Return to the Bridge

by Ralph E. Shaffer

part 1

Rick approached the once so frequented footbridge in Dehy Park with mixed feelings. Sixty years ago he had stood there with her and, in a moment of conversation, his entire life had changed. Now, a lifetime later, there was to be a final meeting on the footbridge.

He could see the figure of the woman as he walked through the park. She stood, slightly bent, in the middle of the bridge, where Rick and Ilsa had stood so often long ago. What was it that she wanted to give him? Her email only indicated that whatever it was had been saved for him all those years. Soon he would know.

Sixty Years Earlier

Rick pulled the by now somewhat battered letter from the pocket of his letterman’s jacket as he hurried toward the footbridge in the park. The letter was brief, but the envelope it was in contained a multitude of forms and other information. He hadn’t read any of that yet, only the letter, signed by an aide to the Director of Admissions at the university. He couldn’t wait to tell Ilsa his good fortune. For the first time in years a kid from Independence was going to Berkeley. The excitement still shone on his face.

The letter had arrived in the morning mail but, since he had worked after school at his father’s hardware store, he didn’t receive the good news until he arrived home that evening. His first thought, after hugging his parents, was to call Ilsa. Before he could tell her about his good fortune, she said she had something very important to tell him. He suggested they meet on the footbridge at seven and share their news.

Ilsa had reached the bridge before him, since the motel her mother managed was close to the park. As Rick crossed the lawn, he could see her, like the princess he considered her to be, standing tall, brushing back her shoulder-length brown hair as the gentle breeze blew it across her face.

Maybe her good news was that she had also been accepted at Cal. His thought seemed reasonable, since admissions were mailed so that they all arrived on or about the same day. Wouldn’t that be great if both of them were off to Berkeley? Wouldn’t the whole town be proud, especially the faculty at the local high school? Two members of the graduating class accepted at Berkeley! Unbelievable!

Maybe that wasn’t her good news. Rick knew that Ilsa had applied to some ivy League schools, among others. She was smart enough, but the cost would be a heavy burden on her mother. Oh, no! Could she be going to Stanford?

He followed the walkway to the bank of Independence Creek and onto the wooden footbridge. Here he and Ilsa had stood many times before, talking about school, the town, and mostly about what the future had in store for each of them. She had been looking west, toward the Sierra, and had failed to see his approach. But she turned, with a glowing face bursting with the desire to tell Rick the news.

“Hi, Ilsa,” he said with a big smile of his own. “So we both have good news.”

“Oh, yes, Rick. I can’t wait to tell you. All our talk about the future... and now I know what mine will be.”

She was almost radiant, he thought. He had seen her that way once or twice before, usually when it had something to do with what she was doing at St. Vivian’s, the small Catholic church that served the town’s few parishioners. Most of the town was Protestant and attended one of the other churches in Independence, if they attended at all.

Rick had gone to a few of the programs at St. Vivian’s, those in which Ilsa had performed. But he was not a Catholic, and her deep attachment to her faith was the only concern he had about his relationship with her. Even that didn’t seem to separate them and, throughout their years in public school, they had been close friends. Not boyfriend and girlfriend, but otherwise very close.

Out of courtesy, and because he figured he couldn’t stop her anyway, Rick played the gentleman. “You go first, Ilsa.”

He had hardly uttered the words and she was already telling him what she couldn’t withhold any longer. “Rick, I’ve thought this through very carefully. I’ve discussed it at length with my mother during the past few days. Father Crowley at St. Vivian’s has counseled me wisely, making sure I fully understand the consequences of my decision. In the end, Rick, I know I’ve made the right choice. Rick, I’m going to become a nun.”

To Rick, the news was completely unexpected. Another college, perhaps, instead of Cal, but not a nunnery! Even going to Stanford would have been preferable. Ilsa, a nun? He couldn’t accept that. Although she hadn’t been his girlfriend officially, he had never imagined a future without Ilsa in it in some way. He was crestfallen.

He, however, did not show his disappointment. He smiled and gave her a hug. “Good for you, Ilsa. I can see you’ve really considered this and that it’s what you want to do. I’m sure you’ve made the right decision.” He hesitated a moment, wanting to ask her why, but afraid that would sound like disapproval. How to phrase it came to him quickly, though. “You apparently had some doubts, that’s why you talked with your mom and Father Crowley. What was the biggest reason you decided to do this?”

“Rick, you know how the two of us talked about joining the Peace Corps, doing public service, serving in foreign countries. As a nun I can do all that and serve God and my church, too. It was partly your enthusiasm for the Corps that convinced me this was the right thing to do.”

She hadn’t decided yet which community of nuns she would join. There were several possibilities. All of the convents she was interested in were in the East.

“I’ll miss Independence, the kids... and you, especially, Rick. You’ve been my best friend since we were little. But although I may be a nun, that doesn’t mean I can’t keep in touch with you and others here. I’m not taking a vow of silence,” she laughed. “I was always near the top in speech contests.”

“Yes, you were, Ilsa. I know, ’cause you usually beat me in the debates.”

“The last time we competed against each other was in the annual program last month,” Ilsa replied. “You won the humor and extemporaneous contests. I only won the debate, and you were the runner-up.”

“Yeah, runner-up. If you weren’t so quick-witted I might have beaten you. I still have a chance for the silver medal that they’ll give at graduation.”

He paused briefly before continuing. “I never thought one of us would be gone away so soon, other than to college. It’ll take a bit of time to get used to.”

“You’ll be in college, Rick, and pretty busy. There will be new kids to meet, lots to learn, football games, fraternities. You won’t have time to mope over little me.”

