THE TRIP
Desheng Zong
Retuning to his hotel suite after seeing out the night�s last visitor - an editor from a medical journal - Dr. Kai leaned back against the door as he shut it with his back. He was feeling exhausted.
Due perhaps largely to his reputation in the region�s cardiological circle and partly to his giving the keynote speech, ever since he arrived in this northern city three days ago for the bi-annual regional cardiology conference, he had found himself to be one of the most sought after persons, occupied by various official and non-official matters. It seemed that Dr. Kai was a person everyone knew of and could easily recognize. Whether it was in the hotel lobbies, the elevators, or the hotel�s dining halls, total strangers would come up to him and greet him. The situation was pretty much the same at group meetings that he co-chaired. It had happened on more than one occasion that, as soon as a session was over, members of the audience would immediately come to the front to greet him and introduce themselves, leaving the speakers in a rather awkward situation.
All this was happening in spite of his limited official duties at this year�s conference. Unlike previous years, he was given only a limited amount of work this time, which included serving on the conference�s honorary committee, delivering one of the key-note speeches at the conference�s opening ceremony, and jointly chairing a few group meeting sessions - in no way a demanding schedule at all compared to what he normally did on occasions like this.
An energetic man who loved to work all his life, he had enjoyed the challenge of his profession and had always handled such occasions with enthusiasm and efficiency; fatigue of this nature had largely been an unknown to him - up until his arrival at this conference that is. The tiredness that he had been experiencing for the past several days seemed to be unrelated to his bodily condition, which was nothing but excellent; rather, it was a fatigue of different kind, one that ran deep and was much more worrisome. In addition, he also had a mild but very persistent headache. Like the fatigue, the headache seemed to have all started shortly after he left home for the city; it felt more like a nuisance than a real problem when he just arrived in the city, but by the time he delivered the keynote speech it had become something that started to hinder his routine activities at the conference.
Except for a dull noise that seemed to be coming from the utility room in the adjacent suite, the luxuriously furnished sixth floor suite was quiet. As he raised his head after the initial fit of dizziness was gone and started to make his way toward the living room, he realized that he had been in suit and tie since he got up in the morning, and the stiff clothes now seemed to be wearing him down. What he most needed at this moment, he felt, was to change into something more comfortable, and get some rest perhaps.
Though the fatigue lessened somewhat after the shower, the headache and the fuzziness continued. As he came into the living room it occurred to him that he had not phoned home for the past two nights, which was very untypical of him, and he knew his wife must be very worried by now.
But as he sat down at the edge of the bed, the thought of phoning his wife somehow slipped from his mind. The forgetfulness also seemed to be a very recent thing, and on this night it got only worse.
He got up after a while and walked to the window. It was only about eight o�clock; the night sky outside was unusually dark but clear - probably due to the cold. From the window he could see the streets down below, dotted with dim and flickering lights. Perhaps it�s still not too late for a walk, he thought. A short stroll in the cold would definitely do his headache some good.
The thought immediately dispersed some of the haziness that had shrouded his head all evening; it also brought about a discernible thrust of energy bursting through his tired body. He got up and started to put on the casual wear his wife had prepared for him for this type of occasion. While he was getting dressed he thought of the graduate student who had accompanied him to the conference. Perhaps he could go ask the young man if he would like to join him in the walk.
An enclosed footbridge connected the hotel�s suite section to the economy section where the graduate student was staying. While waiting for the elevator in the empty hallway he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the large mirror next to the flower table. There in the mirror was the face he saw everyday; but instead of the familiar sleek looks of a successful professional that he had become used to seeing, the image he saw on this night was one with clear signs of aging: strains of gray hair, receding hairline, and wrinkles in the corners of the slightly puffed eyes.
He was still in a contemplative mood when he reached the room of the student. He waited after having knocked on the door a few times. In the hallway there was a strong smell of cigarettes mixed with the odor of cheap carpeting.
Apparently the room had more than one person in it; standing by the door he could hear the heated voices of several people arguing about something.
Presently the door opened, and the head of a person stuck partly out from behind the door. It was the face of a young man with tousled hair and a few thinly scattered unshaven facial hairs on the chin. The noise in the room also stopped momentarily as the door opened.
