He nods his head in understanding. “That’s tough. I mean, the thought of the loans I am going to pay off after medical school is already driving me nuts. Which is why I have to be precise about my field, you know.”
“I understand.”
“You sound close to your dad.” His voice somber like he was almost too scared to ask.
“Yes,” I answer with a smile to set him at ease. “He was the best. I am an only child, so he dotted on me. Ever since I was little, he was my hero and my biggest cheerleader. He made me understand that I deserved the world. He had this awful mustache he refused to shave, he said it gave him a bordello appeal.” I chuckle as I remember how much he loved his silly beard. “He never remarried after the divorce with my mom. So, it was always just us.” I shrugged trying to hold back the tears. He reached across the table for my hand and squeezed it. I like that he did that. He did not try to say he understood how I felt, or some silly stuff people say. He just held on to me until the wave passed. I like that he didn’t push me to say more. Not that I could without bawling my eyes out. I try to muster a smile.
“So how about you? Any siblings?”
“Oh, I’ve got one. An older sister. A very nosy one. She just finished law school and moved to New York City last year with her boyfriend. We talk every once in a while.”
“She sounds fun.”
“Oh, she is. Drives me crazy. But I love her.”
“I’m sure you do. So, your folks live here in Boston?”
“Yep. Born and bred. Just like their parents too. I have no idea why they stayed though.”
“The weather is crappy, right?” I whisper conspiratorially.
“Yes, that’s kinda like our charm and stuff.” He says with a wink.
My echoes of laughter filled the hall as I mouthed an apology to the others there. He is fun. I’ve not laughed this hard in a long while.
“Do you mind if I ask what you were studying before you left college?”
“Guess.”
“Wow, uhhhh…. “He acted like he was pondering for a minute. “Okay. Maybe some practical and economically relevant. Definitely not something like poetry or ancient languages. You don’t seem to have the patience for that.”
“You are not wrong. I am too… practical, like you put it, to do something not useful. I like to help people and I wanted to be a therapist. I was studying psychology.”
“That’s amazing. I am so sorry that it didn’t work for you. Are you sure you don’t want to go back?”
“No. Leaving college made me realize that I am not in the headspace for the whole thing again. I can’t go back. But I will find other ways to help. Maybe take some courses and work for a nonprofit.”
“That’s great.”
We were silent for a while before he asked again.
“So, what are you reading?”
I closed the book and showed him the hardcover. "Wow! A cookbook. The other day I saw you reading about the Salem trials."
“I like to read about everything.”
“And you also love cooking, huh?”
"Yes. Ever since I was little. I used to join my dad in the kitchen. We practically learned how to cook together. We had our hit and miss days though. Soon we started trying out new recipes. Even got into baking and stuff. But that was a disaster."
“Really? I want to know.”
"So, one time we got the recipes for the chocolate cookies online and we decide to try it out. But we did not understand what they meant by a pinch of salt. Anyway, we manage to put in the oven, but I still don't know how we messed up the oven temperature. A few minutes later, the whole house was almost up in flames. But not before we were able to salvage some of the cookies. They were all salty! Anyway, we decided to steer clear of baking and just stick to what we know."
Mark laughed and quickly mouthed an apology when he saw that his outburst caused a distraction in the reading room. “That was hilarious.”
“We thought so too. My dad was just so frustrated, we left the mess and went out to grab some burgers.”
“I’m not much of a cook though. I mean, I make enough to get by but nothing fancy.”
"It is just more of a hobby for me. And the good news is that, I bake now. Not much of a chef but I follow recipes well. How you combine several ingredients to make something edible and delicious is the thrill for me." The glee of cooking evident on my face.
“The way you even talk about food is fascinating. In between classes and studying, I only eat for survival and would rather not cook even if I had the time.”
"Maybe one of these days, I would make something for you." It was out before I could even stop it. Here I was already jumping the gun and requesting to cook for him.
“I would like that, Jane. I think we should do more than that. Would you like to hang out one of these days?”
“Sure. I would like very much. I just moved here and still haven’t seen much of the city yet.”
"You’re in luck then, missy. Been here a while, well, all my life, and I will gladly be your tax-free tour guide. There is this place I want to show you." He said with his eyes twinkling with joy. This place has got to be a special place for him. “When will you be free?”
“I work mostly in the evenings, so I’ve got morning and afternoons free.”
“I have a lot of work and reading to catch up on tomorrow, but can you do Tuesday? Noon-ish?”
“Sure. I can do that.”
“Good. So, Jane, will you give me your number?”
"Sure," I call out my digits for him and he punched it into his phone.
“I will shoot you a text now so you will know it is me and you can save my number.”
We continue to talk about random stuff till it was late and he mentioned he had a study session to get to. We leave the library together but take different buses. It is so hard saying goodbye to him. I can't believe the day was over. We finally say bye to each other.
