Sapphire Ribbons

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He gave her the bear five years ago. She remembered the day like the present sun shining upon her face. It was her birthday and he was nineteen, ready to leave the house again. He was sorry, he said, that he had to leave on a day so special and supposedly festive—but he was obliged to return to the university. He’d be back, he promised, on the next holiday. Five months was not too long, he reassured.

But, she reasoned, she’d miss him so! She’d been missing him since he was old enough to attend Oxford and was never home for months and months.

He ruffled her hair and, chuckling, gave her a cylindrical box tied with a sapphire ribbon—her favorite color. She was but a child, and momentary joy and surprise settled in, driving anxiety away. In excitement, her cheeks flushed and, amber eyes glowing, she took the box from his outstretched hands.

Inside was a bear with fur more gold than brown, an evergreen ribbon tied around its neck. She lifted it up, admired the fine stitching, the softness, the rich color—then pulled it close. She rushed to her companion and hugged him, promising that she shall take best care of such a wonderful gift. Her tears were no longer wet but dry, salt and sticking onto her fair face, but somehow, a little joy was restored and her spirits were raised up. She was cheerful; he was satisfied.

Still, she was sorry he had to go and leave, for he was the only dear brother she ever knew. He lived so near their park and he had been playing with her ever since, there seemed no memory of hers existed without his presence. He shook his head and explained. He was to go back to the university, finish his studies, and then succeed his father.

Hence they parted with a memory not too bitter. True to his promise, he returned for the winter holidays, but his stays were never permanent. His visits were daily when he was in the country, and that alone satisfied her.

And now she was sixteen, and with her good friend Nat back from London, she could not sit a minute without fidgeting and feeling the need to walk around the room. She waited with mixed emotions, of nervousness and excitement, for it had been a year since he did last visit. For a girl as young as her, so lacking in patience, a year was a very, very long time indeed.

His name was announced by old John, but it was quickly followed by another. He entered the room with a lady beside him, a woman with locks golden like her old bear and eyes bright as its evergreen ribbon. He wanted to surprise her, he said, and may he introduce Miss Gabriella Eventon?

Oh! She knew what it all meant! Dear Nat, introducing a woman! She stared at first, wide-eyed and bewildered, for such a reunion she never expected. With emotions in frenzy, she ran to the staircase, swift but noiseless steps bringing her to her room, leaving Nat staring in confusion upon her fleeing figure. He mumbled an apology to his companion and ran after his friend whom he thought he knew so well, yet the present moment made him feel as if he understood so little.

She opened her drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors. Sitting on the bed with tears staining her vision, she lifted the old bear and glared at it. Holding it at its head, she opened the pair of scissors, consequently putting the bear’s neck in between.

A second was all it took; the union of the blades made way for the destruction of the toy.

Poor Nat. Even with all his Oxford education, he needed Isabella to spell her recent actions.