"Crying in the wind and reciting emotional poetry!" she corrected him, “And I can do it here."
"What?" could he have heard that correctly?
"I can converse with the breeze right here. Out loud, in fact. I have a poem I wrote on my phone…" she turned it over and tapped at the screen as she spoke to a horrified- looking Mark, “I love challenges, Mark. Best way to prove points, don’t you think?”
"Maybe… yeah," Mark looked around at the other tables, "But quietly of course. Or better still in the park, where there's no one to…" he stopped when she looked up at him sharply,
"To listen to me?” she was looking at him the way a grammar teacher would peer at a student too afraid to read their own work in front of the others; elbow on the table, head supported with two fingers at the temple, serious eyes regarding him with a slight hint of disappointment. “Mark, to live, you dare life. Don’t you sometimes…" she consulted her phone. "…yearn to be challenged?"
"I meant to say ‘no one to ridicule you’,” He wondered if it came out as hollow as it sounded in his own mind. Lisa regarded him closely,
"You look embarrassed at the very thought of it."
"It's not that, Lisa, but…" but it was, and the way she had accurately put it was evidenced by the sinking feeling in his stomach, while he wondered if he had ruined what could have been an otherwise good time. Would she stand up and huff off, disappointment written all over her beautiful face? Trust you Mark to ruin perfect moments, he chided himself mentally, challenging someone who was daring enough to ambush you in the bush! He had to salvage the situation, and if not all of it, at least to a point where her impression of him remained favorable, “Listen, I’m sorry if I…”
But Lisa was not listening. She seemed to be concentrating hard, and as Mark watched, she puckered her face, reminding him of Paul’s girl Julia when she was a toddler; Mark would stare at her really intensely without smiling or blinking, and her cute face would pucker up and fill with babyish crinkles. Moments later, her bawling would attract her mum’s attention who would good-naturedly scold Mark for ‘staring my angel to tears…’
She's really doing it, his mind brought him to the uncomfortable present, she's attempting to cry, Mark thought. He glanced around at the other tables. To his relief, no one seemed to take any notice.
To Mark's utter horror, tears filled Lisa’s eyes and started rolling down her smooth cheeks. For a fleeting moment, Mark considered bolting out of place, but something to do with fascination kept him in his seat as Lisa, almost trance-like, stood up and cleared her throat. A few heads turned in their direction.
"Good thing I wrote these few words," she choked through her tears. "Now pay attention." She tapped her phone a few times and looked at him.
Wind, wind through the reeds,
Finding us through our needs.
Breeze, breeze forever truly free,
Ever landing wherever you wish.
Caressing with your sighs,
Cooling our sweaty thighs…
"Lisa…"
"I'm not done… stand up and read the last lines with me." His interruption must have been misconstrued as the end of the poem, for those who had been listening broke into applause. Mark joined in as Lisa, after thanking everyone with a wave, resumed her seat. She wiped her eyes and looked at Mark,
“Convinced now?” He nodded too fast, “I will never challenge you again…”
“But you’re wondering though,” she whispered. Indeed he was, as his downcast eyes betrayed, “I was just proving a point,” she held out her hand, and he hesitantly took it, “And you challenging or doubting me does not mean that we can’t still have a good time,” she covered his hand with both hers and smiled at him sweetly. He smiled back demurely and added his other hand to the union going on atop the table. Thus the two remained, sight and touch communicating so effectively, that time, that entity that has us all planning our schedules and our lives around it, realized the significance of that one singular moment in that coffee shop and broke protocol- it left the two of them alone to their unspoken yearnings. Outside on the highway, truck horns complained of the standstill time…
Chapter 3
“Me? I’m headed back to camp. You’re not coming?” They had left the coffee shop and after a short walking distance northwards stopped where the short dirt road which led back to Sinai Walk Camp intersected the main road at right angles to their left. Lisa shook her head,
“I’m thinking of checking in on my mom… haven’t spoken with her since yesterday,” She checked her phone, “And she prefers that I call, rather than she does,” she gave him a tilted smile. Mark pushed his hands into his pockets and smiled back, “Far?” he asked.
“Just a short bus ride away,” she pointed further ahead north. Indeed Mark had noticed a few buses on the road. He looked up at the skies and noticed lazy clouds jeering at the rapidly waning sun, for it was four in the evening already.
“But I’ll see you again?” he turned to her, his face trying to guess her answer before she had replied,
“Would you like to?”
“Come on, Lisa- with only a choice of ‘yes’ or ‘no’, what would you have picked?”
“I would have picked, ‘not sure’. There’s always that too,” she tilted her head as she smiled demurely at him.
“Well, I asked first. Pretend you’re under duress and those two are the only options,” he whispered as he moved closer, “What would you have said?” he watched her closely and she gazed back at him, smiling lips taking on a more inviting look,
“I’m a poor pretender,” she whispered back as she took a step towards him, “And I’m not under duress…”
Mark was very aware of her closeness, as his body was of her very feminine one, “Unless you make me,” she breathed.
