Dragonfly pt.5

The sun beat down, tracing patterns on Lily’s eyelids when the clouds didn’t hide its scorching face. As soon as she saw the relative darkening her eyelids would flicker open to chase the cloud’s progress across the sky, until it was time to close again. Sweat beads formed on the back of her neck, first absorbing into the paint-flaked weathered wood of the bus bench, then tracing itchy trails down her back and disappearing into the waistband of her jeans. Every time she closed her eyes those living, twitching trails made her think that long, squirming worms were writhing their way across her back, trying desperately to get back to the earth and away from the blazing sky overhead. Lily herself soon wanted to escape the sun, but her body wouldn’t move. Or rather, knowing that she wanted to get out of the sun was so incompatible with the desire to get away that it could not be accomodated. And so she sat.

Once in a while the stiff breeze would blow again, taunting Lily by flicking whisps of her hair across her face until they tickled awkward places. She would wait, trying hard not to think about it, until suddenly, like a flash of lightning, her arm would seem to dash out of its own accord, impatiently pushing back the hair behind her ears and viciously scratching the offending skin. And still the sun rolled on by.

In the distance she could hear the lumbering moan of many busses, but none of them seemed to be coming any closer. In fact, every time she heard the slow bass of the engine rumble to life her spirits would rise a little, sharply, anxiously; only to be dashed again and again on the cliffs of reality as the roar grew and then faded, leaving her alone once again. She began to wonder if she’d chosen the wrong bench. In fact, this whole plan was beginning to seem less and less appealing. But it was too late to turn back now; the desperate wriggling in her stomach, the clawing fingers at her throat refused to let her go.

“What’s a four-letter word for a large body of water?”

Lily started out of her nightmarish reverie with a shake and a jolt, jerking her head foreward and glancing around in panic. The little old man was now staring at her from his bench on the other side, holding his pencil poised over the little book seemingly in anticipation of her response. Lily stared back in shock and confusion, her eyes growing larger by the second.

“Come on, this is an easy one. Lots of water, four letters.” His tone was brusque, but not unkind. His face was relaxed, appearing expressionless, but his eyes watched her carefully. The wind blew one of the pages in his book, but he smoothed it down placidly without even looking down at it. “Can you help me out here?”

Lily’s brain started working again, and slowly the little cogs turned and turned. Without even thinking about it she licked her dry lips and blurted out, “Lake! It’s a lake, right?”

The little old man nodded sagaciously and noted it down on his page, his bearing and intensity giving the otherwise mundane activity something of a sacred air. And then silence as he continued staring down at the page, lost in concentration.

Lily waited for a minute, wondering if she would be called on again. But soon the uncomfortable pressure of her tail bone on wooden bench and his complete lack of movement proved too much and she soon slumped back against the support of the bench. But feeling somewhat less…something…than before. As the minutes continued to tick by her gaze followed the clouds less and less, slowly being drawn in flickers and starts to evaluate her silent partner.

Perched on top of his nearly stick-straight shock of snowy white hair was a tiny, beaten-up brown newsie cap. Despite the hot day he was wearing a blue, long-sleeve dress shirt and brown, pleated trousers that bunched over his shiny black wingtip shoes. The glasses clinging tenaciously to the edge of his bulbous nose were wire-framed and small, providing a nice contrast to his caterpillar-like bushy white eyebrows and heavily wrinkled eyes. A short mustache framed a lined, non-descript mouth, a long jaw disappearing into the collar of his shirt as he hunched slightly to stare pensively at the little book.

And just then, as she was studying him, he glanced up sharply as if he felt her eyes tracing his features. Lily darted her eyes away and tilted her head quickly to pretend to notice her shoelace being undone, becoming quickly absorbed in re-tying it in the most laborious and impressive way possible.

“Furry animal, three letters.” The brisk tone carried over to her again.

With a quick smile Lily looked up and said, “That’s easy. Cat!”

Once again he nodded, approvingly this time, and marked down her answer. “Well then, I’ll have to give you a more difficult one.” He added, scanning the page.

Lily wiggled over to the edge of the bench closest to him, leaning her arm on the rail so she could rest her chin on her hand and wait for her next challenge. The sun and its attempts to melt her were long forgotten, and the worms abandoned her back for greener pastures.

“Let’s see…country of kilts, eight letters. If you can do this one I might be able to finish the puzzle.” He returned her gaze steadily, calmly, waiting for her response.

Frowning in concentration, Lily’s foot swung impatiently back and forth. As the seconds stretched on she started to feel frustrated at herself, then confused, then, “I don’t know what a kilt is.”

The little old man chuckled shortly, then shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, most people don’t. It’s a skirt for men. Which makes the answer, ‘Scotland’. But thanks for giving it a shot.” This time he gave her a quick wink with the nod, writing in the word with relish and turning the page.

