A Love Story
“All alone I didn’t like the feeling
All alone, I sat and cried
All alone I had to find some meaning
In the center of the pain I felt
inside.
“All alone I came into this world
All alone I will someday die
Solid stone is just sand and water, baby
Sand and water and a million years
gone by.”
---Sand and Water, by Beth Nielsen
Chapman.
Chicago, 1980
”Do you have to go?”
“I do. They need me,” Sophie
explained, wiping tears away from her eyes.
“They could get someone else,” John
suggested, making on furtive attempt to keep her from leaving.
“I promised.”
“Final boarding call for flight 6039
to New York City.”
“I’ve got to go.”
“What if I never see you again?”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll be back at the
end of the summer, just you watch,” Sophie promised.
“I love you.”
“Me too. I’ll love you forever.”
Zaire, 1986
“Le vol
1902 arrive maintenant de Copenhague.” The flight was announced. The flight
that was bringing him to a place he had been before. It was never supposed to happen like this. John Stevens knew
this. He never would have dreamed that he would be in this particular airport,
on this particular day, for this particular reason. He didn’t even know why he
was here.
It was
hot. Hot and humid in the airport, and a wet, hot wind blew in through the
building. Everywhere people yelled in French, Swahili, Afrikaans, and other
native languages. Some chickens ran through the place yelling and adding to the
overall chaotic atmosphere. How could Sophie leave Chicago for...this? He
wondered. Outside, more people hurried by – Black and Caucasian – and cars
sputtered by. The sun was high overhead, and was a sickly yellow color due to
pollution. The smog produced a thick, overbearing blanket. Boys led cows
through the streets, and still more chickens ran loose. Women dressed in
sarongs made of colorful native patterns strolled the streets precariously
balancing wide basins on their heads. Vendors called out to onlookers, urging
them to purchase their wares and arguing over prices. Young prostitutes tried
to seduce men on their way home after work.
“Pourriez-vous
épargner un franc ou deux pour un leper faible, monsieur?” a decrepit man
asked, holding out a battered tin cup to John and shaking it a bit as if to
insist on a tad of money.
John frowned and backed away. “Uh, I don’t have anything,”
he muttered and turned the other way
************************
“Someone to see you, Doctor Collins,” Kubote, a nurse,
said as she stuck her head into the doctor’s office.
Doctor Sophia Collins smiled. “Tell him he can come in,”
she said.
Kubote nodded quickly and left the room. Soon, John had
appeared in Kubote’s vacated spot.
“John!” Sophia exclaimed, her voice filled with
astonishment and her face wore a look of shock. “What brings you to Zaire?” she
asked.
“You,” he responded calmly, as if he had rehearsed this a
thousand times. He had.
“Oh god John, that was six years ago. You don’t honestly
think we can go back there now do you? I mean look at me!”
“I am. And what I see is a young woman who hasn’t changed
one bit since 1980.” He studied her. Her dark hair was cut neatly just below
the ears. Her soft complexion was tanned. Her bright blue eyes still glittered
with vigorously.
She sighed lightly, running her hands through her bangs.
“People change John, that’s a fact,” she said softly.
“Are you married?” he asked suddenly.
Sophia was taken aback by the question. “No.”
“Dating?”
“No. What are you getting at?”
“You’re available,” John commented.
“I left Chicago six years ago, and I am not going
back,” Sophia said stubbornly.
“Why? What is so horrible about Chicago? Or the United
States for that matter?” John questioned.
“Look, there are hardly any doctors here. They need me.”
“How can you stand living in this god-forsaken shit hole?”
“I love my work. That is what makes it all worthwhile.”
“Do you miss it? The US I mean?”
“Sometimes,” Sophia sighed. “Sometimes.”
“Did you ever miss me?”
“Yeah, I did for awhile.”
“So why’d you leave me?”
“Me?” Sophia glared at him. She had never been able to
control her temper and she felt it begin to rise. She didn’t care. She wanted
to give John a piece of her mind. “Me? I did come back over the summer. And
what do I get? You’re with that whore! So I came back here and never looked
back.”
John glowered at Sophia. “I was wrong about you,” he said
icily, and getting up, walked from the room.
************************
Sophia sat at her vanity peering into the mirror. She was
reasonably disgruntled that John had come to Zaire demanding they start seeing
each other again. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him; it was just that she
didn’t want to get involved in another love affair. Over the past six years she
had had so many. There was the Bosnian doctor, the British PA, the Romanian
EMT. Yet no one had stayed. Endless nights of meaningless sex. It was like she
was there as a distraction. Something to remind these people that there was a
civilized world out there. A toy. And what happens to all toys sooner or later?
They get discarded. Tossed aside when something – or someone – who was more
interesting came along. She didn’t think she could open up to someone again.
She didn’t want to open up to anyone ever again. Sure, she had been with John
once, but now… Well, she couldn’t risk him cheating on her again.
************************
John sat sullenly in a bar. He hated Zaire. He hadn’t
heard anyone speak English aside from Sophie. He couldn’t even order himself
some gin because he couldn’t speak French. He also hated himself. For coming
here. For actually thinking that Sophie would take him back. And he didn’t
blame her when she said that she wouldn’t. He sighed and got up, wandering back
to his hotel. Tomorrow he would go back to Chicago, no better or worse than
when he came.
************************
“John!”
John looked down from the small balcony at his hotel.
“Sophie?” he asked, in shock.
“The one and only.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
Sophia shrugged. “I thought I’d come by and say
goodnight!”
“That was thoughtful.”
“I was thinking, are you ‘attached’ right now?”
“No,” John said, a smile flickering on his lips. “Why do
you ask?”
“I don’t know. Well, I have to be on my way. Big day
tomorrow, ya know,” Sophia explained. “I just wanted to say hi.”
“Bye.”
Sophia began to walk away, but decided against it. “I’m sorry,”
she yelled.
“What?”
“I’m sorry!” she yelled, even louder. “I’ll miss you,” she
added to herself.
John smiled. “Goodnight Sophie,” he whispered to the wind.
************************
“Excuse me, pardon me, excuse me,” Sophia said as she
hurried through the airport. Her present condition of running through the
airport reminded her of a movie she once saw, though she couldn’t remember
which one. People yelled out profanities as she ran past them, but she really
didn’t care. She got to the flight deck at the United Airlines.
“May I help you?”
“Uh, yeah. You have tickets to Chicago for Sophia Collins,
right?”
“Yes, may I see your ID.”
Considering this process a very crazy one, Sophia handed
the attendant her driver’s license, and waited tapping he foot nervously.
“Could you hurry, this flight is about to leave?” she asked.
“Here are your tickets, Doctor Collins, enjoy the flight.”
Sophia nodded and boarded the plane. She sat down next to
John. “Hi.”
He turned to glance at her. “Sophie!” he exclaimed. “Why
are you here?”
She smiled. “I thought I might have to see the Sears Tower
again before I turn thirty,” she explained, knowing John would catch the true
meaning of her trip to Chicago.
John smiled too and settled in for the long trip to
Copenhagen.
*El Fin*
(The End)