Heart hammering loudly in his chest, Mark dared an even closer but tentative step, “You’re under duress right now…” Feeling more emboldened by her challenging black eyes, he leaned closer… closer… while she waited, lips parted, until he was as close as he could get, till her warm breath mingled with his, and he eyed her lips, curved in a Mona Lisa smile. He put his hand around her waist as with electrifyingly dizzying pleasure, he closed the micro gap between their well-aligned lips- and a loud truck horn ruined it all, shattering the lusty magic that had surrounded them and rudely bringing their rapidly-regained senses to the fact that they each had other things to do.
“Well…” still trembling from the heightened expectation of those few moments, Mark scratched his head as he shifted uncomfortably. His throb was receding, and with it, the pleasurable feeling, leaving him with a hollow, disappointed ache, “I need to get back to camp and prepare for an early morning…”
“Good, good,” Lisa looked at everything else; including the truck that had ruined their magic, jerking forward and backward as it was being parked outside the coffee shop, but avoided his gaze, “It’s time I head home. Mum must be worried…”
“Sure… sure…” they still lingered, each avoiding the other’s gaze.
“Well, bye…” He turned and headed for camp.
“Sure, hope to see you again…” she waved, turned and headed for the bus station, a few meters past the coffee shop. None physically turned around to look at the other, though Mark’s mind did, and in it, she was still standing there looking agonizingly at him, her face full of anguish, as the more he moved away, the more she couldn’t breathe… and the more she gasped for him, and as she went down on her knees, rending sobs heaving out of her worse than a scorned boy reduced to tears. He gave her one last love-filled glance of his own.
*****
Everything was packed and ready, but his mind was not. On the bed was his camera case with his monochrome Leica in it. He was fully decked from head to toe for the bush. Not taking any chances with his car, which had been brought the previous day while he was out, he had hired a camp car, better suited for the rough terrain, more than his ford mustang, which was now sa
fe within the camp precincts.
His phone was fully charged, and in the backpack on the floor were several power banks, just in case.
Heaving the backpack onto his back and shouldering the camera case, Mark gave his room one last glance and set everything back down with an angry and frustrated sigh. Where is Lisa? He sat on the bed as he whipped out his phone- why didn't I ask for her number? He wondered for the umpteenth time. Sherry Partridge hadn't seen her, "Perhaps she decided to leave after all," she had told Mark that morning in the cafeteria.
Jake Redi hadn't seen her also, though the way he had put it had left Mark's impression of him very low, "Meddlers must have left," he had said, "Seems they think we can't handle their imagined poachers…" Immediately after leaving his presence, Mark had headed to his car and had given it a thorough check, as if Jake spending a night in it must have rubbed some if his not so good opinions of Lisa's group.
As if on impulse, he scrolled through his contacts and dialed a number. He listened to it ring as he mentally calculated the difference in time zones between-
"Mark…" a female voice called sleepily.
"Viv… did I wake you?"
"What do you think?"
"You have your groggy voice on, and unless I have woken you, you've not slept for several days."
"What do you think?"
"Viv… is that how you greet your perfect love?"
"What do you think…" he held the phone away from his ear as an ear-splitting laugh emanated from its speaker.
"Mark..! Finally, you've called! No, you've not woken me up, and I've not been over researching myself to death!"
"What a relief… Still trying to solve planet issues, our marine scientist?" His mind flashed briefly to what Vivian did; she was part of a research team of doctors, scientists, historians, archaeologists, affluent business people, and to a minor degree, religious leaders, all drawn from all over the world with each continent having not less than two representatives. They were based in Europe where their tasks, though varied, had a common theme; finding a lasting solution to the earth’s increasing problems, from hunger to cultural progress gaps, to pollution but most importantly, global warming which had impacted the planet with the most disastrous results.
"Yap, still attempting the impossible. Speck of light at the end of this long, dark tunnel though but I won't go into details... work policy…"
"Wow, congratulations! Still working with- what was her name?"
"Lesuu? Yeah. We met one day, insulted each other to exhaustion, wondered why we hated each other so, ironed our differences with a few slaps…"
"You're joking…"
"…and now we're best friends... No, I'm not. If not for her we wouldn't have progressed as we have. She has such keen insight, just that she does not know how to relate with different personalities…"
"Sounds like you're having one swell of a time there?"
"If you call a swollen face and busted lips that, then yeah."
"Viv… you mean you're serious, you fought with doctor Lainai Lesuu, a renowned scientist credited with the discovery of a previously unknown electromagnetic spectrum energy…"
"Mark, Mark! I taught you that; stop repeating it to make yourself sound smart. You already are, even without reciting physics…" there was a pause at the other end as Mark heard other voices in the background. In a moment, she was back, "Let's talk about you," Vivian said, "Still crawling amongst ants?" From her change of tone, Mark suspected that someone else must have joined her, wherever she was.
"Yeah, still crawling..."
"Searching for the perfect shot? Or perhaps found it?"
"Still searching…"
"Gathered enough courage and started hunting?"
"Well…"
"Mark… we talked, and you promised."
"You didn't let me talk."
"Sorry..."
"I was hunted…"
"Whaaaat..!" She gasped from the other end, "Oops..!"
"Viv, I'll hang up."