�Professor Kai!� exclaimed the young man, and immediately flung the door wide open. �Please come in! What could have brought you��
The young man - his face red and his voice stuttering � was in a flutter. A visit from his own graduate advisor, the famous cardiologist, was apparently the last thing the poor fellow had expected.
�I was stopping by to see if you would be interested in going out for a walk with me,� he explained.
�Certainly,� the young man blurted. �Absolutely! Just give me a moment to change��
Although seeing young students fluster in front of him was something he had grown quite used to lately, for a brief moment he felt a bit sorry for this young student of his. �Poor fellow!� he thought, and wondered if this had always been how his students felt when in his presence. There was something in the young man�s reaction that made him think of his own years as a student � a feeling he had not had for quite a long time.
The early autumn air outside was almost too chilly for someone who had grown used to the mild southern climate; it felt like plunging into icy water the moment they stepped outside the hotel. But the cold, crisp night air had an instant soothing impact on his headache and the fuzziness was almost immediately gone.
The hotel, a joint venture of the Regional Railroad Bureau and an overseas partner, was located in the hub of the downtown area.
�Are you familiar with the city?� he asked the graduate student as they went down the steps leading to the street. �You are from the north, aren�t you?�
�Indeed I am, professor,� the young man answered apologetically. �But I�m afraid I know little about the city. I�d been here once or twice before at a much younger age with my parents, but there seem to be so many changes in the city lately I can hardly tell my way. Has the professor been here before?�
�No,� said he inattentively. �This is my first time here.�
Following the street they first came upon, the two walked at a leisurely pace while carrying on an intermittent conversation, but it soon became clear to the two that they had been walking in the direction leading away from downtown. Realizing their situation, the two promptly turned around and started to walk up a street at the student�s suggestion.
They soon came across an outdoor street food court located on a side street not far from the hotel. There were about a dozen or so food vendors selling noodle soups and lamb kabob.
�How about joining me for a drink or two?� he asked.
�Splendid!� the student answered immediately, but after taking a glance at the rather dubious surroundings of the place he hesitated: �I only hope the professor would not mind��
�No, not at all,� he said. �I find this place quite suitable for a night like this; indeed I�m quite happy that you took me here.�
After picking a table in a well-lit spot the two sat down, ordered a few dishes and a jug of wine and carried on a conversation as they waited for their order to arrive.
There was something about this untidy market that made him feel quite at home on this night. He was also happy and thought it was fortuitous that he had changed into the casual wear before he left the hotel; the custom-made expensive suit would have made him conspicuous here.
Soon the vendor brought them the items they had ordered: a dish of boiled peanuts, several roasted dried fish, and a bottle of rice wine. The peanuts, or the poor man�s drinking dish as they used to call it when he was a student, were something he had not tasted for a long time. The liquor was of a very cheap kind and tasted bitter and harsh in the mouth; but on this chilly night in the open it produced a stream of warmth that ran deep inside with every sip. The taste of the wine and the salty peanuts caused an almost nostalgic feeling in him about the days when he was an obscure resident working in a large hospital.
�Are you married?� he asked the student.
�Not yet, professor,� answered the young man, and blushed. �My girlfriend and I have been dating for several years, but marriage is still out of the question since we do not yet have a place suitable for establishing a family.�
�Hasn�t our hospital just completed some apartment buildings for faculty and staff?�
�That�s right, professor,� said the young man. �But all new buildings are commercial housing now, and since we are only graduate students we are unable to afford to buy a flat.�
�Oh,� he muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed by his ignorance.
It had been quite sometime since he was a resident himself, a period of his life about which he had quite forgotten. About two decades ago, when he first started, his situation was not much different from that of the young man who was now sitting across the table; and he had most likely looked much like the young man in appearance as well - unkempt hair, humbled looks, and cheap suit and tie with crumples. For close to three years he shared a small apartment with three other graduate students, commuted between the dorm and the hospital by bike, and hardly had spare time to meet the girl who was later to become his wife. But he worked hard. He worked all shifts, carried out research, and put all he had into his work. All these efforts eventually paid off. Under the guidance of his late teacher - a nationally known cardiologist who had passed away only recently - he successfully performed the first case in the nation of a type of difficult cardiatric surgery and won himself fame almost overnight. Following this success he was sent overseas and spent two years as a visiting physician in New York at a hospital famous for its advanced cardiological technology and expertise. Upon returning home from abroad he received several state research grants, and he was also invited to serve on the editorial board of a well-respected cardiological journal. Since then his career had been nothing but smooth sailing.
