"Stone of Aphrodite" Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

The old woman peered over her jeweler’s glass at the anxious man in front of her.

“You wish to sell?”

“Yeah, I wanna sell it,” he looked nervously around and shifted his weight slightly away from the counter, as if he were keeping his sights on all possible escape routes.

The woman was not uncomfortable; she had seen this kind of behavior before and often in her pawn business. It told her the ring was not his but she didn’t care- once she bought it- it would be hers.
”How much you looking to get?” she smiled slyly, knowing he could ask any price at all – it didn’t matter – she knew what she would pay and that he would take it – he’d have no choice.

“Its twenty four carat you know and that’s a blue diamond in there.”

“I’ll give you three hundred in cash now, take it or leave it.”

The man stopped looking over his shoulder, his attention snapped back to the woman, "You gotta be kidding. You’re tryin to steal it from me.”

“I do not steal. I buy and I don’t ask where you got it,” she whispered snidely and saw she hit a nerve.

“It’s mine I didn’t steal it,” he protested loudly.

“Fine, no matter to me – but it’s not a diamond it’s only blue glass and the gold value is three hundred. That’s all I'll offer– you can shop it around,” she placed the ring on the counter and went to turn away.

“Can you make it four-fifty?” he asked quietly.

She turned and shrugged, “I can go to three hundred and fifty.”

“four hundred?”

“No, three-fifty and that’s final.” she stated firmly and smiled when he nodded in defeat.

Five minutes later the man left and she was very, very happy with her newest acquisition, in fact she knew more about the item she’d bought then the man could ever have known—for if he had – he could have asked her for any amount and she would have paid it.

Money was not the issue for her but magic was- and this ring held a very special kind of magic and she knew all about it.

The ring glittered in her hand – it’s delicate and intricate band felt warm and alive. She took out a small black box from inside a drawer and placed the ring within.

The time would come soon enough for it’s magic, soon enough for its next adventure, she thought and reverently placed the ring in her safe, closing the door and securing the lock but she knew nothing so mundane as a safe could actually contain it. 

*                                        *                                                *

"I'll be spending my time searching in vain for-”

“How can you be so callous Trent?”

“Mom, I know it’s valuable to you and I’m sorry your ring was taken, but beyond notifying the authorities what do you want me to do? Try to track it down? Where would I even start?”

“Don’t thieves usually pawn this kind of jewelry? You could start looking in those types of places.”

Trent looked at his Mom and hoped she was kidding but her expression was serious. She wanted him to find that ring. 

He sighed knowing his well deserved two week vacation was off, cancel that trip to London; he thought, he'd be spending his time trying to find the heirloom ring with its mythical powers of love that his Father gave to his Mom thirty years ago on a Christmas Eve.

The story of that ring – as did the ring itself- haunted him. He’d first heard the legend from his grandmother –she’d been given the ring by his grandfather- and it had been passed down through unknown generations of the Stone family from time immortal if you believe the legend– from first born to first born. The legend states, in some as yet unfound document in his genealogy, that the ring is a beacon of love and its powers were formed from the joyful tears of a goddess in love.

A fantasy tale of course, but he admitted his parents relationship was strong and loving and he and his brother and sister were secure and safe in the knowledge their parents would always be there- together – forever. And it was true, his grandparents were inseparable but – He was the first born and as the first born- in that unseen document- he must continue the tradition, for once the ring finds him his true love - it is written ….somewhere…he must propose and in so doing, ensures that all of his siblings will find their own true loves and the legend will continue to pass down to generations of Stone’s forever and ever but If the cycle is broken, no Stone shall ever find love again.

It was a completely ridiculous fairytale but one his Mother, Father and Grandparents actually believed in and like it or not he couldn’t break his Mother’s heart, especially when it had very nearly been broken with his Father’s illness last year from a fast moving cancer. 

His Dad was in remission now but his Mother was sure this news of a burglary would upset him and he was coming home from the rehabilitation center next week- just two weeks from Thanksgiving. Last year, he’d been too ill to even sit at the table but now his strength was back and Trent knew he would not let this robbery be a stress causing catalyst that could put his Father on the path of a reoccurrence.

“Fine, I’ll look up all the local pawn shops and see if they have it or have seen it.”