"If you do, I'll send you a picture of my busted lips!"
"You do that, I'll share it."
"You wouldn’t share it…"
"Do you want to know what happened?" He asked.
"Every detail. How you met, her name, how she reacted to… us…"
"Viv…"
"…and… yeah, what?"
"We're yet to talk."
"Yet to talk… Mark! then what did you do when you met? Surely you couldn't have… that fast!"
"Viv love, we met under unusual circumstances. See, I was in the bush crawling…" As he recounted the events of the last two days, he could tell that she was listening and hanging onto his every word. She would then dissect his narrative word for word, event for event after he was done and finding nothing to cause serious concerns, she would encourage him but with a warning that should he be in need of anything- to call without hesitation. That is how deep their connection was, as was their enigmatic love which failed to make sense to many people, and especially her grandpa, Mr. Dionte, who never failed to wonder what she must have seen in Mark, and Paul who never failed to mention marriage to them whenever they visited.
"What could you be possibly waiting for? You love her, she loves you… don't you wish to be happy?" Paul had asked Mark one rainy afternoon when Mark had visited his brother, just before Vivian had gone back to the Netherlands, Europe.
"For me to be happy, Vivian has to he happy, and for Vivian to be happy, I have to be happy," Mark had replied to a confused-looking Paul.
"What better way to achieve that than marriage?" He had asked.
"Our individual lives, Paul. True, we love each other, but in a different way... not the love that you think it is." Paul had thrown up his hands in frustrated despair,
“What then is it Mark? Platonic friendship? I know it is not for you two are too close for that. Don’t you see the Lord’s hand in this…”
“The Lord should mind his own business!” Mark had retorted, and Paul had stared at his brother much as one would a stranger. Now, as he recounted his time with Lisa to Vivian, Mark wondered if Paul had been right after all. Or perhaps his Lord. Would he ever find someone else who would care for him as Vivian did, without ever judging him? Would he be able to be himself with anyone else as he was with Vivian, and as open as he was with her?
But most importantly, would another relationship turn out to be ordinary like others, one where fights, disagreements alternating with moments of deep affection would be present? Not a relationship so perfected that they knew that they would bore each other… that they yearned for imperfections?
A full forty minutes later, Mark finished the narration of his meeting with Lisa. He could tell that Vivian was listening to more than his voice; it was as if she could detect his body language through electronic media. They could have used video calls, but Mark knew that she loathed them with a passion.
"Mark, follow your gut. From the way you sound, I feel that I already like her."
"You do?" He was pleased, "I'm relieved, Viv. And thank you for being in my life.”
"Don't sweat it, and do not feel like you owe me any debt… I release your love."
"Nevertheless Viv…," he chocked, "No one will ever take your special place." For saving me, he thought.
"Love is not replaceable Mark," she said softly, "We just create some space for others."
"Thank you so much, Viv love."
"Take care, Mark, and if she's all that you told me, follow your heart or your lust…" she burst out laughing and disconnected the call. Mark remained immobile for some time, his mind a confused web of questions, hopes, yearning, and wishes. But most of all, he wished he could see Lisa, even if for a second. Social media. The thought hit him like an electric shock. He tapped his phone screen and typed furiously. Of all the three platforms that he had accounts in, only one turned up results for 'Lisa Fellows' but the images in the profile pictures were not those of her. She didn’t come across as one who would use
a fake picture for her avatar. He thought as he put the phone on the small bedside table and lay on his back on the bed. Perhaps she rejoined her group, he thought and rose up suddenly. Picking up his phone again, he typed 'pango…' then bit his nail as he tried to recall what name it had been. Pangonoter? Pangolin-ter? Pangeter? He typed all of them in his phone search bar, and they all brought up the same result, 'search word not found. Please check your spelling.' With an angry sigh, he flung the phone on the bed and stood up. To pace and think.
But of course! A wide smile broke on his face as he pocketed his phone and gathered his bags. I have been overthinking it all. He thought as he exited the room and rushed down the hallway. Now to find Sherry and convince her to give me Lisa's contact details, he decided as he ran towards the office block, backpack jingling up and down.
He burst into the reception and approached the receptionist breathlessly, "Hello… umm where can I find Sherry…"
"Sherry left an hour ago," the young girl informed him through a professional smile, "And won't be back for a couple more… perhaps a message…"
"No, but I need you to help me, please. Do you know Lisa Fellows?" The girl's face did not register recognition, "She checked in a few days ago with her- nature protection group…"
"Oh," her face turned to slight disdain, "Do you have a complaint too?"
"Ah, what- um… no- yeah, yeah, I do..."
"Been getting a lot if those in the last two days," she leaned towards him, a conspiratorial look on her face, "Good riddance of the lot."
"Well, yeah, it was necessary. Listen, they ran off before we had finalized…"
"They ran off on many others too," the girl peered at something on the computer screen in front of her, "Been getting nothing but angry feedback all morning."
"Well, I need their contacts, or address, or something…"
"Sure," she began typing furiously, "Name?"
"Ah, is that necessary? I'm in room four in block 14B…"
"It is. For transparency purposes, in case they come to harm… as if they haven't harmed this place already…"
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