It was yet
another foggy day. My stay in Vancouver was coming to an end and with it
also the brief association with Emma and Charles.
In the afternoon I went past the coffee-shop where I was with Emma and Charles, with that misty memory of the photograph they had cherished and carried with them hidden away in Charles's school-bag, Emma walking away in the rain with Charles trailing behind her and looking back at me as Emma held his hand and walked away resolutely without saying a formal good-bye. There was something stirring under the roots of that walk-away. I could guess it but could not confirm what I felt.
Such fragile ties as those which were coming into being in those brief and short-lived meetings had best be forgotten. Young and inexperienced though she was, Emma had shored away the wisdom and carried it on her young shoulders with the awareness that she must sacrifice sentiments in the interest of herself and Charles.
I viewed the coffee-shop from a distance, trying to relive those moments with detachment.
On that day, I chose to sit in the coffee-shop alone and allowed my mind to relish those moments. There was a sad kind of indulgence and peace in it. I recalled that the mention of my being in the armed forces had brought her suddenly to the brink of the memory of the greatest loss of her life. It was also a signal for her that she was investing her feelings with a precarious balance. It was as though she suddenly realized how close she had moved towards me. I saw the force of the irony in how she had reacted with revulsion at my inadvertent and inept remark that I saw a potential nun, a celibate woman in her.
The mist around this enigmatic girl-woman was clearing slowly.
In the afternoon I went past the coffee-shop where I was with Emma and Charles, with that misty memory of the photograph they had cherished and carried with them hidden away in Charles's school-bag, Emma walking away in the rain with Charles trailing behind her and looking back at me as Emma held his hand and walked away resolutely without saying a formal good-bye. There was something stirring under the roots of that walk-away. I could guess it but could not confirm what I felt.
Such fragile ties as those which were coming into being in those brief and short-lived meetings had best be forgotten. Young and inexperienced though she was, Emma had shored away the wisdom and carried it on her young shoulders with the awareness that she must sacrifice sentiments in the interest of herself and Charles.
I viewed the coffee-shop from a distance, trying to relive those moments with detachment.
On that day, I chose to sit in the coffee-shop alone and allowed my mind to relish those moments. There was a sad kind of indulgence and peace in it. I recalled that the mention of my being in the armed forces had brought her suddenly to the brink of the memory of the greatest loss of her life. It was also a signal for her that she was investing her feelings with a precarious balance. It was as though she suddenly realized how close she had moved towards me. I saw the force of the irony in how she had reacted with revulsion at my inadvertent and inept remark that I saw a potential nun, a celibate woman in her.
The mist around this enigmatic girl-woman was clearing slowly.
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