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by Gabriele Strohschen |
| There was magic in the night. It was spring and it was warm. His words filled the mellow air as they walked to the little cafe on the street that leads to Lake Shore Drive. The cafe was filled with young students from the nearby university. They sat at small tables and were a colorful backdrop to the sounds of a band that played hand drums and piano. Their sounds mimicked the breeze outside; the chatter of the students floated like pieces of clouds after a thunderstorm. She sat down on a faded red couch in a darkred painted room of the cafe. He sat beside her. They talked and sipped coffee, and they smiled at the womb-like surroundings, at the promises and hope visible in the smooth faces of the young people around them. He spoke of his dreams and ideas. Theirs was a love as young as the experiences of those sitting near them. The cafe was a simple house that had been painted but left intact as it has once been: rooms that had been bedrooms or living rooms now made for cozy seating with eclectic furniture. Nothing matched, and everything fit the night. Alice in Wonderland could have been the interior designer of these rooms; there was an ornate teapot on the table next to them. Everyone talked but one could not understand the words. It was a perfect place for talking about dreams. Their conversation was interspersed with gentle touches. What would the future bring? Which city would beckon him? As he zigzagged through his ideas and dreams, she noticed a couple playing chess. She wondered about the girl in the corner who talked on her cell phone while typing vigorously on her laptop. People came and borrowed the chairs near the faded couch. He kept talking about his dreams. He told her of the possibilities that had come to his mind. She listened and she understood his eagerness. For years now, he had awaited the time to be free. With his pending divorce, it might soon be freedom for him. And she nodded. She moved her head in supportive understanding and tried to catch the melody of the music from the band that drifted through the old house. She moved her head toward his shoulder in an attempt to let it rest. He moved excitedly to his sweeping gesture that described the vastness of his imagined possibilities. She thought she needed to walk. She felt the need to take his hand and find a direction somewhere in this city, a direction they could choose together. But out on the sidewalk, she let this notion drop. His possibilities had begun to fill her, and they created an emptiness. And into this emptiness crept a tiny green creature that downed out the sound of the wind and wrinkled the young face of hope. It squatted down squarely into the pit of her stomach and spread. She guided him toward her car, sensing that driving might be a way to stall the growth of the creature. But with every mile she drove north up Lake Shore Drive, the creature grew bigger, seeking to escape. By the time she reached the exit, the car had transformed itself into a dark green monster that held her in its belly like a mouse that was swallowed by a snake. The beauty of Lake Shore Drive had changed into a blur that did not even shine enough light ahead of her to let her see the direction she was frantically trying to recognize. With her last effort, she steered the green monster toward the curve and stopped. They talked. It was one of those talks where words do not even come close to capturing the essence of what each felt. They talked nevertheless. In between words, there were more gestures that swept the words away. A man rolled by in a wheelchair. And then she knew. She felt the monster slither into a dungeon that was hidden deep within her. Tears collected like a small army of toy soldiers, ready to march in search of that monster but armed with nothing more than make-believe weapons. She knew. There were no more words that would describe the absurdity of that monster and the needless rallying of the toy soldier tears. In that night he was the magician with a spell. And he cast the spell in the form of a question: Why can't you trust me? His words filled the mellow air as she watched him leave. She drove off to find the answer.
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