Forever Finley

by Holly Schindler

  Natalie’s chest heaved as she watched the caretaker from the cemetery step in front of her. He looked handsome in his suit, his hair and beard combed.

  He appeared frightened at first—out of place. But when his eyes met Finley’s, his age melted. The years dissolved with a single look, the same way a sun’s rays could melt a pile of snow. The caretaker became a young man—younger, even, than Damien.

  “Amos,” Finley whispered. “It’s you. At last!”

  “I got your letter,” he said.

  “I got yours, too.” Finley smiled lovingly.

  Amos trembled as he offered her his arm. “Shall we?” he asked. The nervous pitch in his voice, the resurgence of fear in his eyes—it was as though he was asking Finley to marry him all over again.

  The moment she touched him, though, a change came over Amos—far more profound than the melting away of years. He was a man who had been joined with his love. He had found her.

  Natalie trembled herself as she watched Amos escort Finley down the aisle.

  “What’s happening?” Damien hissed.

  “Our wedding,” Natalie whispered back. And motioned for Damien to start walking down the aisle, too.

  The moment they arrived, the tent dimmed. The guests and the pastor from the Finley Christian Church all froze into place. Only a few guests remained in full light, able to move and take in the full scene: Mary and Damien, the three men from the Model T, Finley, and the small group who had received the long-lost letters.

  “You don’t mind if we marry at the same time, do you?” Finley asked.

  “Of course not,” Natalie whispered.

  “Thomas,” Finley said. “I believe you’ll do the honors?”

  He nodded and stepped in front of the pastor, taking his place.

  “The earth does not confine us,” Thomas began. “There is an ongoing conversation between the living and the nonliving. Between what is physical and what is invisible. The moon and the sun watch; the wind and the rain listen. We infuse the world with our hearts and souls. With what is inside us. Always. With each breath, we weave ourselves in the fabric of the world around us. What we believe, what we love, it becomes part of the world. It remains in everything we touch. Our hearts leave prints on the world as much as our fingertips do.

  “Magic is not otherworldly. It is not forbidden. We all make magic. Every day. Every time we let someone see the interior of our hearts. But nowhere is it more evident than in the relationship we have with our one true love. That person we allow to see more of our heart than anyone else.

  “The world will test you. That is what the world is supposed to do. Just as you are making imprints on the earth, the earth makes its own imprints on you. Not always good. Plans collapse. Our intentions are not realized. You can let unexpected events tear you apart. Or you can trust. You can trust what is in your heart. You can trust in the magic you make while you are on earth. You can believe.”

  Finley took Amos’s hands in her own and stared into his eyes. Natalie followed suit.

  “Repeat after me,” Thomas said. “I believe, I love, I trust.”

  The couples responded—tears filling their eyes.

  “Repeat after me,” Thomas added. “Love is timeless. It never stops beating. Even when the physical heart is dead. Love is always. I believe, I trust, I know.”

  The couples recited the words, their voices low and halting with emotion.

  They were pronounced husbands and wives.

  For one couple, their love was still young and yet to grow to its final height. For the other, they had finally grasped that which they had desired for so long, through a journey that had extended past life. They’d found it, all over again—the love that had always existed but remained at the same time unanswered. But wasn’t that how it so often seemed to happen? Even the longest, most heart-wrenching quests ended simply. In a single moment.

  Suddenly, they were all running. Screaming. Hearts filled with the kind of unfettered joy usually displayed only by children.

  The two couples raced down the aisle, bursting out into the snow. The group who had been entrusted with continuing the legend—that same group of believers who had received letters delivered by Mary—followed, anxious to bear witness to whatever would happen next.

  Justin started to raise his camera, but Amos held up his hand. “This is to remain between us. Forever.”

  “But—the town—” Justin pointed toward the tent. “We’ve all waited so long for you two to be reunited. And now—now!”

  Amos shook his head. “No. Only the nine of you can know.” He pointed at them—Natalie and Damien, Justin and Annie, Mark, Michael, Kelly, Norma. He pointed, too, toward a figure who had only just emerged from the tent to join them: Mary.

  “But—everyone will gather in Founders Park next February to decorate. Everyone will come on Valentine’s Day hoping that it will be the year to see the two of you together. Why would you not want them to know—you have found each other!”

  “And you’ve made it happen,” Amos said. “You built the bridge, allowed me to cross. You never gave up. You insisted this wedding take place. Which meant we had a place to wed, too. Don’t you think that wind storm was testing you, just as Thomas described during the ceremony? Don’t you think it was sent to find out what you all are made of? Don’t you think there was maybe a reason why it hit Mary’s place, the site of Natalie and Damien’s wedding, harder than any other house? Don’t you think your actions—and your belief in the impossible—brought us here, finally?”

  “And we want to share it,” Justin said. “You’re—

  Amos raised his hand, as if to put an end to Justin’s questions. “If the rest of the town believes it’s over, it changes Finley from this day forward,” Amos continued. “The town that I worked so hard to create. For my bride.” He turned to smile down at her, the light of love glowing between them every bit as brightly as it had so long ago.

