who she was.

Amanda. She was the young wife he had left behind.

Words left both the cabbie and Amanda. They just stared at each other.

They had gotten married the day after Pearl Harbor. Sweethearts since school, he finally got the courage to pop the question when he knew he was going to join the Marines.  He had always known he wanted to be with her.  But the crumbling world gave him the incentive to make it so. It was an amazing three months.  Night after night of love. He knew what he had to live for now — her. Her beautiful face. The small of her back. The smile on her face. Her.  Amanda. She began to speak.

“I moved on with my life but I always missed you. It wasn’t fair to my second husband. He was a good man and we raised an amazing family.  But you — I always loved you.  When I heard you had died, part of me died, too.”

The cabbie tried to speak, but couldn’t.  Tears flowed and he cursed the fact there was glass between him and his beloved passenger.  He put his face in his hands and sobbed uncontrollably.  “I’m so sorry God. I’m so sorry. Forgive me, Lord.  Please allow the young girl I killed to forgive me, too. Please allow Amanda to forgive me, too.”

The cabbie waited for a response, but got none.  He just looked at the face he had loved and started to drive to the harbor.  He tried to soak up every mile — because he knew she’d soon move on without him once again.  “Hell couldn’t be any worse than losing her twice,” he thought as he slowly proceeded down the 5.

He looked at his watch. He had to hurry — sunrise was only an hour away.  He got off at the airport exit and headed down by the Harbor.  He turned next to the U.S.S. Midway and pulled into the parking area next to the ghost ship.  He looked at Amanda one last time and said, “I will always love you.”  She looked at him and said, “And I will always will love you, too.”

And then a strange thing happened. The cab’s doors unlocked.

The cabbie was shocked at first but then immediately threw open the driver’s door. He ran back and opened Amanda’s door. Both embraced each other, kissing like they hadn’t in 70 years.

Then the cabbie realized it. He had been forgiven. All he had to do was ask. He turned around and looked at the cab in front of the San Diego skyline and smiled.  “Thanks for the ride,” he quipped. Then he and the love of his life headed to the ship that’d take them on their final journey.

The cabbie had picked up his final fare. The meter was finally turned off.  And the cabbie found peace at last.