As the two started to head back to the hotel the student asked him if he was going to participate in the organized tour the next day.
�What organized tour?� he asked inattentively.
�Does the professor not know?� said the young man. �The conference is organizing a tour tomorrow to Eastern Lakes; the tour is free for all conference participants.�
He remembered seeing something of that sort in the conference programs schedule, but at the time had paid no attention to the time of the tour, or the place where it was going to be.
�I�ve heard people say that the place is a recently developed site,� the young man said. �The province probably spent millions in making it a first-rate tourist attraction��
�Is that so�� he mumbled, but quickly sank back into his own thought.
After saying good night to the student upon returning to the hotel he headed toward the elevator, and for a second time that night thought of the phone call to his wife he should have made.
He had brought for this trip a manuscript the cardiological journal had asked him to review, and had planned to go over it that night. But when he tried to read it after having gotten in bed he discovered that he was in no working mood, and so had to put it down.
Sitting in bed with his head lowered and hands crossed, he was temporarily lost in thoughts. The walk with the student earlier had brought back some deeply buried memories, and yet there was no clear order in the images and thoughts that now jammed his already tangled up mind.
Among the things that kept returning to his mind was the organized tour the next day. The very mention of the tour by the young man had made him think of something he knew was right there, and yet in his currently bemused mental condition he could not recall what it was, and he seemed to make it worse every time he tried.
It was close to midnight when he decided to go to sleep. He had been sitting in bed for a long while; the fatigue and headache had returned.
He switched off all the lights after setting the clock. The room immediately sank into pitch darkness. But no sleep came for a long time. Gradually, as the eyes became used to the dark, the contours of the room, the furniture, and the paintings on the wall start to emerge in the silk-like darkness; even the noise from the utility room had returned.
He remained motionless in the dark, and did not know for how long time elapsed. Then, just as he was on the verge of slipping into sleep, the thing he had tried hard to recall all night suddenly appeared in front of his eyes, in all its vividness.
It was a small, oval-shaped lake with cloudy gray sky hanging low overhead; and there was in the air a curious and inexplicable feeling of sadness. Light gray colored and gently descending sandy shores surrounded the small pool of water in the center of the concave; standing ominously in the background of the sandy shoreline on the left was a stretch of dark green pine trees.
A figure on the left bank where the trees stood - a young woman who reminded him of his own little sister and who had her head lowered and eyes on the ground - was slowly walking on the sandy shore and coming seemingly in his direction.
It was a scene he once saw in a dream but had since forgotten; he now also remembered when that was: it had occurred on the eve of his first day on the job and just days after the departure of a college friend.
The day started sunny but chilly. As he was walking to the hotel�s dinning hall on the first floor for breakfast he ran into a cardio-vascular physician whom he had met several years ago at the New York hospital. The two chatted for a few minutes in the hallway. This was the first time they had seen each other since returning from abroad.
The breakfast service had been under way for sometime when the two walked in; some had finished and were already on their way out. Dr. Kai and his colleague joined a few other latecomers at a table where he had been eating meals for the past three days. Most of the people at the table � including the physician he had just run into -- quickly finished their meals and left, apparently trying to catch the three huge tour buses parked just outside the hotel; the rumble caused by the engines of the buses could be felt from where he was sitting.
Before he knew it, he had become the only diner at the table.
Presently several young waitresses came out from a swinging door to clear the tables. The one coming to his corner was a girl who had served this part of the hall in the past several days at almost every meal and had become sort of an acquaintance with Dr. Kai. The two had exchanged brief greetings on earlier occasions.
The girl, who was nimble and diligent in her work but rarely smiling, carried herself in a restrained but gracious way. She had clear eyes, a thin but full and round face that had a healthy flush, and she tied her rich hair in one short and tight braid on the back of her head.
