The Tuesday
I was close to physical insanity, sweating and feeling that high fever slowly consuming my body. It was a very sizzling Tuesday, a rather highly humid and long one. One I would love to pass quickly although I knew very well that Wednesday’s weather would not escort me to an elevated bliss.
I only fancy the tropics for its fresh coconuts, heavenly ocean breeze, and the satisfaction of wearing a two piece bikini while staring at hot tanned bodies with a bit of sunburned hair and friendly mannerism. In other words,
Bali . Outside of that, I am afraid my tolerance has been quite a weak thread.
I’ve abused my so-called power breathing in places I’ve failed to retrieve Absolute contentment. Oh, Brahma, forgive me.
I plainly miss any simple minus ten snowy winters. I miss my black high boots and long leather coat. And of course, those light colored sexy turtle necks. Oh, I yearn for my uninterrupted and prosperous health!
My two weeks on and off sickness had reached its toll. I take after my mother in that sense, dwelling in headaches and physical fatigue as a cause of the overly damp air while everyone bloomed in precariousness under the scorching sun. My mother and I blossom in utmost beauty (I’d like to call it) only in breezy to chilly weather conditions. Seriously.
Lunch hour was finished and I thanked whatever Divinity out there that my lessons for the day were over. Taking a seat in front of the computer in the library where a fourth grade class held their extremely quiet math lesson, I felt an uplifting relief. Thank you Silence, I whispered. Sipping apple juice and few headache pills, I slouched just to close my eyes a bit.
I miss my love. He’s scheduled to arrive Friday and my patience is wearing thin – again, a much weakened thread. Oh, perhaps my sickness would be bygones at his arrival.
I received a text message from him, asking me if I was still at school. I smiled and opened my chat room immediately, waiting for his greeting – a routine I forced myself to grow accustomed to considering there’s only a few countries and oceans sitting between us. I grew restless waiting and wondering why he was taking longer than usual. Thus, I dashed out to my own office and grab tissues to accommodate my irritating runny nose.
I saw a ‘miscall’ on my phone as I returned, blowing my nose frantically. My weariness was accompanied by annoyance. I didn’t understand his miscall as he’s never done so before. If he wanted something, he would’ve been online yapping his heart out to me. If he couldn’t chat, he would usually send off a text message and call me in the evenings. His ‘miscall’ was slightly irregular.
“I need you outside at the school gate now. Can you come out?” A message suddenly appeared. I groaned, sneezed then coughed some more.
If it was another one of his flower or chocolate deliveries from
Japan , couldn’t the delivery boy walk up one floor and hand it them to me?!
I walked out of the library wishing for a nice bed underneath my fragile body. Leaning on the rail of the second floor I gazed out at the school’s front gate and observed an empty street. No flower delivery.
“Sita, look!” Teacher Pao appeared and grabbed my shoulders. She pointed to the school gate and again, I saw a few motorcycles running by and a man sitting under a tree across the street. Nothing out of the ordinary and still, no flower delivery.
“Go, go down and go out of the gate!” She pushed me. I grunted lazily walking down the stairs toward the gate cursing at the overly generous sun and my uncooperative pathetic body. The street was vacant as I glanced back and forth from one direction to the other.
“Sita!” Shouted a man’s voice. I took my eyes to a fine figure walking slowly toward me crossing the street. His light brown blonde streaked hair shone under the sun as the warmest smile decorated his face. Sweats trickled down the side of his face, down to his neck and into the collar of his white Polo shirt. At an instant, my body melted as I fell back on the gate’s wall with tears racing down my cheeks.
The man embraced me tightly as I breathed in his body scent. Words didn’t bother to fill up my lips as they were no match to the erupted passion queuing in my throat. He grabbed my hand walking me slowly back across the street to a bench under a tree. My eyes wondered from his small duffle bag to a bouquet of fresh white roses.
“For you,” He whispered kissing my forehead. I buried my face in the petals and allowed more tears.
“What are you doing here!?” I felt a bit bothered at the unscheduled surprise feeling very German-ly stiff that way. Yet there was a luminous striking sensation within, one I failed to delineate at that very moment.
“I can’t wait for Friday.” He answered with a smile glued to his sweet face.
I squinted straight at the sweltering sun from under the tree, making an immediate decision to stop being so contemptuous towards it. I ran my fingers through the white petals feeling its meticulous virginity before inviting my gaze to the man who gave them to me. Then I defined that ongoing enigma inside my head. Standing before me with what I distinguished to be undying love from his hazel eyes, was the man I knew I’d spend the rest of my life with. The man who was willing to shower me that Absolute contentment.
Oh, Brahma, thank you.
