A continuation of Love and Its
Discontents – a short story
The coffee shop is romantically nestled in the
city center square, opposite the cathedral gates, in the shadow of St.
Augustine's Abbey. Canterbury's medieval history is easy to view from the café,
its ancient streets and pristine buildings. They sit at a corner table, along
the window front. The storm has taken a turn for the worse, curtains of rain
descending in a torrential shower, belting the glass. Julian is oblivious to
the rattling hum of the downpour, his hearing pinned to Alexa's voice,
listening with fascination.
This is his gift.
They talk for hours, for Julian, the first real
conversation since arriving in Canterbury. Between the brisk swell of words, they
steal bites of a shared Amaretto tort, their forks touching, unaware. Chatter
fills the café, the aroma of Frangelico scenting the air as he tells her about
his upbringing in London, the childhood years, the boarding school, undergrad
studies at Oxford. He speaks in a way that implies a map has been drawn of his
life, his every step prearranged since birth. In the telling, she senses some
discontent, unhappiness, though he guards his words carefully. He is not one to
disparage another, to gain an air of supremacy through discreet snubs. When he
explains how he wound up in Canterbury, she sees the glow in his eyes, the
spark of excitement, like one who has achieved something deemed impossible.
"I
decided I needed to venture out on my own, apart from my family's wishes. My
father has dictated every move for as long as I can remember. So I left Oxford
for Kent, to finish my final year."
She understands how he feels.
Julian sips from his third cappuccino, wired
inside, the caffeine inspiring more than conversation. During a quick bathroom
break, he slaps himself in the mirror, making certain he is not imagining all
of what's transpiring. Something amazing is happening to him. Something truly
incredible, some whole impossibility occurring. His palms are clammy, his pulse
roaring. He cracks the restroom door, peeks, double checks, ensures the moment
is not some cruel hoax. The girl, that beautiful girl, the trembler of men's
knees, Alexa, is still seated at his table. He shuts the door, twirls, jumps,
thrusts a knee high in the air, pumps a fist, shouting, "Yes yes yes! One
more time, "Yes!"
A pinched voice, amplified with panic, surfaces
from behind the closed door of the lone stall in the tiny washroom. "I'm
doing my best mate, trying to hurry. Can you hold it?"
Julian chuckles, starts to lose it, "Take
your time, take your time, no worries. I just need the sink."
"No mate, not the sink!" The man
appears to be out of breath.
A roar of flushing ensues. The gentleman on the
commode is war pressing the handle, as if he's in some foxhole being overrun,
unloading all his artillery. Julian doubles over in hilarity, trying to explain
himself, but can't quite speak. The man trapped in the stall, discharging his insides,
is unable to decipher Julian's words, his voice having fractured into shards of
laughter.
The flushing is ferocious, without end.
Julian exits, laughing, lightheaded, feeling
like he's floating. Heads throughout the cozy café turn his way. Furrowed brows
and perplexed looks greet him as he moves through the candlelit room.
Flickering hues of orange illuminate the walls, the fog encased windows as
Alexa comes into view, the glow of the embers dancing in her eyes. He feels a
loosening inside his chest, his heart in flight.
"Was that you shouting in the lavatory?"
she asked, puzzled.
He's still laughing in controlled measures.
"Before you answer, remember our
condition."
"No lying … under any circumstance. I'll
never forget," he says.
"You're a fast learner."
"He stares, smitten. "I've been told
that before."
"So?"
"Yes, that was me speaking loudly."
A smile of suspicion adorns Alexa's face.
"Speaking loudly or shouting?"
"More like shouting, I suspect,"
Julian says.
"And all along I thought you were
bashful."
"I'm full of contradictions."
Julian moves beyond cappuccinos, orders a double
espresso, hoping to never fall asleep again. At least not while she is near.
She looks at him in that way, that
special way that only a woman can do, paralyzing a man's senses, his reason, as
she awaits an explanation. Julian attempts to clarify.
"I was just coming to an understanding with
myself, a wonderful moment of enlightenment.
As Alexa speaks about the children in the
orphanage, she lights up, her beauty increasing with every word, the
attractiveness arising effortlessly. Julian does not think this is possible,
but it's happening before his very eyes. Her beauty is evolving into beauty he
has never imagined, never seen before. It reaches into another galaxy, far beyond
the universe of her spectacular arcs, bursting into beauty that transcends
description.
"Katie is so bubbly, a natural leader. She
sits in the center of the room, lays out all the toys, the others her age right
behind her, looking over her shoulder, emulating her every move."
She chats on about three more children, reaches
across the table, inadvertently touches Julian's hand, enthralled in the lives
of the little ones. And then she opens up about Sumi. Julian is pained by the
story, his eyes moistening. He drags his gaze to the spattered window, tracing
the rivulets of rain, his own eyes leaking in silence. He feels an attachment
to this child he has never met; an affinity for the young girl from Bangladesh,
the one with caramel colored eyes.