�Good morning, Doctor!� said the girl softly while keeping her eyes low when she came to clean the adjacent tables. �Please take your time.�
�Good morning!� he said, and, strangely, felt moved by her greeting.
�Isn�t the doctor going with the rest to the resort?� she asked.
�I�m skipping the tour,� he said. �Somehow I do not feel like going; besides, I have a few things that need to be taken care of before I leave the city.�
She was at that moment leaning over a table trying to reach some dishes. �You will not miss it very much if you do not go,� she said. �The place is probably crowded on a weekend like this.�
The girl started to push her filled cart toward the swinging door. After she was gone he made an effort to finish the food despite his poor appetite.
The girl returned with her emptied cart not long after he finished his meal.
�I hope the doctor enjoyed the meal,� she said, and started to pick up the dishes on his table.
�Yes, thank you,� he said, not really thinking what he was saying.
�Is the doctor leaving the city soon?� she asked.
�I�m leaving tomorrow,� he said.
He watched as she pulled off the tablecloth and proceeded to fold it. At that moment he thought of something, and thought he might as well ask the girl about it.
�I�m planning to make a trip to the Railroad Hospital this afternoon,� he said. �To pay a visit to someone there. Do you by chance know how to get there?�
�Yes,� she answered. �I know it well.�
She wiped her hands on the tablecloth a couple of times.
�I could write down the directions for you,� she said.
He handed her his pen and pocket schedule book.
She sat down next to him at the table and started to draw a map with signs of bus stops and numbers. �May I ask whom you plan to visit?� she asked without raising her head. �I know the hospital well; perhaps I could��
He told her the name.
The girl did not respond but continued until she finished the map. Standing up, she handed back to him the pocket book and the pen.
�The person you wanted to visit,� said the girl slowly but curtly. �She was my late mother.�
He was astonished.
�Did you mean�� he found his voice trailing off half way.
�Yes,� she said, not showing any sign of disturbance on her face. �She passed away a few years ago.�
He was speechless for a long period of time.
Seeing him respond to her answer in this unusual way, she asked, hesitantly:
�Was there any particular reason you wanted to see mother?�
She lowered her eyes as soon as she finished.
�No,� he muttered. �Yes� I mean.�
He was still in shock, and could not continue for a brief moment.
�She was a good friend,� he uttered the words with difficulty. �We met while in college. I had not seen her since she left college.�
He raised his head to look at her. He now understood why she had given him a sense of familiarity and why in the past several days he had always had a strange feeling of affinity to her, as if they had met somewhere before. The thin but full and round face, the very light eyebrows, the clear eyes, and the restrained but gracious posture in which she carried herself, all this showed great resemblance to the person he knew many years ago.
�I�m deeply saddened,� he said. �I�m� I don�t know how��
She remained silent.
�Thank you for your kindness, Doctor,� she said after a while. �But I must go now.�
He was in a very confused state of mind after coming out of the dinning hall, and was at a loss about what to do next. There now seemed to be no reason for making the trip to the hospital as he had originally planned, but neither was he feeling like going back to his hotel suite. The real significance of the news had just begun to bear down on him.
He took a sofa in a corner of the now empty and quiet lobby and sat down. There were too many things going on in his head, and he needed to sort them out, if just to get a clear idea of what he had to do next. All his life he had been a person who always knew what he had to do, and a goal-less condition of this type was not something he was used to.
Later a person approached him. It was the girl. Apparently she was on her way out and was no longer in her hotel uniform. She had on a dark colored sweater and carried her gray overcoat in one hand and a handbag in the other. She was so quiet when she approached him that he hardly noticed her until she was already by his side.
�Doctor,� she said softly.
�It�s you!� he said, and was very pleased. Apparently he had not expected to see her again. �Please have a seat.�
The girl took the nearby sofa and sat down, her overcoat in her lap.
Though hesitant in the beginning, he eventually raised the unavoidable question.
