The Story of BB-110 (standard:romance, 4335 words)
Author: Steve Remington	Added: Oct 09 2003	Views/Reads: 3366/2401	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
How can two senior citizens reveal 'true love' to a 15-year old girl? A wedding ring found on a beach brings more than a reward to a young girl. ENJOY!

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

began feeling around in the sand slurry that filled her small pail. She 
felt something and pinched it between her fingers and pulled it up. 

In her hand was a gold ring. She shouted for her cousin several yards
away on the sand but the combination of the detector earphones and the 
surf sound kept Maria from hearing her. Allison quickly ran to her and 
held the ring in front of her. Maria pulled off the earphones and took 
the ring. They both laughed and Maria shouted, “It looks like gold. 
Maybe we are rich.” 

<><><><> 

Less than a mile from the two happy girls on the beach, a distressed man
sat in his holiday apartment. In 24 hours, he had tried about every 
conceivable idea that might reunite him with his wedding ring. The day 
after Christmas he had been wading in the cold surf and periodically 
reached into the inches-deep water to pick up shells. It was not until 
he returned to his quarters and was rinsing the shells in his kitchen 
sink that he suddenly noticed his ring was gone. 

Having lost 10-15 pounds over recent years, he had noticed that his ring
was loose on his finger. Apparently the cold water had further shrunk 
his hand and the ring had slipped off. But where? 

He had no recourse but to retrace his steps which amounted to searching
for the proverbial needle in a haystack but he had to try. 

It was early afternoon when he began his hunt by carefully looking along
the sidewalks and sand paths to the beach. He was devastated when he 
realized that the tide had moved in and it was impossible to comb the 
area where he had dipped in the surf for shells. His frustration led 
him to consider a remote option. Returning to his villa, he looked up 
the phone number of the local newspaper and called to ask directions to 
their office. Learning that they were just moments away, he drove to 
their building in late afternoon. 

After explaining his predicament to a receptionist, he was handed off to
a classified ad writer. This just elevated his frustration. He learned 
that he could place an ad in the “Lost & Found” section but it would 
not appear for two days as the deadline for the next day's issue had 
passed. Realizing that he would be leaving in two days, he reluctantly 
placed an ad offering a reward, providing the phone number at his villa 
and at the suggestion of the ad writer, a Post Office box at the 
newspaper. She explained that any inquiries received for thirty days 
could be forwarded to his home address in Williamsville, NY. His ad 
provided the key detail for identification, the inscription inside the 
ring. In script, it said, ‘BB 110' 

He didn't know what to do beyond the advertisement except retrace his
footsteps to and from the beach. He spent three hours the next morning, 
even stopping walkers on the beach to ask their assistance. By 
lunchtime, he had assumed that it was gone, not to be found and glumly 
returned to his villa and his wife of 15 years. She tried to comfort 
him but she was as saddened as he was. 

<><><><> 

“Mom, Aunt Rose, look what we found at the beach!” exulted Allison as
she and Maria burst in the kitchen door of the rental home. She held up 
the gold ring like a talisman. 

“We were taking turns with the detector and I found this without even
using it. Maria was using it and I just spotted the ring in the surf. 
Do you think it is worth a lot of money? Is it gold? Look, there is 
some kind of code inside the ring. It says ‘BB 110'. Do you think it 
belonged to a spy?” Her words came in a torrent. 

“Slow down, young lady”, said Anne Chatham. “Let me see it, first.” 

Holding it up to the light, Anne could see that it was gold and the
etched inscription was clearly visible. 

“Well, Allison, it probably is worth a good deal to whoever lost it. My
guess is that it is a man's wedding ring but it is next to impossible 
to find the owner.” 

“Can we keep it and sell it? Would it be worth a lot of money?” 

“What I think we have to do is try to find the owner but the only way I
can possibly imagine that we could find the owner is to try an ad or 
maybe call the local radio station and see if they would put an appeal 
on the air.” 

Anne's idea about the radio station met with success the next morning
and they agreed to put a quick notice on the air on a “space available” 
basis for two days. The girls decided to see if the announcement would 
have effect before thinking about the ad idea. Anne also pointed out to 
the girls that an ad would cost money that would have to come out of 
their allowance and with only five days remaining on their stay, they 
might very well have no results and thus, no reward. The girls decided 
they had to think about that. 

<><><><> 

December 29 

“Found on the beach at Sea Pines – a man's yellow gold wedding ring
inscribed – BB 110. If you are the owner, please call the station at 
555-2324 and we will get you in touch with the finder”, intoned the 
morning disc jockey. The notice was repeated five more times that day 
and the following day. 