Chapter 6
Mark’s bus came first, and he climbed on and waved at me till the bus left. It was cheesy and sweet, and I loved it. Can this guy be more adorable? I just could certainly use more guys like this. Wait? Why am I getting ahead of myself? I don’t even know him all that well. I squeeze my hands again as I shook with giddy happiness. I really can’t remember the last time I was this overwhelmed with pure joy. Ever since I got to Boston, I have felt alone. Like everyone here already have their crowd. Their people. At the bar, I see everyone with their partners and friends. You know bonds that were forged and strengthened through time. I want that. And with the way I already feel about Mark, I know there is going to be a special connection between us. This is not me being ahead of myself. It’s me being positive and realistic. I could almost see how great my life would be with him. He is so sweet and funny and would make a wonderful husband and father. There it is. My future with him, if it so happens, will be exactly what I dreamed it would be for my children. A loving father who is a doctor and a responsible member of society. I bit my lip while trying my hardest not to blush when I let myself imagine how those kids will be conceived. Just the thought of us together enough to get me wet.
‘Get it together, Jane. You have not even gone on an official date with the guy and here you are already naming your children.’
I was still in the middle of a well-deserved self-censure lecture when I got that feeling again. That feeling that someone was following me. Was the person here? Around here, right now? Now, this was getting way too creepy. In a huge city like this, with millions of people. What are the odds that someone would make it their job or life’s work to follow a young naïve girl?
“Hi, Jane.”
I jolt in fear when I heard that greeting from behind me. I turn around to see Diana standing in front of me. Wearing a red coat which she tied at the waist and black boots with a polka dot skirt. It gave off the vibe of eccentric and stylish at the same time. At least focusing on her outfit allowed my heartbeat return to normal rhythm. Although he
r being here still seems too much of a coincidence. Or is she…
“I’m so sorry I scared you.” Diana apologized.
“No, don’t worry about it. It’s not you. I have just been jumpy lately. I think someone is following me. Or maybe it’s just me being paranoid and stuff. But, don’t worry about it.”
“Ermm… I have a confession.” Diana said with her tone going all mellow and unsure all of a sudden. I wonder what it is she might want to confess about. This has got to be our second meeting and I don’t even think I know her well enough to be taking a confession. But hey, if she wants to confess? The least I can do is to hear the poor woman out.
“That’s weird. But yeah, tell me. What’s going on? What do you have to confess?” I ask
“Okay. After I tell you this, you have to promise you will give me a chance to explain.”
Now I was getting impatient. What could this woman want to tell me?
“Okay. Just tell me.”
“Well, you know the way you just complained about someone following you? It’s not just in your head. Someone is following you.” And before I could even digest and respond to that. She added. “And that person is me.”
“What? You? You have been the one following me and scaring the crap out of me? Diana?” I don’t think I have been more confused by anything in my entire life. I could not even process what I just heard.
“Wait. Remember you promised to let me explain? Just give me a chance to do that.” She took my silence as affirmative and swallowed before she continued. “I was just trying to look out for you. You are new in town and even though you have not realized the extent of what you are, you still need protection.”
I was still confused but at least a part of me was relieved that not only have I finally figured out that I was not crazy and that someone was indeed following me, it is also good to know that it was not a dangerous person who wanted to kill me after all. But what is all this stuff about me needing protection?
“Even though I don’t understand your motive for following me and all, why do you think I need protection? I am just a small-town girl from Torrington. When did broke 21-year-old start needing protection from strangers?”
Diana looked like she was pondering about it for a while. She looked around for a minute and then took a deep breath before answering me.
“You are special, Jane. You have such a distinct and incredible presence and spirit.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean by having an incredible presence and spirit? I am not special. Maybe you have got the wrong person.”
“No. Definitely the right person. I knew for sure that day at the library. You might not realize this yet, but you are not like every other person. And some things exist beyond the normal.” She pauses again before asking me. “Have you ever noticed paranormal things happening in your life? Something that there is no reasonable explanation for? Have you ever experienced something beyond the physical?”
“Wait, are you asking me if I believe in magic and fairies and stuff?” I look at her like she had just sprouted two heads.
“Well, not exactly. But do you believe there is more to this” She threw her hands in the air as if she was looking for the perfect word to use? – “existence, mankind existence than we can see?”
I thought about that for a while before responding. “Yeah. I mean. There are certain things that we have no explanation for. Even science can’t seem to do it justice.” I shrugged. “But I am sure there are answers to them. We just don’t know them yet. But it sure does exist.”
“So, can you think back at anything that has once happened in your life that you have no explanation for just yet?”
“I don’t know…”
But now that I do think about it, an incident comes to mind.