�I hope you would not think I�m being inquisitive,� he started. �But, being a doctor myself and a friend of your late mother, I would like to know how it happened. Would you mind telling me something about it?�
�Not at all, Doctor,� said she, her voice soft but calm. �About five years ago, or three years prior to her passing away, mother discovered a lump in her breast. Hospital examinations showed that it was cancer. She immediately made the decision to have a mastectomy as well as radiation therapy and chemo treatments��
He subconsciously nodded his head several times when he heard that, as if showing his approval of his friend�s quick and correct - in his view - decisions.
�But a year later,� the girl continued. �A bone scan revealed that her cancer had recurred and spread into her bone marrow. A transplant was performed half year later and she remained cancer free for five months. She resumed routine household work, and even helped me with my schoolwork. We found out shortly later that it had reoccurred. She died not long after that. But she was calm from the beginning to the end. At her suggestion the family took a vacation at a beach resort, and we had fond memories of this final period of her life.�
The two chatted about a few other things after the difficult topic was over, about the city, and her job at the hotel. She took a look at her watch after a while and told him that she had to leave.
�I remember you telling me that you were not leaving until tomorrow,� she said.
He nodded his head.
�In this late season there are not many places to go to around here,� she said. �But there is one place you could perhaps go for the afternoon. The place is called �Black Pine Woods�; there are still a lot of green trees there at this time of the year. It is not far from the city and attracts few tourists.�
She handed him a folded piece of paper.
�To get there you need to take the suburban bus,� she said. �Here are the directions.�
He looked at her gratefully as they shook hands.
The girl walked across the hotel lobby toward the revolving door, and soon disappeared in the street, leaving him standing by the seat with a dazed look on his face.
He returned to his hotel suite briefly not long after the girl left to retrieve some clothes; he had decided to get out of the hotel for the afternoon and go somewhere, albeit not knowing where he would be going.
It was a partly sunny autumn day outside. Though the weather was still a bit on the chilly side, the return of the clouds suggested a mild day ahead.
While walking in the streets he came across a bus stop and caught a glimpse of the name of the hospital on the itinerary posted on a bus stop plate. Not particularly knowing what he was doing, he got behind the waiting passengers and boarded the bus.
He could still recall their first encounter. It was on a late August day. He was on his way to report to the medical school as a graduate student. The admission letter had indicated that there would be a welcome post at the train station for new students. Naturally the first thing he did as he came out of the train station was to look for his school�s welcome center.
It was an unusually hot autumn day; the loud chirping of cicadas in the maple trees along the streets added to the drowsiness already hanging heavy in the afternoon air.
It did not take him long to spot the overhead banner with their school�s name. She was the only person there. Sitting at the table under the beach umbrella with her head resting on the bare arm on the desk and her eyes slightly narrowed in the bright sunlight, she looked very young and her thin but full and round face showed a healthy flush. She wore a short sleeve shirt of very light color, perhaps light blue, or light pink, or perhaps white.
Not expecting to see anyone at that moment, she looked startled when he appeared at the desk.
�Welcome to our school!� she quickly recovered from the surprise and rose from her chair. �Please excuse the lack of support here; we had fewer arrivals in the last couple of hours, so my co-workers all went to cool off in the shopping center nearby...�
While waiting for the school�s shuttle bus to arrive the two chatted a bit. She told him that she was an undergraduate student in her third year at the college and said that the few others who were also in charge of the welcome post on that day were also undergraduates from the same department.
The shuttle arrived soon after her returning colleagues had helped him retrieve his luggage. As the bus started to drive off and the students sank back in their chairs, she waved good-by to him. Even now he could still recall the image of her on that hot summer day � a relaxed young girl sitting under a beach umbrella with her head resting in her hand.
He was the only passenger to get off the bus at the hospital. In his twenty-year career as a physician he had visited many hospitals, and to him they all looked more or less the same. This one was no exception. As soon as he passed the cedar trees at the entrance, the main building of the hospital came into view � it was a newly constructed white colored ten-story building. There were also a few smaller buildings by the sides of the new building, but their rusty look indicated that they were relics of a by-gone era.
A map in the main hall of the new building indicated that the liver and spleen division was located on the 7th floor. He remembered that she once told him that she was a specialist in that division. Luckily, before he stepped into the elevator, someone told him that the new building had been in use for only two years. �The liver and spleen division used to be located in the yellow building to the right of the new building,� the same person also told him.