“Thank you Trent. I knew I could count on you to help me. Christmas Eve is only six weeks away, I’d like to know the ring is back in the family by then because it’s time for it to be yours."

“I’ll try my best to find it Mom, but I’m not carrying it around mooning over the possibility it will send me an angel to love,” he laughed at the absurd idea, but stopped abruptly at her stern look, “I’d better go start…only two weeks to Thanksgiving,” he placated her and kissed her cheek.

She shook her head, “You will believe someday, and you’ll be the one to find the ring because you have to.” hugged him.

“Sure, I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will,” she patted his cheek and turned away to pick up the coffee cup he’d left and began humming, as if nothing had upset her and all would be right with world.

Trent didn’t like the feeling of trepidation that she’d just caused in him. Stupid ring, if it weren’t for his not wanting to upset his parent’s he’d wish it stayed lost.

*                                                *                                              *

Juliet Wharton was a long way from her hotel and totally turned around near the markets at Portobello Road. The sky was beginning to darken with rain clouds and the merchant’s were closing their stalls as the first fat drops of rain hit her. She scrambled under a vendor’s canopy. The Vendor sold vintage records and serendipitously, a nice selection of used umbrellas.

“Looking for any particular band?” he asked her.

She told him she was lost and he kindly gave her concise directions back to her hotel. To thank him she bought an umbrella.

Juliet was soon back on a familiar path and was confident she was heading in the right direction. She slowed her pace and took in the shop's windows as she walked.

One store's interior was lit up by a myriad of illuminated counters filled with sparkling jewels, glittering like winking eyes in their cases. She was not typically a baubles and beads kind of girl but she felt the pull of the sensuous displays and had to go in. 

The little old woman behind the register was not what she expected as the proprietor of such an elegant shop but she smiled at the woman as she approached her.

“Is there something I can show you?”

“I was passing by and felt compelled to come in, your shop is so inviting, but I’m not in search of anything in particular. Could I just browse?”

“Certainly, take your time.”

Juliet walked along the cases of gold chains and delicate bracelets of fine design and she nearly asked to see one but she suddenly had an inexplicable urge to look at gemstones – no, she wanted to see diamonds- not just diamonds but rings. She had an undeniable urge to look at diamond rings. That was ridiculous, she certainly didn’t want to buy herself a diamond ring but before she could analyze her feelings she was asking to see just that- a tray of the store's best diamond rings.

The woman looked surprised at her request.  No more than I am, thought Juliet, what was I thinking?

The woman studied her for a second longer before she acquiesced, “I think I have some you may like and one in particular may be just what you’re looking for. It was sent from my sister’s store in New York and arrived just this morning,” she smiled oddly then went to a back room. The woman returned shortly with a small black box and placed it before her.

Juliet could not believe the beauty of the ring but there was no way she could afford it, it was a blue diamond…but oh it was lovely.

“It’s magnificent,” she murmured.

“Try it on,” the woman encouraged.

“No, I shouldn’t really...I know I can’t afford it.”

“It looks real I grant you, but it’s not a real diamond – its blue glass. Try it on.”

“But it looks so real,” Juliet took the ring from its black velvet bed and placed it on her finger. It fit perfectly. It glowed softly, at least she thought it glowed but of course it was those luminous lights from the cases causing the effect. “It is beautiful and it fits.”

“Then you must take it. I’ll wrap it up.”

“Oh no, I really don’t think I can afford this.”

“As I said, its only a synthetic diamond. How about fifty pounds and its yours?”

“Fifty pounds, honestly?” she asked incredulous that such a truly realistic diamond was that cheap, surely the gold was worth more than that.

“Do you want it?”

“Yes, I think I’ll take it.” Juliet smiled feeling like she’d just found a rare treasure. She didn't take it off to put it back in the box and couldn’t stop looking at it; it comforted her and made her believe in fantastic things. As if each day would be brighter and yes, she knew that was ridiculous but she thought it anyway. Happiness wasn’t such a bad thing to want, especially for a pessimist such as herself.  

She paid and thanked the woman who seemed happy for her too. It’s a wonderful world she thought as she left the store.

