Page 15 of The Christmas Ring
“Gripping.” Vanessa faced him, hanging on every word. She was clearly having fun with the process.
“The reason?” Ben held up the antique. “One sailor held on to this very bell. When storms came, he would ring the bell. Sailors and passengers would take shelter... and survive. All because of the sound of the bell.”
Ben rang the bell. The timbre was something no one could manufacture today. “This very bell.”
The seller at the booth was eating a sandwich. He rolled his eyes. Antiques were apparently not his thing. Vanessa didn’t seem to notice.
“Hmm.” She pointed to a few scratches on the bell. “What about this? A lot of history here.”
“Yes. I forgot that part.” He shot Vanessa a smile and turned to the bell again. “At times, the sailor would fall across the slippery deck, just slide right across it. And the bell would fly from his hand. Terrible, really.” Ben dropped his voice. “Hence the scratches.”
Vanessa released a quiet laugh. “The sailor was a hero.”
“And by default, so was the bell.” Ben turned to the seller. “How much for this fine antique, my man?”
“Ten bucks.” The guy had no sense of humor. “Firm.”
“Very well.” Ben pulled a ten from his wallet and handed it over. “The bell of the bazaar is mine.”
The guy looked like he was maybe doing someone a favor working the booth. He wrapped the bell in a page of newspaper and slipped it into a bag. “Here you go.” He handed the bag to Ben. “Unless you have another story in you.”
Ben smiled at the guy. “You from Columbus?”
“Atlanta.”
“I had a feeling.” Ben saluted the seller. “Merry Christmas.”
“Yeah, yeah.” The man returned to his sandwich.
When they were out of earshot, Ben took a deep breath. “No way the guy was from Columbus.”
Vanessa grinned. “No way.”
An army convoy passed by, each of the trucks bearing a wreath on the front grill. Ben chuckled. “Tell me I’m not in a movie.”
“You’re not in a movie.” Her arm brushed against his. “Columbus is always like this.”
“All this time?” He met her eyes. “Look at what I’ve been missing.”
They kept walking and Ben told her about December back in Marietta. “Christmas brings out the character in my hometown.” He slid his hands into his pockets. “For instance... the mayor stopped by the other day.”
“The mayor?” Vanessa looked confused.
“Yes. He walked through the door, his face covered entirely with gold paint.”
“Gold?” Vanessa covered a laugh. “Is that... normal for your mayor?”
“Not exactly.” Ben explained how the mayor shopped like that until he caught his reflection in the mirror. “Immediately he gasped. I thought he might faint right there on the floor of Millers’ Antiques.”
“So why was he out like that?” Vanessa slowed her pace, hanging on every word of the story.
“Turns out he was on a break from choir rehearsal at the church down the street. They’re doing a Living Christmas Tree performance. And... the mayor is the star.”
Vanessa couldn’t contain her laugh this time. “Of course he’s the star. He’s the mayor.”
“Next... six guys dressed like branches walked in. The first one came up to me and asked if we had any antique Christmas trees.” Ben took a deep breath. “I told them maybe if they stood a little closer together they could—”
“Be the tree?”