A footpath with lawns on both sides linked the two buildings. As he walked he thought more of his college years.
The second time he met her was at the beginning of the spring semester on a train. He was on his way back from a trip to Beijing, a trip he sometimes took on behalf of his graduate advisor. She was on her way back to the university after the winter break.
She recognized him and the two had a chat on the train, mostly about schoolwork and campus life.
The trip took about an hour, a very short one compared to the ones he used to take when he traveled home for vacations. After the train arrived she ran into a friend of hers on the platform, and they parted there as the other person started to speak to her.
He had thought of calling on her after that encounter on the train, but the many exams he had to take that semester and some other things that turned up later prevented him from making the visit. He was not able to see her until the fall term began, when the two finally started to see each other with some regularity. They went to a few movies in town, and visited a large book exhibition at a museum, sponsored by Cambridge University Press. It was at this exhibition that he first learned about some advanced studies in cardiology.
She was a rather reserved and modest person and carried herself with poise, which was a remarkable thing given her youth. He could not deny to himself that he was gradually becoming emotionally attached to her.
Then many things kept him busy and they did not see each other for some time. But as soon as the hectic period was over he went to see her, believing that he had collected enough bravery to tell her his true feelings. He waited for her outside her dorm under a silk tree as the doorkeeper of the dorm went to deliver the message. It was late May and the silk tree was in blossom.
�Our commencement is one week from now,� she told him that afternoon.
�Commencement!� he exclaimed. �Heavens! How could I have forgotten that you are graduating this summer! �
�I�ll be returning to the city I come from,� she said calmly. �I have been assigned a job at the regional railroad hospital.�
On the day she left the city he went to see her off. A few of her friends were also there for the same purpose. And that was the last time he saw her.
Resting in the peaceful surroundings of evergreens, the yellow two-story building appeared to have just been refurbished very recently and was empty. A sign by the entrance indicated that the hospital was planning to use the building as its rehab center.
The building appeared to be something erected in an era - most likely the fifties - when the tasteless concern of the later years about functionality had not become the dominant philosophy of architecture; it was a fine example of how functional and stylish elements could be artfully combined to produce something of unassuming beauty.
It was extremely quiet inside the building. Slowly he walked the halls, treaded the dead ends, and climbed the deserted staircases. His footsteps echoed in the empty hallways. Everything here, the worn-out cement floor, the plaster walls that apparently had undergone multiple refurbishing efforts, even the faded paint on the battered doors and windows, all told a tale of bygone days when life and death, weal and woe, and the wax and wane of the stream of humanity were part and parcel of the daily goings-on here.
Slowly he sank on a bench in the main lobby after coming down the main staircase.
So this was where she spent every day of the last fifteen years in her brief life. The many doors, stairs, and hallways were still here, intact, resting in silence, but where was the person who once used them? And where were the hands that once turned these doorknobs? When the building was still in use, the hallway where he now sat and pondered must have been a very busy place, full of continuous foot traffic day and night. Even now, he seemed to be able to hear the echoes of the footsteps that once filled the hallways. Of the many footsteps - there could be little doubt - some had to be hers, and he knew which ones they were - the soft, light, and silent ones, like the person who left them. And if she were to suddenly appear at this moment from the other end of the footpath outside, or if she were to appear on the staircase leading to the doors, he would immediately recognize her. And this time, he knew, there would be no hesitation � he would rise, proceed to open the doors, and meet her halfway on the footpath outside, just as he had done on the day twenty years ago at the train station.
It was still early when he came out of the hospital�s main entrance. While he waited for the bus, he thought of the note the girl had given him at the hotel. Perhaps there was still time to make the trip to the park she had suggested to him; there was nothing particular that he had to do that afternoon anyway.
In less than half an hour he had already boarded a bus at the suburban bus station. The two-car bus departed soon after that; it was almost empty for the most part of the forty-five minute ride.
The line�s final stop looked like the middle of nowhere; the highway seemed also to end here. At the end of the road he saw an ornamental structure of brick with the words �Black Pine Woods� inscribed on it�s cement face. As if reminded by the sign, he took a quick look at the surrounding areas, but the survey failed to reveal anything that might resemble a park.