“That’s the news I wanted to tell you,” he finally said.

“Oh, Rick, excuse me. I’ve been going on about what I wanted to tell you and I forgot that you called because you had something exciting to tell me. Forgive me, Rick, and tell me what it is.”

“I’ve made a decision, too, Ilsa. You’re going to a convent, in part because you see in doing that something akin to joining the Peace Corps. And that’s what I’ve decided to do. College can wait a while. Two or three years with the Corps in a foreign country will be great experience for me. Then, when I come back and go to Cal, I’ll be more serious about my studies and get far more out of it. And I won’t be that much older. Besides, the Cal girls will appreciate me more than the guys just out of high school. Yeah, I’m joining the Peace Corps.”

Without a thought, Ilsa kissed him and gave him a hug. The affection expressed on the footbridge that evening was far more than they had ever shown toward each other before. As they hugged, Rick wondered how his parents would respond to his spur-of-the-moment decision not to go to college but to join the Corps. His dad would probably be proud and say that his experience in the hardware store would serve him well. It also would eliminate the concern about tuition and other college expenses for the next few years.

Rick’s mom would not seriously object, since she had spoken positively about his occasional comments about serving in the Corps. And what would the principal and faculty at Owens Valley High say when their top two students both passed up college?

They talked a while longer, mainly about the remaining six weeks of their senior year. Ilsa never mentioned her college acceptance letters that had come that day. It was not until a few days later that Rick learned from a counselor that Ilsa had not only been accepted at Berkeley but that she was offered a tuition-free Regents Scholarship, a prize that went only to the best applicants. She also was admitted to Stanford. For several days faculty members shook their heads as they contemplated what might have been for the two top graduates of that year’s class.

* * *

Graduation Day came in mid June. Each of the twelve graduates made a short speech to the assembled parents and friends. Ilsa, as valedictorian, and Rick, as class president, made more formal presentations.

Ilsa, in keeping with her decision to enter a convent, spoke of worlds to conquer, of service to mankind and to God. With the knowledge that most of the twelve would remain in Independence, Rick’s remarks were a local version of finding diamonds in your own backyard. He recounted all that was great and good about the town, the opportunities presented, and what the future might hold for the community. Why, then, some in the audience wondered, was he leaving? A few correctly guessed that Ilsa’s decision to enter the convent was the reason.

Before the ceremony ended, the principal announced the winner of the silver medal for oratory. Amid great applause, it went to Ilsa. A disappointed Rick gave her a big smile as she accepted it.

The next day all twelve graduates and several faculty chaperones boarded a chartered bus for a weekend trip to Las Vegas. Live music, theatrical performances, dancing and all the excitement of Vegas was theirs. Rick and Ilsa stayed apart for most of the trip, but near midnight Saturday they were dancing together for the last time.

“We both leave next week for our future,” Rick said. “If I haven’t said it before, Ilsa, I will miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you too, Rick. But life calls and we are growing up. You’ll have a great experience with the Peace Corps, and then the university. There will be a lot of girls at Cal. Be choosy, kid. Pick a good one.”

He wanted to tell her that she was the one he would have picked, and now he wished he had told her that long ago. But he couldn’t say that because he didn’t want to make her feel bad if, perhaps, she had felt that way toward him. She had made her decision, and he didn’t want to say anything that would cause her pain. So he didn’t respond to her comment about the Cal girls.

“There might even be a cute girl in the Peace Corps with you,” she added, “and she will share your views on public service.”

Rick’s devious mind quickly had a response to that, but he couldn’t bring himself to jokingly warn her to beware of lascivious priests. He let it pass.

The revelry continued until nearly two o’clock, at which time sleepy chaperones herded their charges back to the hotel. Late Sunday, they returned to Independence and, on Friday following the Vegas trip, Rick and Ilsa were to leave the place where they had grown up.

There were two farewell parties Thursday night. For Ilsa, since the motel manager’s living quarters were too small for a celebration, the priest at St. Vivian’s opened the recreation hall for her goodbyes. The old building, formerly a barracks at the Japanese relocation camp at Manzanar, was gaily decorated. Most of those attending had never set foot in St. Vivian’s or the recreation hall before. Religion, however, was largely set aside as adults who had watched little Ilsa develop into a bright, beautiful girl came to wish her well.

Two blocks away, in the modest home he shared with his parents, Rick welcomed old friends and fellow classmates. Nearly everyone in town could recognize both Rick and Ilsa on sight, and most attended one or both celebrations. There was a steady stream of residents up and down the street as they headed from one party to the other.

Late in the evening, when all the guests had gone, Rick sat alone with his parents.

“If Ilsa hadn’t chosen to become a nun, would you have joined the Peace Corps?” his father asked.

Rick’s mother had wondered that, too, and she had discussed that with her husband one evening, but she didn’t think anyone ought to ask Rick that question. She remained silent, however, and now that the question had been put to Rick, waited for his answer.

“I would have gone to Cal even if Ilsa had chosen another college. We could see each other during term breaks and in the summer. If she had gone to Berkeley with me, that would have been wonderful. But going to a convent, that ended any hope that some day we might get together. I guess you think that joining the Peace Corps is sort of like joining the Foreign Legion. Not quite. But it will get my mind off her, and it’s something I had thought about for some time. She had, too. Going to the convent is, in her mind, comparable to the Peace Corps.”

There was no more talk that evening about his relationship with her. Before he went to bed, though, he walked the two blocks to the motel for one last meeting with Ilsa.

* * *

Proceed to part 2...