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It had been two weeks since Jean saw Belinda. He had been avoiding her, not because of the warm tugs at his heart-strings anytime their eyes met but because of his fear that this surreal feeling could end. On that fortuitous day, Jean had to encounter those eyes again, perhaps to sink beyond their fathomable depths to resurface no more. Jean took a look at the flowers he had just purchased and wondered why he picked that particular genus, a chrysanthemum. Perhaps, because it is colorful and perennial; this gave him a sense of continuity and reliability, just like Larry and his wife.
Jean decided to add a note to the flowers, in case, he got to Belinda’s apartment, hand over the flowers and his tongue got nailed to the roof of his mouth; or worse, her eyes compel his senses to take flight. On the ten-minute drive to Belinda’s place, Jean tried very hard to remember the first time he saw her. He had gone to the University Center to purchase fruit juice because rumor had it that the vending machine in the history department’s lobby was eating up dollar bills without giving up what you ask for. In fact he had heard someone kicking and cursing the other day. Jean bought a peach and mango juice and sat down at one of the unoccupied tables in the food court area. Amidst the bustle and idle conversation, Jean decided to read a paper he had just finished writing on Rousseau and his social contract theory.
While engrossed in his paper, Jean unconsciously stuck out his left leg onto the walking space between tables. Suddenly, a tray of food and drinks come flying, and he instinctively reached out to catch the stranger before she hit the edge of the table. Ignoring his soiled clothing, Jean asked if she was alright. It was the kindness and concern shown in Jean’s eyes which made Belinda’s heart throb. Jean insisted on buying her lunch before leaving and that was when he noticed her eyes. It was love at first sight, but he had been living in denial ever since the incident. Belinda, on the other hand accepted her feelings for Jean and hoped that he would come to a reckoning soon. The day of reckoning had finally come, and he was on his way to make peace with his heart. Jean took the turn into Belinda’s driveway and turned off the engine of his BMW 335i.
At the door, Jean lifted the gothic knocker and let it fall twice but he could not discern the sound because his own heart was thumping away into a crescendo. The door knob turned and the door opened hesitantly, revealing the most enchanting and beautiful pair of eyes. Belinda’s heart skipped, joining Jean’s in Vesper’s marathon. Like an iris in spring, she beckoned with her beauty and Jean could not help but drift towards her like insect seeking nectar before dusk.
Still speechless, Jean handed over the flowers and card to Belinda. She smiled, and he was hit by fiery shards of emotion. Indeed, love is engaging when the world disappears and fear is gone. At that moment, Jean realized that he was perchance the only one who knew Belinda this way. In that fleeting moment, her eyes became the portal to her soul. Round and sad, they reminded Jean of a world in which the eyes played the role of the tongue. Almost motionless, Belinda’s eyes said it all. In a thousand light years, Jean would still remember what he saw in those eyes; a kaleidoscope of emotion that struck a distant chord in a distant part of him. Belinda held out her hand and Jean took it. He walked into Belinda's apartment and closed the door behind him.
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Writer Profile
Nana Yaw Boampong Sapong
Nana Yaw B. Sapong
Historian and Creative Writer
Illinois, USA.
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Comments
Congratulation CM | Dec 13th, 2007
Woooow what a wunderful story!!!¨Keep on writing. You are great!
Thanks, Claudia! Nana Yaw Boampong Sapong | Dec 14th, 2007
Claudia, I am glad you enjoyed reading my piece. Thanks.
Interesting story Zorica Vukovic | Jan 4th, 2008
Interesting story. It might be regarded alone as a short story. But obviously it might stand here as the second chapter of a larger structure. Lke the first 'chapter' had its point in the insight brought by the old man's ode, here it is given in brilliant description of growing feelings of affection.
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