�I�m looking for Black Pine Woods,� he asked a man waiting to get on the in-bound bus. �Could you tell me where it is?�
�This is Black Pine Woods,� said the man, pointing at the bus stop.
�No, no,� he explained. �I mean a park, one that has perhaps pine trees and ��
�Never heard of such a thing,� said the man. �But if you are looking for pine trees you might be able to find some over there.�
The man made a gesture. As he looked in the direction the man was pointing he saw a few small rolling hills, located on the other end of a stretch of newly harvested crop fields. Most of the trees on the hillsides were bare, but in the mostly brown hilly landscape a few dark green spots were vaguely visible in the valley in the back of the hills.
He thanked the man. The green dots might just as well be the pine trees, he thought. The bus was about to depart for its return trip, and he was not sure if he should venture into the hills or just go back to the city.
It took him only a brief second to decide what to do. He had nothing to lose if there turned out to be no park here. At the most it meant he took a stroll in the field, which was not necessarily a bad thing; the weather was mild, even a bit warm for this time of the year, and the scent of open field smelled enticing, the fresh country air seemed to be able to penetrate the lungs and the body every time one inhaled. It wouldn�t be long before this land would be ruled by harsh winter cold. But even if the hills were unsuitable for a stroll, in forty-five minutes there would be another bus arriving, and he would have no problem getting back to town in time for the evening reception.
The dirt path that ran across the crop field felt soft under the foot, and he soon started to feel relaxed in the solitary walk.
He had finished his graduate studies a year and became a resident at the college�s own teaching hospital after she returned to her home city. The thing he regretted the most in the early days on the job was the missed opportunities. He had failed to tell his now deceased friend his true feelings about her while they both were still in college. He now believed the failure was mainly due to his lack of courage.
The first time he told her his feelings about her was in his first letter to her after she had returned to her home city. She was gracious and appreciative in her reply, but was silent about his passionate plea. He was initially feeling hurt, and thought she was being unreasonable. It was only later that he began to understand her better, at a time when the reality started to set in. Given their situations, there was no way they could get together. But if there were no hopes of bringing together two persons living in two separate places pursuing their own careers, letters alone would not be enough to sustain the passion.
Though the correspondence continued for sometime, as time went on and his career started to take off, the intervals between letters became longer. He also started to date the girl who was later to become his wife. Then on one winter day, he received a letter from her; it contained a snapshot of her, in uniform, and was taken probably in her workplace, somewhere near the yellow building he had visited that afternoon. �I am getting married in a couple of days,� she said in the letter.
Perhaps partly due to the walk and partly due to the unseasonably warm weather, he found himself slightly sweating when he reached the end of the crop field. As he stopped to catch his breath before resuming the walk, he took a look at the long, rectangle-shaped ascending slope that rose abruptly in front of him. It looked like the dam of a reservoir.
It occurred to him then that earlier the daughter of his college friend had mentioned a certain lake when she suggested this place to him. �This must be what she meant,� he thought as he started to climb the slope.
What coincidence! He thought about his encounter with the daughter. And how much she resembled her mother! She could be no more than eighteen or nineteen, and yet the restrained demeanor and the ability of her eyes to convey deeply buried emotions were unmistakably an inheritance from her mother.
The correspondence between him and his friend stopped sometime after she got married. By that time his relationship with his current wife had also become steady and the two were preparing their marriage as well. Then what happened after that was the life of a successful professional too busy, too occupied by work to have time for reflection. Though occasionally memories of her would still flash back, for a long time he thought he had already overcome the fleeting passions of a young man.
As he reached the top of the dam groups of clouds that had been blocking the sun now and then for the past several hours had joined forces; and this time they managed to shield the sun completely.
Immediately as he stepped on the flat top he felt a stream of cool breeze coming from the water surface some distance off. Under the low hanging clouds a shore of sand and small pebbles of light brown and white rolled gently down and ran for about a dozen yards until it reached the edge of the clear water.
He was happy that he had reached the top, and out of an almost childish joy of having conquered an obstacle he dashed down the descending sandy shores like a small child, not realizing what was unfolding in front him.