Alexa sees his compassion.
"Julian, you need to come. Promise me you'll
come by this week to visit. You'll feel so much life, joy, in the presence of
the children. When you meet Sumi, you'll fall in love with her. And you must
see her stunning eyes."
He can't sleep that night, replaying the
conversation in his head, trying to recall her every word. He thinks of the
candle's flame dancing in Alexa's eyes, the delicate dimples stamping her
smile. He can't get over how she sparkled when she spoke of the children, so
alive, euphoric even, twirling her hair, beaming with wonder, with possibility.
He feels an expansion inside, an enlargement of perspective, of something
virtuous and honorable, as he remembers. There is something exhilarating about
her, more than physical, something wholesome and right. He feels a desire to
throw himself headlong into some commitment he knows little about.
Soon they become inseparable.
Five days later, Julian arrives at the
orphanage. He goes into the office, fills out numerous forms, and is approved
for the volunteer list. A staff member directs him to the playroom where he
spots Alexa surrounded by a dozen children. She is reading from an open book in
her lap. Raptly, the children listen to the story, captivated by her words. No
child turns Julian's way. He steps lightly, hoping not to interrupt. Alexa
glances up, smiles, motions with her eyes to a couch along the back wall. He
takes a seat, observing, recognizing her way, her bond with the little ones, as
if she's walked in their shoes. She's a performer, bringing the story to life
with inflection, expression, holding the children spellbound, enthralled one
moment, in a roar of laughter the next. Julian studies her as she narrates,
notices she is wearing little makeup, concludes that powder and paint only
conceal her natural beauty.
He hears little footsteps pattering to his right,
and turns. He spots a slight frame tiptoeing across the floor, head down, face
turned away, lustrous black hair stretching to her lower back. Though he can't
see her eyes, he knows immediately it is Sumi by the way she carries her head
bent to one side. He watches her join the group. She makes certain she
positions herself in a way where Julian, this stranger, can only see the left
side of her face. Alexa nods, smiles. Julian acknowledges the verification,
smiles in return.
Julian no longer hears the story being read.
He's back at the café, the candlelit room, the rainstorm pounding the city,
catching fragments of Alexa's voice, reliving Sumi's nightmare.
Hemorrhage …
Too much blood …
Mother passed during
birth …
Father heartbroken ..
Never forgave …
Three sisters on pins
and needles …
Father snapped …
A smoky canister of …
Crazy, raging, machete …
Two dead …
One maimed for life …
Alexa's voice brings him back to the present.
"I want you all to meet my friend Julian."
Julian rises, takes two steps toward the
children. They rush his way, crowd him with hugs before he can take his third.
Julian stoops low, greets the children. Kate immediately grabs his hand,
pulling him toward the shelf holding board games. "Mr. Julian, I want you
to play Candyland with us." The
others follow in tow, ecstatic, racing to grab Candyland from the shelf.
"I told you she was a leader," Alexa
says.
Julian can only grin. He looks back, notices
Sumi at the back of the pack. She abruptly turns her head, flashing only her
left profile, her perfect side, walks sideways.
"Children, slow down. Everyone will get a
chance to play. Mr. Julian will choose the first four," Alexa says.
The younger ones jump excitedly, extending hands
high, their voices filling the room, "Pick me! Pick me!" Julian
glances Alexa's way, unsure of whom to pick, silently pleading for help. This
is Julian, placing others first, not wanting to injure a child's heart through
exclusion. Again, Alexa recognizes this quality, feels something break wide
open inside of her. Not one of her past boyfriends has possessed such a trait,
always pressing, pushing, to get what they want, making her feel like an object
created for the bedroom, a trophy to be flashed all over town.
Alexa calls out four names. Sumi is among the
group. She darts to the table where Julian is now sitting, takes the chair to
his right, shielding her pain, hiding her right profile. The other children
seem to understand the etiquette, the protocol. They compete over the remaining
chairs, leaving the chair to Julian's right combat free.
"Okay, before the game starts, we're going
to introduce ourselves, beginning with Samantha," Alexa says.
One by one, around the table, the children
politely make introductions. Sumi is the last to speak. As she talks, her head
is angled down, slightly pointed Julian's way. He sees for the first time her
eyes, mesmerizing, caramel colored, rimmed by long, thick lashes, sparkling
with amber hues. Spectacular, he
thinks. He observes how she struggles to safeguard her marked side, vulnerable
to, defenseless against, her own tormenting reality; the mutilation always
being the first thing that people notice about her.
Julian introduces himself to the group,
surprising Alexa as he addresses each child by name, his photographic memory on
full display. He proceeds around the table, looking each child in the eye,
offering compliments. Sumi squirms as her turn approaches, folds herself in,
shies her gaze down at the table. She lifts her right hand in an attempt to
cover her jaw and cheek, wishes her hand was bigger, as Julian addresses her.
"And Sumi, you have the most beautiful
eyes, and skin, and hair. Look at how pretty you are."