Unfortunately the owner, Bill O'Brien, did not have a radio at his villa
so the announcement went unnoticed for him. 

By the time the first newspaper with his ad insertion hit the street,
Bill and Elizabeth were packing for their checkout in a few short 
hours. It would be a long drive home to Williamsville with this loss 
preying on his mind. 

His spirit soared when the phone rang about 9:30 AM but sank when he
answered and it was an automated message from the rental company 
advising that they had to turn in their keys and checkout by noon. It 
was 11:10 and they were loading their car when the phone rang again but 
went unanswered. 

<><><><> 

As Anne drove Allison and Maria to the newspaper office, she reminded
them that the ad might cost them each a few dollars. 

“But why do we have to pay, Mom? Why can't you and Aunt Rose share the
cost for us?” pleaded Allison. 

“Because we didn't find the ring, Allison”, replied Anne. 

“Well, why don't we just forget it then and let us keep the ring?” 

“Young lady, you know why. You have to be honest and sometimes honesty
is painful. In this case, a few dollars will ease your conscience.” 
Anne thought to herself, this is a tough lesson for them. 

When they reached the newspaper office and said that they wanted to
place a ”lost and found” ad, the receptionist pointed to the opposite 
wall to a row of desks. They unhappily walked to the nearest one and at 
Anne's prodding, they told the woman seated at the desk that they 
wished to place a lost and found ad and asked what it would cost. 

“It depends on the number of words. Minimum placement is three days and
with 20 words, it will be $8.30 with tax,” she replied. “Do you have a 
lost item or want to find something?” 

“We found a ring on the beach and my Mom thinks we need to advertise for
the owner,” Allison said in low tones. 

“Well, let's see what we can do for you,” the clerk added as she winked
at Anne. “What do you want to say in your ad?” 

“Well, it is just a gold ring with a funny code inside it. See? Here it
is,” she said holding up the ring. 

“Wait a minute! This sounds just like an ad that I took for a man a few
days ago. Let me look at today's ads, first. What is the funny thing in 
the ring?” 

“It has BB 110 inside.” 

“Look here”, said the clerk as she swung her computer monitor around for
the girls and Anne to see. “It looks like you girls won't have to spend 
money on an ad. Here is the owner. His ad went in the paper today. I'll 
dial him right now.” 

The phone rang several times without answer. 

“I remember that he said he was leaving in a few days so he may already
be gone but he left an address. It is in Williamsville, NY.” 

<><><><> 

January 2 

“Here's what we will do,” Anne said to Allison, seated beside her in the
homeward bound flight from their Christmas vacation. “As soon as we get 
home, you can call this gentleman, Mr. O'Brien, who apparently owns the 
ring. He lives less than 15 miles from us. Tell him you have it and ask 
if he would like you to mail it to him. I think he will be pleased and 
probably send you a small reward in return.” 

“Mom, you call him. I'd be too nervous,” Allison replied. 

“Young lady, you found the ring, I didn't. Take some initiative here.
This is the adult thing to do. Frankly, I think he will be very pleased 
to hear from you.” 

“Oh, Mom, I wouldn't know what to say. Please, won't you do it for me?” 

“Allison, this is not a difficult call. This man will be delighted to
hear from you, I would suspect. You are always saying you want to be 
treated as an adult. Here is a nice opportunity to do an adult thing.” 

“Oh, all right. But I don't want anybody around when I call. Should I
ask him if he wants me to mail it to him?” 

“Yes, that is what I said just a moment ago. Tonight, after we get
unpacked and settle down, you can call him from your Dad's den. OK?” 

<><><><> 

The phone call was on its sixth ring and Allison, already nervous about
placing the call, was about to hang up. Just as she started to pull the 
receiver away from her ear, the phone was answered and she heard a 
cheery male voice say, “Good evening and Happy New Year!” 

She hesitated and then hesitatingly began, “Hello . . . I mean ‘Good
Evening' . . . and Happy New Year to you, too.” She paused, fearful of 
what to say next after carefully rehearsing in her head for 20 minutes 
before dialing. 

“This is Bill. Who is calling?” 

“Well . . . is this Mr. O'Brien? I am Allison Chatham calling from
Buffalo. Did you lose a gold ring, sir?” 

Shocked by the comment and in total wonderment, Bill O'Brien couldn't
speak for a few seconds. 