But the moment he reached the edge of the water and raised his head he suddenly froze, as if struck by an invisible force.
Lying in front of his eyes was the scene he once dreamed and had only recollected the night before -- a small, oval-shaped lake, surrounded by gently descending sandy shores of light brown on all sides except for the left, where a stretch of dark green pine trees rose in the back of the curving sandy shore line. Overhead, the cloudy gray sky hung low, and a light touch of sorrow permeated the solemn atmosphere.
Speechless, he remained standing on the sandy ground in the same posture as when he first stopped after running down the dam. Eons, it felt, had elapsed, before he was able to recover from the shock. With his dazed eyes fixed in the direction of the green background beneath the low-hanging gray sky, he started to slowly walk toward the further side, following the shore on the left.
He ran into several conference participants in the hotel lobby in the morning of departure while waiting for the airport shuttle bus. Most of those who greeted him left after a few brief exchanges of good will; a few congratulated him on his latest research, mentioned in his keynote speech, and expressed their wishes to have future exchange of views with him in their field. One person in particular � a female colleague and an old friend -- came up to him and, after taking a close look at him, asked if he was ill. His complexion did not look so well, she said.
He thanked the friend for her concern, but told her that he was fine. If he indeed looked ill, he thought, it was probably due to lack of sleep the night before. He went to the dinning hall that morning despite his poor appetite, hoping to say good-by to the girl. But she was not there; a different girl served the tables in his corner that morning.
The graduate student showed up in the lobby not long after the last friend left. The young man carried a briefcase and was still in the same black suit. He asked the student about the trip to the tourist resort the day before.
�The trip was fantastic, professor!� answered the student. �It is really a pity that you did not come with us. Eastern Lakes is actually a group of man-made lakes formed by a dam over Eastern River. We toured two of the larger lakes on a cruiser, and made a half-hour stop on a small isle in the middle of the larger lake. The all-fish banquet at lunch was excellent; there were close to twenty dishes, all made of different species of fish caught from the lakes��
At that moment the shuttle bus arrived.
�It�s our bus, professor!� said the young man.
The ride to the airport was smooth; there was no traffic jam on the way, and no news of flight delays when they arrived at the airport. In less than an hour they were airborne.
While the student fixed his eyes on the scenes below, seeming to be looking for something on the ground, the professor started to feel a fit of dizziness and a discomfort in his stomach. By the time the service cart was about to reach their seats the discomfort had worsened. He got up and quickly made his way to the end of the plane, and no sooner did he close the restroom door than he started to vomit; his stomach was churning as if in a cramp.
He caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the mirror after the initial violent reaction was over. The sallow face indeed looked awful. He thought of the remark the friend at the hotel made earlier that morning; she was certainly right about it.
Just at that moment the plane shook violently several times, as if it had been hit by a violent force. Immediately he heard the pilot�s warnings on the loud speakers. The plane was running into some unexpected turbulence.
If the plane were to go down - he could not help but think - that would be the end of it. And it would not be difficult to tell what would ensue should disaster strike - His position would be quickly filled, his patients change hands, and his research taken over by others. Perhaps there would be a mention of his name in the local evening news: �Famous cardiologist Dr. Kai among the victim,� and a funeral would be held - assuming his body could be identified that is. But what would he, Dr. Kai himself, go down with?
�I�ve definitely changed,� he mused as he was making his way back to the seat. In recent years he had been a frequent air traveler, and had experienced air emergencies on more than one occasion, and yet at no time had he felt the way he did on this day.
He put the seat in reclined position after returning to his place and leaned his head on the back of the seat. But just as he was starting to feel relaxed a sudden feeling of weightless state startled him and made him suddenly opened his eyes. Everything in the plane, however, appeared to be normal; his feeling that the plane was going down was merely an illusion. As he resumed the reclining position and closed his eyes the scene unexpectedly appeared once again - the small, oval-shaped lake, with a gray sky hung low overhead and the air filled with a light touch of sorrow. A stranger, silent, with her head lowered and her contemplative eyes on the ground, was slowly coming toward him.
* The End *
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