Sumi freezes, hesitates, turns, looks up, tips
her eyes toward Julian. At a snail's pace, she allows her hand to drop, showing
her marred profile for the first time, the barbaric act of her father on full
display. The grisly mutilation covers the entire right side of her face,
monstrous, dozens of scars, colors, layers of skin and tissue melted into a
fusion of matchless tones, uneven mounds of disfigurement. Julian looks past
the maiming, into those sensational eyes, the caramel irises, sparking
sunflowers bursting with life. He leans, embraces Sumi, making certain his
right cheek is pressed firmly against hers. Sumi's mouth breaks into a smile as
she feels his face covering her wounds, feels the fear loosening inside, the
terror fleeing.
Tender emotions sting Alexa's eyes.
On mornings Julian is free, he joins Alexa at
the orphanage. He feels weightless as he watches her with the children, the
smiles she extracts from the little faces as she kneels and enters their world.
She displays great patience, playing with each child, never leaving one
wanting. The children beam in her company, in the wave of compliments, their
tiny eyes radiant with joy. He knows she was born for this, to better the lives
of abandoned children. She has the gift, the touch. He feels a shining around
himself whenever one of the little ones scoots his way, demanding to be held,
embraced. It's an emotion he has rarely felt and he feels profoundly empty
those mornings he's absent, preoccupied with his part-time paralegal work,
sifting through a mountain of briefs. When he clocks out, he rushes to the pub,
books in hand, taking his booth, anxious to catch up with Alexa.
Something inside him is changing.
Alexa lights up whenever he comes through the
door, setting up a procession of sparks within. The shyness is gone and the
real Julian is now present, his lighthearted laughter, his clever wit, his
positive energy, his easy concentration. Everything has changed about his
demeanor from when she first met him, everything except the staring. He can't
help himself. He watches her move through the pub, taking orders, filling glasses,
her beauty derailing men's thoughts, causing tongues to fumble over words,
interrupting conversations midsentence. She draws compliments at most tables,
yet pays little attention, eager to update Julian on the children. He can't
wait to listen.
He never tires of hearing.
Seven months after they meet, two months before
the wedding, a week after graduation, Julian no longer feels the urge to
practice law, to settle into his role as junior partner at his father's
renowned law firm in London. This has been building over time. He just doesn't
hunger for the prestige and wealth as he used to. The desire for material
success has dulled. The house in Brompton Square no longer entices. Now, at the
center of his thoughts, is his life with Alexa, and the smiling little faces,
the abandoned ones clamoring for attention. Sitting in church on Sundays, he
feels a strange pull to another life, another place, intensifying week by week.
As the wedding approaches, Julian continues to
put in hours at the law firm in Canterbury, to complete the pretrial research
on one final case. He does not need to do this, as the contractual agreement
ended upon graduation. But to not do so would make him untrue to himself, so he
adjusts his schedule to fit in the work. Julian has never been one to let
people down, to leave tasks undone. He wakes early, enters the firm before dawn,
storms through the stacks of research, not wanting to miss one morning at the
orphanage with Alexa. He forces himself to finish early, so he can scour the internet,
hoping to douse the strange fire burning inside of him. He keeps returning to
the same website again and again. He can't shake what he's seeing, what he's learning.
Every day, the same pattern: dawn, law firm, stacks, internet, orphanage, law
firm, pub. And as of recently, one clandestine mission, four nights a week.
Little does Alexa know, Julian has been sneaking
off to the orphanage when she is toiling at the pub. He has secretly formed a
choir with the children. At the wedding, they will join Julian and sing a song
of dedication to Alexa. He has chosen a slight rendition of You're Beautiful by James Blunt,
altering the lyrics some.
The children love the rehearsals, the way Julian
works with them, the singing and swaying. The man has rhythm as he directs the
little ones, and they follow his every step, their smiles beaming, their little
bodies rocking side to side, singing the chorus, their favorite part:
You're beautiful. You're
beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's
true.
I saw your face in a
crowded place,
And I just knew what to
do,
Cause I'll always be
with you.
The children stare with fascination as Julian
sings the solo parts, his voice remarkably similar to that of the famous Mr.
Blunt. Then they all work together on the climactic ending, singing in tow as
they move down the aisles, a heartrending surround sound in motion.
Julian turns the large playroom into a replica
of the chapel where he and Alexa are to be married. He directs the children,
instructing them where to turn, how to walk, when to gesture, when to add
inflection, as they all move in unison to circle Alexa at the altar. He allows
Sumi to stand in as Alexa, and she swoons inside, feeling like a princess, the
most beautiful girl ever, as her adopted brothers and sisters approach her from
every aisle, their smiles as wide as the Atlantic, singing:
You're beautiful. You're
beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's
true.
Sumi blushes every time, the ghastly scar
covering the entire right side of her face brightening, masking the cruelty
that placed it there, allowing her to feel something she seldom feels.
Beautiful.
To
be continued …