It happened one time when I was about eight years old. I had come back home from school with a result for my math test. And even though I had managed to make an average grade as math was not my favorite subject, I had come home that day to find my mom in her favorite chair by the window. She had passed out from drinking. I wanted to just walk past her and sneak into my bedroom to wait for my father to get back from work, but I had forgotten I still had the envelope in my hand. I walked in silently on tiptoes and had even almost made it to the kitchen before I heard her call my name.
“Jane. Jane, is that you?” She called and I froze.
A part of me was wishing I could escape the whole conversation and maybe she would just fall asleep back.
“Jane! Answer your mother when I call you!” She called angrily. She then adjusted in her seat to see me better and must have seen the envelope.
“What is that?” She asked, her voice still sloppy and drunk.
“Its…It’s my test grade.” I said shakily.
“Well, let me see it then.” She beckoned with her. “And be fast about it.” She added when she saw that I was reluctant about giving it to her. It was not that I feared her wrath, I just did not want to share anything with her. My father that would have understood what the grade meant because knew about my struggles and had been helping me with math. My mom, on the other hand even sometimes forgot she had a daughter. So, when she asked me to hand over the paper, I was reluctant about it. Most times, she felt like a stranger to me. I stranger that had birthed me but couldn’t bring herself to hide her disappointment in her offspring.
I finally hand over the envelope. She tore it open impatiently and read its contents.
“A C uhh? In math? I thought you were smart.”
I almost rolled my eyes. Not that she had deserved any explanation, but I felt like I had to defend myself. “I have been struggling with math. Dad has been helping me. “She snorted, her contempt for my father was obvious even then. She waved the paper. “He has been helping you and this is still what you get? Both of you are blockheads.”
“No, he’s not.” I quickly rose to defend my father. I had forgotten that that was one of her sore spots. She always hated the bond I had with my father. Now, she was seething. She rose on her feet, her face livid with anger.
“You come home with a bad grade and still give me attitude?” She threw the paper at me. “You insolent child! You are so dull and rude.”
As she continued to come close, I had stubbornly taken my stand. Deciding not to be a coward and run. I did not see it coming early. Maybe if I had I made have avoided it, but I couldn’t. Her palm stroked my face and the impact and shock of it made me scream out.
To me, I did not think I screamed all that loud but the sound in my ears was like shrieks. Like a screech of a siren. What happened next is still a mystery to me. While my eyes were closed still trying to process the pain that followed the slap, I did not know that the windows had started to crack up and eventually shattered. And when I opened my eyes, I saw the extent of the damage. The flower vase beside the television set was all over the floor in strands. I look around in horror and find that all the windows were broken. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I tried to talk but the words did not come out. I look over to see my mother standing so still, almost like she was frozen. I could not even read her expression. She looked so… more than ten years later and I still don’t have the words the describe the look on my mother’s face that day. She had told me in a tone I did not recognize to go to my room and stay there until dinner. I don’t know the explanation she gave my father for the damage but the next day, a handyman had come to fix the windows and the incident was never mentioned. And soon even I forgot about it. Until now.
What brought this on? Yes, the question about paranormal that Diana asked. No need to mention that to her. It was probably scientific event that coincided with when I screamed. But then again, there was another incident that happened just about two years ago when my father died. A few days after my father died, before I moved back home, I had been so depressed and distraught about his death that I had just stayed in bed exhausted from crying, thinking about how alone I felt in the world. I was in a dark place
and for a while. One day, when I lazily carried myself out of bed to wash my teeth, I saw that the plant my father had given me when I first moved into my college dorm had shriveled up, turned into black and died. The first time, I thought it was out of neglect. I had almost dismissed it as one of the repercussions of not having a care in the world. A friend dropped by to check up on me and brought in new plant. The plants continued to dry and wither as my mood worsened. It got to a point and that I just could not stand the gloominess and terrible pain in my chest. And if we are being honest, I got spooked. I did not understand how to explain exactly what happened to the plants. So, I packed my bags and left college. More than a year later and I still can’t explain how what had happened.
“I do” Diana answered as if she heard the question, I asked in my mind without uttering a word.
“What? I did you-? I did not even- “I ask in obvious.
Diana just shrugged. “Do you remember the book you were reading in the library the first day we met?”
“Yes. It was about the Salem witches. A group of people that believed in the paranormal and ended up doing terrible things because of their ignorance.”
“But do you think those people were normal? Like you really the supernatural exists?”
“Honestly, I have no doubts. Magic and other paranormal things do not exist.”
“You will soon find out. I know it sounds stupid but do you want to join a witch academy? See it on your own?” Diana asks. Her face straight even though I tried to check for laugh lines. Surely, she was kidding. No one says such a thing to a stranger you don’t even know about. She went on to say, “Not only will you see things, but you will also learn new things.”
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