Her curiosity finally getting the best of her, Lily asked what she already knew the answer to. “Is that a crossword puzzle?”

“It’s a whole book of them. They keep the brain sharp. You seem like you’re pretty good at them.”

She smiled again. “We have to do them for school sometimes. Ask me another one!”

As the afternoon went on the puzzles were solved faster and Lily moved closer, until soon she was sitting on the same bench as the little old man, peering over at the little book in his hand excitedly every time he stopped to write in another answer. Until suddenly he stopped and closed the book, tucking both it and the little pencil inside his breast pocket and folding his knotty hands softly on his lap.

“Almost time to go home and make dinner.” He explained, almost as an afterthought, without looking over at her.

And with that Lily realized she’d forgotten to listen for the busses.  How many must have gone by already! “Which bus are you waiting for?” She asked timidly, hoping it was going somewhere she might want to go to.

The corners of his grooved mouth twitched slightly. Then he turned and looked at her. “One that doesn’t come here. Which bus are you waiting for?”

This was a question Lily hadn’t anticipated. She ducked her head down to avoid his direct gaze, playing with the frayed kneehold of her worn jeans. “I don’t know. One that goes away.”

“Now why would you want to go away?” His tone remained level, calm, almost pacifying.

“I…I’m tired of being left behind. I don’t want anyone to leave me ever again. I want to go somewhere far far away, where I don’t have to hurt anymore.” Words were spilling out of her mouth suddenly, surprisingly, just as quickly and shockingly as the tears that were leaking out of her overflowing eyes. The sobs came after, slowly at first, but gaining strength as the seconds slithered by.

The old man slowly raised one of his thick hands, and just as slowly placed it down on the bench between them, as if he was reaching out to touch her, without actually touching her. “You don’t want people to leave you, so you’re leaving them.”

“Y-es.” Lily hiccupped, rubbing her burning eyes while trying to hide them from view at the same time.

“Either way you’ll end up alone, yes?” It seemed less a question than a statement, but his tone indicated he was waiting for her to answer.

At the word ‘alone’ Lily’s throat squeezed tightly and her fingers dug convulsively into the material of her shirt. But her sobs grew shallower as the truth of what he said sank in. She nodded jerkily without looking up.

For a while he said nothing more. Lily’s tears began to dry up, the pain in her throat growing weaker. Until finally, he began to speak again, his tone soft but strong, like someone telling a favorite story for the hundredth time. “When I was young I played baseball for fun. If I had free time I went to the sandlot behind my school and hit some balls, seeing if I could hit them right into the clouds. When I got older I played after work with my friends, right here. From where that fence starts,” he nodded towards the chainlink fence separating the compound from the street, “to just inside the building behind us, this was our baseball diamond. Before this was here, of course.” He paused, as if to reminisce, and the wind tugged playfully at their hair as it gathered speed to chase away the sun.

“One day, one of my friends saw these girls standing and watching us. They were right where we are sitting now, I’d say. My friend always liked to chase the girls, so he called them over and talked with them, and soon we were all going for some fries together. One of those girls, she was very pretty but very shy, and she just watched us all with her big, brown eyes. When anyone tried to talk to her she’d smile and shake her head, and one of her friends would take over. But I just had to know more. So I asked her to come have dinner with me sometime.” There was a faint smile on his lips now.

“Would you believe it, when I finally got her to accept, she talked the whole time! But I didn’t mind, I just liked listening to her voice, watching how her eyes sparkled. And so we’d have dinner more and more. And one day, we decided to get married. It wasn’t always easy. We had fights sometimes, and life never lets anyone have a free ride…but we got through it, and we were happier than not.” He nodded again, slowly, with meaning.

“But one day she got sick. She was in the hospital, but they couldn’t help. It was too late. And so she had to go. She had to leave me behind and go where we all go someday. And so I’m alone again. I would have been alone without her too. Either way, it ends with being alone. Do you see that?” He turned to look at Lily, and his eyes seemed more wrinkled than before.

Lily was now completely absorbed in listening, forgetting to hide her ravaged face. She nodded slowly, solemnly.

“But, even though she left me, the time we had together was what mattered. It hurt more than I can say, when she left. And sometimes that pain was too much, and I wondered if maybe it would have been easier never to have met her. But I know, I know that there is no happier life I could have had, than the one I spent with her. Alone is alone. Isn’t it better to enjoy your time with the people in your life, enjoy what time you have with them, than to never have anyone at all?” Again, not a question, but a suggestion. His tone was even softer now, gravelly and hoarse, verging on a whisper. But underneath it was the same quiet strength.

The hand he had placed on the bench tapped gently against the wooden slats, just once. The sun hid for the last time, casting rainbows on the clouds from behind the trees. Slowly, the day was fading away.

January 29, 2012 | Categories: Cricket | Tags: dealing with loss, lifetime love story, the kindness of strangers, the magic of friendship | Leave a comment