Outside, back on the path to the hotel the rain had stopped and the sun was peeking through the clouds. Juliet could almost swear it shone on her purposefully as she walked. That was crazy, but she didn’t care. She was smiling at the sunshine that beamed off her new ring.

*                                                                      *                                                          *

Trent felt a chill run up his spine as the old woman in the Third Avenue Pawn Shop told him she’d purchased a ring that fit the description of the ring he was looking for. She’d purchased it from a man the other day but had sent it off to her sister’s jewelry store in London.

“Are you certain it looked like this?” he took out a picture of the ring on his mother’s hand in the small wedding picture she’d given him to show to the pawn shop owners.

“Yes that’s it; blue glass in a twenty-four carat setting,” she smiled and nodded.

“It’s not glass, that diamond is real and it was stolen, so could you call the London store and see if they can send it back. It was stolen from my Mother and she’s heartbroken-”

“Stolen? Oh my, I had no idea,” her voice incredulous but her eyes did not look remorseful, “are you sure the diamond is real?” she asked slyly.

“Yes, so can you see to having your sister return it. I can offer a reward.”

“Of course, I'll call her- but with the time difference I’ll have to wait. I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

“Thank you. I’ll leave you my cell phone. Call me as soon as you know when you can arrange to have the ring sent back here.”

“Certainly,” she smiled and slid a pad and paper across to him to write down his number even as she knew the ring was not coming back.

She’d already sold it to a very special woman just before he came in.

London had been dreary and the ring had demanded it be sold to the woman. The magic was in full force now and the weaving of it was out of her hands. She’d played her part in it as she always did, moving it from one Stone to the next. She loved the play on words, especially since the legend of the ring was literally set in stone. It was written on the underside of a large blue stone, one that was and is buried deep under the waters of the mediterranean, to be precise.

She smiled at the young man and decided this Mr. Stone was quite handsome and she knew she’d found him the perfect mate, but of course he'd soon discover that for himself.

*                                              *                                              *

4 AM- the blue light on his night stand declared as he grabbed for his humming cell phone.

“Hello?” he grumbled.

“Mr. Stone, I ‘m sorry to wake you so early but the time difference sometimes eludes me. I’m calling from the ‘Other Side of the Stone’ jewelers in London. My sister called and told me the circumstances of the ring she’d sent me…unfortunately, I’ve already sold it to a lovely young tourist.”

“What?” His mind was half in dream but the fog cleared quickly at her words.

“You sold my Mother’s ring?” he sat up.

“I had no idea it was stolen. I can give you the lady’s name and she had mentioned the hotel she was staying at- if she’s still there – it was near Trafalgar Square. Maybe, you can track her down at her hotel.”

“How can I do that when I’m in New York? Couldn’t you track her down easier?” he was fully awake now.

“Again, I am sorry but you see I am closing the store and going on a holiday. I should have already left for the airport but my sister insisted I look into this. I’d really like to help more but I really can’t cancel this trip.”

It appears he was going to London after all. “What’s the hotel and her name and can you describe her?” he scribbled the information on a paper and then hung up. He called the airline to confirm the trip he’d booked last week - luckily he hadn’t cancelled it. He called the hotel in London and was heartened to learn the woman was still a guest but no further information would be given.

 

The ‘fasten seatbelt light’ extinguished and Trent unhooked the belt.  He was seated on the aisle and no one was next to him. He took out the paper from his wallet – re-reading for probably the tenth time the jeweler’s description of the woman who’d bought his Mother’s ring. 

Name, Juliet  Wharton, five feet eight inches tall, stunning figure, long chestnut colored hair and dark hazel eyes that lingered on green. She had a smile that could light up a dreary day when she used it. And long elegant fingers that the ring hugged perfectly as if it were made for her–

What the heck does that mean?

He’d thought it was an odd way to describe someone and looking back at the paper, he still did. Was it possible his mother had set him up to meet a woman who she thought would make the legend of the ring a reality? Nonsense, he thought. The legend, the ring all of it was nonsense.

He looked down at the paper, ‘fits like it was made for her’, indeed!  He signaled the stewardess and ordered a drink. No way was he going to keep thinking these kinds of thoughts and not try to obliterate them. When the stewardess brought his drink, he ordered another one.