  “But why us?” Annie gestured toward the small group, still having a hard time formulating her words.

  “You were all chosen for a reason,” George said.

  “Even me?” Natalie whispered. “When I met you, I was so new to town. How could you have known—?”

  “I knew you were lonely at first, that was all. But I watched you from afar, and by the time we actually met face to face in the cemetery, I knew you’d be a perfect match for Damien. Almost as perfect as Finley is for Amos. So I primed you to think of Damien differently from the very moment you two met. I wanted you to think of it as a magical meeting, right from the start. Come December, remember?”

  “You all are protectors now,” Thomas said. “Of the legend.”

  “We’ve always had relatives who were protectors,” George said quietly, eyeing Natalie and Damien. “I’m glad you’ll be continuing that tradition. Somehow, it just seems right to pass it down to you. Mary’s given you her blessing.”

  “But how—what—” Damien’s face had grown as white as the snow at their feet.

  “You’ll learn more as time goes on,” Thomas promised. “You all have plenty of time.”

  “You’re not the caretaker at all,” Natalie addressed Amos softly. “All this time. You’ve been right under my nose. Last winter—you were kind to me. And again last spring…but I never guessed it.”

  “I’m the caretaker. The caretaker of the town. And while I’m away, so will you be. All of you will be. I’m counting on you to keep up my work while I’m gone.” His eyes swooped out across the group, landing on Mark. “But I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with that.”

  Amos pointed Finley toward his Model T. “We’re off to our long-awaited honeymoon!” he announced. When she hesitated, Amos laughed. “You’ve never ridden in one! You’ll like it.”

  Finley smiled and nodded, obviously trusting him.

  “Are you really leaving? Now?” Damien asked.

  “Temporarily. Honeymooning, as I said. Just as Natalie and Damien will be. We’ll be back. I
n the meantime, we’re leaving you in good hands.” He pointed at George and Thomas.

  Thomas smiled. “And we’re in good hands with the willing group you’ve chosen.”

  “What about—?” Justin pointed toward the tent filled with still-frozen townspeople.

  “They’ll awaken,” Finley said. “And when they do, they’ll have no memory of me—or Amos—or Thomas or George. They’ll believe they’ve just seen Natalie and Damien exchange traditional vows. With the help of the pastor inside. The tent lights will brighten, and they’ll all return—life will be as it’s always been. As soon as the groom kisses his bride.”

  The group eyed Amos as though waiting for him to do the same.

  Amos only smiled back. Such long-awaited pleasures were not to be taken lightly. And not in front of a crowd. Their kiss would come—later. Not on cue, not simply because a ceremony had been performed. It would come as the best kisses always did—in their own moment, and because it was the only way to express the feelings swarming through two people’s hearts.

  Amos took Finley’s hand; the couple turned and raced toward the Model T.

  A small group of believers watched them drive off into the sunlight.

  “I think we should have asked them how long this honeymoon is going to be,” Natalie said softly. “I mean, they don’t actually have to be back in a week, do they?”

  Annie nodded. “They could be gone for—any length of time, couldn’t they? Time isn’t the same for them, is it? It could take them decades to come back. A hundred years, even.”

  “Maybe no one in our generation will ever see the return of this kind of magic,” Kelly murmured.

  But somehow, they all knew that wasn’t true. Slowly, their eyes began to roll toward Thomas. But he was gone. As was George.

  As was the Model T.

  As was the bridge over the river.

  Mary stepped into Thomas’s old spot, smiling slightly as she stared off toward the horizon.

  In the distance, another repeating sound began to play. Over and over. But it was no longer a chant—or a chug. It was not a whispered warning.

  It was a bell. Ringing its high-pitched song joyfully.

  “Well,” Damien said, eyeing Mary. “We’ll all have a lot of work to do, won’t we? While Amos and Finley are gone?”

  They all looked at each other—the hand-picked group that had been chosen to make sure Finley continued its legacy of love.

  They smiled—each a slightly different smile. One broke the stubble of a beard. Another curled through a crop of wrinkles. A few had been painted with lipstick. Others took on slightly crooked shapes.

  It had taken more than a hundred years of doubts amid lightning bolts of faith, of hope overcoming fear. It had taken a thousand little miracles and the power of forever love. But here they were—finally. At another beginning.

  Of a magical town called Finley.

  If you liked Forever Finley…

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  Holly Schindler is a hybrid author of critically acclaimed traditionally published and Amazon bestselling independently published books for readers of all ages. She writes in a wide variety of genres (contemporary, romance, women’s fiction, thriller, humor, etc.); she has been nominated for several children’s book awards, received starred reviews in Booklist and Publishers Weekly, won silver and gold medals in ForeWord Reviews Book of the Year and the IPPY Awards, respectively, and has been featured on Booklist’s Best First Novels for Youth, School Library Journal’s What’s Hot in YA, and Publishers Weekly Picks.

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