“Are you Mr. O'Brien? Did you hear me? I think I found a ring that
belongs to you,” Allison said. 

“I'm confused . . . yes, I'm Bill O'Brien and yes, I lost a ring about a
week ago but that was in South Carolina.” 

“That's right; I found it on the beach in Hilton Head. It has a code
carved inside it.” 

“Yes . . . yes! That's it. It says, ‘BB110' inside the ring! Oh, this is
wonderful news,” he almost shouted. There was a hesitation on the phone 
and then, Allison heard him turn away from the phone and say to someone 
on his end, “Liz, this lady found my ring! Can you believe it?” Turning 
back to the phone, he said, “You have just made my day. How can I get 
it from you? How did you find me? I'll be happy to give you a reward.” 

“Well, sir, I was with my family in Hilton Head for the holidays and I
spotted it rolling in the surf. When my Mom and I went to the newspaper 
there to place an ad in ‘lost and found', the lady showed us your ad 
and gave us your name, address and phone number. We just got home and 
my Mom said it would be best if I called. Can I just mail it to you?” 

“Oh, no, please I don't want to risk losing it in the mail. It means so
much to us. You said you are in Buffalo? Could my wife and I drive to 
your home and pick it up, say tomorrow?” 

Not knowing what to say to that remark, Allison hesitated and said,
“Just a minute, let me ask my Mom. I'll be right back.” Jumping up to 
go to the kitchen, Allison found her slightly embarrassed mother 
standing just outside the door of the den where she had been 
eavesdropping on the conversation. 

“Mom, Mr. O'Brien wants to know if he and his wife could come by
tomorrow to pick up the ring. What should I tell him?” 

“Let's see . . . how about suggesting that we bring it to him on
Saturday. We can make a day of it, just you and me and have lunch on 
the way over there.” 

“Mom, would you talk to him. You'll need to get directions. Wouldn't
that be best?” 

Smiling and hugging Allison, Anne said, “Sure, honey, let me talk to Mr.
O'Brien.” She picked up the phone and sat at the desk, fumbling for 
some note paper and said, “Hi, Mr. O'Brien. This is Allison's mother. I 
am Anne Chatham. I just suggested to Allison that we would be glad to 
drop off the ring at your home if you will give me directions.” 

“Oh, that's an imposition, Mrs. Chatham. We'll drive to your home. I owe
your young lady a reward. You have no idea how treasured that ring is 
or how delighted I am with this phone call.” 

Anne countered, “I can appreciate that Mr. O'Brien but we actually have
reason to be in your neighborhood on Saturday. Just give us the best 
time and how to find you and we will be there.” 

Bill O'Brien continued to utter profuse thanks, acceded to the
suggestion, set a time of 1:30PM and gave Anne driving instructions 
which she wrote down, read back to him and said that she would look 
forward to meeting him on Saturday with Allison. 

“Thanks, Mom,” said Allison after Anne hung up and continued, “But you
told me never to tell fibs. You don't have any reason to go to 
Williamsville.” 

“Yes, I do, Allison. I will have the pleasure of seeing my lovely
daughter gladden someone's heart.” 

<><><><> 

January 5 

“I'm kinda nervous, Mom. What should I say to them?” said Allison as
they pulled to a stop in a parking space in the quiet suburb of 
Buffalo. 

“Allison, keep in mind that this man is positively delighted that you
found his ring. I think you will find him to be very friendly.” 

“But Mom, what do I say? How long will we be there?” 

“You simply say that you are happy that you are able to return his ring.
I think he will take over at that point. How long will we be there? 
Let's just see what happens. We can say that we have to meet someone if 
it gets too long.” 

<><><><> 

“Come in! Come in!” said the smiling gentleman to Allison and her
mother. “I'm Bill O'Brien and this is my wife, Liz”, he continued, 
turning to the pretty, petite sweater-clad lady just behind him. 

Allison moved haltingly into the small foyer as Anne gently moved beside
her. 

“Hello, I'm Anne Chatham and this is the ‘ring bearer', my daughter,
Allison”, as she grasped the outstretched hands of Bill and Liz 
O'Brien. “Forgive my cold hands but it is a real winter's day out 
there.” 

Coats were removed and hung in the foyer closet and the O'Brien's
graciously led Anne and Allison to seats before a crackling wood fire. 
As they sat, Bill turned to Allison and said, “Well, young lady, I owe 
you a giant debt of gratitude. Your find has been the happiest event in 
recent memory for me.” He beamed as he spoke. 

