I could smell the newly-cut grass of the vast plain by the playground site as I stepped out of the car. The roaring sound of the cutter could still be heard somewhere, loud and drown, all at the same time. The sun was lazily peeping at the edge of the grey-blue cloud, showering rays of dim orange light. Ahh...the scent of green, always has been my favorite.
I lifted my weight off the car seat, erected my posture, closed the door, locked and lighted my steps toward a wooden bench. The dark copper wrought-iron handle was intricately designed making me wonder, why such an artful creation for a public place like this. Leave it there, trivial. Looking away, the lake water was winking at me incessantly, displaying the bright orange reflection of the evening sun. I sat down under the shady rowan-like tree, cool and breezy. To think of just the other days, I was dealing with facts of life so much so that I was in amazement. Not for the beauty of it but rather the opposite.
1.
Alice - an attractive woman in her late forties. The bookstore was her sanctuary for almost eighteen years now. I frequented her so-called lair until the day when I became more than just another customer to her. We chatted mostly on books as none of us had children of our own—a subject most famous in women’s talk. It surprised me when one day she mentioned rather matter-of- factly,
“I married a jerk ten years ago”.
I took a moment before I could respond.
“Oh, ok,” rather emotionlessly.
That’s all I managed to say. Really, it was not what I wanted to say but it was said and I felt bad about it. What if she wanted me to say something more, to ask her why she ever said that or maybe to agree that men were just that, jerks.
She made a move to her small working cubicle by the purified-water tank. She motioned towards the coffee-maker there.
“You want to join me?” She said, lifting both her eyebrows and a coffee cup.
“Sure”, was my immediate reply.
I needed one, to clear my sudden confusion. She poured the hot brew into an off-white oversized cup and handed it to me. With a nod, she offered me a seat. I looked around before doing so and she sensed my worries.
“It’s okay. June will take care of the store for a while”.
I nodded.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel uneasy. I feel like we can talk, if you know what I mean.”
“Yes, of course.”
“It’s always in here you know,” she said, patting her chest.
I took a sip-the coffee was good, and after swiping my lips, I asked her,
“That thing just now, ermm…the thing you said earlier, you know…”
“About my marrying a jerk?” she asked, sensing my reluctance to say so.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind, what happened?” the coffee almost spilled out as I waved the cup and lifted my shoulders out of awkwardness.
She smiled and joined her cup to its saucer.
“We were married because he insisted. He went and asked for my hand from my father! Can you believe that?”
“Wow, I mean no!”
“Yes, he did. They were stunned actually, my parents.”
“Well, who wouldn’t?”
“Exactly, but they fell for his so-called honesty”.
Her back against the brown leather sofa, she continued,
“I did not…you know, sense anything wrong then. He was nice, too nice even, until after a month past the wedding”.
I did not attempt to place a remark on that so she continued.
“He began scolding and yelling at me for no reason. Everything I did was just wrong. You see, it’s like that song, Superwoman, by I can’t remember whom.
“Hmm…hmm…” I nodded and gulping my coffee, “I know the song, and really he did that to you?”
I just could not help being surprised. After all, in front of me was this very soft-spoken, nice lady. Just to think that you can yell at her? Gosh, it just did not make any sense.
“He sure did. It did not take long for me to realize that I was an ornament for him-simply that. For display purposes. I just have to be with him and in the house to make it seemed better, looked better but nobody give a damn why you are there!”. She appeared angry at this point. It was contagious, I felt anger rushing through to my face too.
Then I heard the office door rattling. June appeared there and awkwardly motioned her head to the right and directing it to Alice.
Alice nodded and put down her cup, clanking on the saucer.
"You'll have to excuse me," she said with shivering lips. Wonder if the air-cond did that to her.
I shrugged and okayed then turned to see what was going on outside of the glass panel. There was a man standing near the fiction rack. Fingers trailing the books but didn't seem to find any in particular. Simply an act of nervousness, I presumed.
"Alice, I've got to go too. It's getting late". I echoed behind her.