Hesitatingly, Allison reached for her small purse and withdrew the ring.
She slowly handed it to Bill and noticed, as she did, that his hand 
shook a bit as he took it from her. Anne noticed the brimming eyes of 
both of the O'Brien's but said nothing. 

“Yes, that is mine”, he said as he looked at the BB110 inscription
inside the gold band. He handed it to Liz who took his left hand in her 
right hand and with her left hand slid the ring on his ring finger. He 
beamed as he held it up to the light and quickly brushed a tear from 
his eye. 

“Young lady, you are the best!” he said with clear sincerity. You are
entitled to a reward but before I give it to you, would you like to 
hear the story of why that ring is inscribed with ‘BB110'?” 

“Bill, before you go there, let's give our guests a cup of hot chocolate
to diminish their chill”, said Liz. 

As a plate of cookies and cups of hot cocoa were set by Liz, Allison
slowly explained the entire beachfront recovery and ensuing aftermath 
to the couple. Anne added, “Ii is so amazing that we would all travel 
1,000 miles for vacation to come together like this as virtual 
neighbors. It is truly a small world.” 

They chatted for several minutes about the joys of Hilton Head Island,
their upset over the ring issue and the manner in which it had been 
recovered. Allison slowly warmed to the obviously happy couple and they 
shared small talk as they enjoyed their snacks and drinks. 

After several minutes, Bill said, “Well, you ladies probably don't want
to spend your entire afternoon with a couple of senior citizens so 
allow me to quickly relate the story behind the inscription – BB110. 
Almost twenty years ago and after a divorce, I noticed an advertisement 
in the ‘Meeting Place' personal ads of the Buffalo paper that really 
intrigued me. I was hesitant to reply to such an ad but after two days 
of staring at it in my small apartment, I carefully drafted my reply 
and mailed it. A few weeks went by and I had mostly forgotten about it 
when my phone rang and a lovely female voice asked if I was the person 
who replied to the box at the newspaper. That lovely voice turned out 
to be the lovely person who sits by my side, as we speak.” 

Allison, still a bit ill-at-ease, was surprised by the statement and it
registered on her face. Anne smiled and said, “That's a wonderful story 
but tell us more . . . and how does the ‘BB110' enter the picture?” 

Liz smiled and said, “Let me insert my two cents worth here. I had
received many replies to my ad. Raising two girls alone and pursuing a 
career, I had little time for dating and when I did, there were more 
losers than winners. I decided that the ad was a possibility of meeting 
some nice men on my terms. Bill happened to be one of the nice ones, 
although I met several in the process”, she added with a laugh. 

“I was approaching middle-age and had no idea how to meet nice women”,
said Bill. “After a long phone conversation filled with warmth and 
laughter, I concluded that I just had to meet this very nice, anonymous 
woman on the other end of the phone. Before I could propose something, 
Liz said, ‘Why don't we meet some evening after work for a drink?' and 
I quickly agreed. It was to be the start of the rest of my life.” 

“It was hardly ‘love at first sight' when we got together”, Liz added,
“but there was something there that was different than all the others I 
had met. He just made me feel good.” 

“And believe me when I say that if Liz felt ‘good', I felt ‘wonderful'.
Here was a good woman, attractive, intelligent, and charming with a 
great sense of humor and I kept thinking to myself that a simple little 
ad had tossed us together. We have said on many occasions that our 
different interests would probably have never allowed our paths to 
cross so this chance encounter was somehow destined to be.” 

“So you mean you got married because of a newspaper ad?” asked Allison. 

“Well, yes, but there was quite a bit more to connecting the dots”, said
Bill. We dated on and off for over 18 months when I came to the 
realization that my life could be so very enriched and happy with this 
woman by my side forever and so I did the very necessary thing by 
asking her to marry me.” 

“And so we come to the ring that you found in the surf, Allison. Bill,
please finish the story so they can be on their way”, Liz added. 

“Well, wedding rings were necessary and we went together to a jeweler to
make that selection. The ring that you found is my wedding ring and the 
inscription was my idea. The jeweler asked if I wanted an inscription 
and added that most people inserted things like ‘All my love' or the 
date of the wedding. He was quite confused when I told him to just put 
‘BB110' inside. Tell them the rest, please, Liz.” 

“And so on a very warm August evening more than 15 years ago, I gladly
slid the ring on his left hand and knew that I was marrying the love of 
my life, the man that would be beside me forever. . . . BB110? . . . 
That is the post office box number that Bill responded to when he 
answered my ad.” 

© Steve Remington 


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