She just smile and gave me a light nod.
So, I left my empty cup of coffee there and headed the exit. I glanced at the man at the fiction rack but looked away when my eyes met his. Rather peculiar looking guy.
As I stepped on the pavement outside the shop, my mind was in a state of unrest, unsettled and continuously wondering what would be the end of Alice's story.
2.
"Free to talk?". The message popped up on my phone screen. So I typed, "Yup" and pressed the send button. In an instant my phone rang.
"Hi".
"Hey, sure this is OK?". Came the caller's voice.
"Come over.” Came my sudden invite over to her. A pause. Contemplating perhaps.
“OK. Be there in 20 minutes.” She hung up abruptly.
In the twenty minutes, surprisingly I didn’t make any effort to clear the mess in my living. The few scattered old newspaper pages that I was browsing through were freely laying on the coffee table-all the Sunday editions, my usual revision after a week passed. I fluffed the sofa cushions though, with pats and slaps then rested them again on the couch. On my way to the kitchen, I adjusted the TV screen to face the centre part of the living room—I twisted it to the right just now, to suit my position on the sofa.
The tap water came out wild and splashy as I turned on the tap. It dashed out making hissing sound instead of the usual silent flow. I bent my head to the left and tried to clear the opening of the tap with my index finger. Hate it when the water splashed all over the sink and wet the area. I liked it dry there. The tip of my finger touched something slimy there. A little help by the thumb dragged out a clump of green slimy algae. The culprit. I turned on the tap again. Problem solved. Smooth flow.
After refilling the electric kettle and pressed on the switch to ‘boil’ mode, I left for the living room again. Channel 701 was on, so I continued watching ‘Supernatural’ season 5 which was half way through. Ahh…Dean.
The knocking on the door disturbed my focus on the alluring Dean, not the scenes. I heaved myself out of the sofa and straight to the door, peeped through the peephole; just to make sure it was Lina. It was she. I turned the doorknob anti-clockwise and as it spread opened, I bowed and waved my left hand outward in circular motion- much to her amusement.
“Stop that”, she urged shyly.
I just laughed and closed the door behind us.
“Sit down. Want something to eat?” I asked while my mind was inventing the kind of food to offer her.
“I don’t think so, not now, later OK?” She adjusted herself on the sofa and started arranging the pages from the Sunday Times and placed them under the coffee table. That was nice of her, now I am glad she came.
As I headed to the kitchen, Lina called out,
“I met a guy a few days ago.”
“And..?” I said, not surprised to hear that.
“And what?” Lina asked me.
“Yeah, you tell me! You said you met a guy and what about it? Who is he? Where did you meet him? Anything, just hit it.” I urged.
“It’s not important, anyway.”
“Helloo…. Don’t tell me you called me suddenly, asked me to come over and told me about meeting a guy and it was not important? Please…Lina. You can do better than that.” I rolled my eyes and she saw that.
“OK, I wanted to tell you and I know you will listen but, aren’t you surprised?” She walked over to me and sat on the bar stool, elbows on the counter top.
“Why would I be? Because you are married? Come on, Lina. You met a guy and what was wrong with that?” I poured the hot water into the two mugs waiting with 3-in-1 regular Nescafe.
"I don't know and I'm scared..."
"Of what?" Came my question.
She looked at me before bringing her smiling eyes to the corner of the microwave oven by the side of the marble top table.
"I like him....a lot." Finally, the confession.
"Like?" I repeated her word.
"Yeah, like. He makes me feel as if I am a blooming flower...a free wind, bright and light, ermmm...I don't know. It's like.."
"He makes you feel happy, is that it?
"Exactly!" Then she pulled a sad face as quickly as the cheerful one came by a moment ago, "I hate that feeling..."
"Why should you?"
"I want to feel that way when I am with Andy, not with this man I hardly know."
I took a sip of my now lukewarm drinks and motioned to Lina to take a sip of hers. She obeyed but that was the last one that met her lips.
