Bittersweet Memories

The sun beat hot on the narrow path which wound through the fresh spring garden like a cobbled stream. Victor thought there would have been more people on the garden tour on a day like today, but he hadn't seen a single soul since he had parked his old beater about a mile back. As he walked, he saw a small placid pond choked with leaves fallen from a gathering of oaks, huddled around the pond like a Savannah watering hole. To his right, Victor saw a refurbished bird bath tipped carelessly and never righted. It didn't seem like people came back here often to fix anything.

Looking into the glassy surface, he saw his own reflection and reflected that he needed a bit more sun. It was a decent day to shave his face too even though it made him look a bit young for his 25 years of age, the sun which passed through the overarching canopy hit his face in subtle beams and another leaf gently fell into the pond, sending ripples across the water. Victor knelt by the pond and watched each expand calmly as their energy was spent and the water had returned to a state of peace.

Victor lost track of time here, the world seemed to fall away and he flexed his long forearms, taught from his time in the climbing gym. He was exhausted, but the peace that he felt here was the perfect remedy. He let his mind recede, watching the ripples slowly in reverse. He picked up the pace and found himself in a distant memory, meeting up at Gordi's, a small dive bar he used to frequent before the music turned new age and every other person you could meet had a band there. Victor used to go and listen to the cover bands on weekends, listening to renditions of The Who, The Doors, Pearl Jam, and a slew of others. He would shut his eyes and sway his head with the rhythm of the music. After a few Long Islands, he could even be found dancing along with the lead singer to Baba O'Riley.

That's where he had met Emily, with her head down, bobbing along to the music. How surreal she was, her hair as black as his but straight not the deep curls he could feel on his head. He reached up to remember, how different his hair felt compared to hers. It's funny how two people trying to drown everyone else out can find each other so easily. When she looked up, she caught him looking at her and Victor immediately pretended that he was watching the most interesting thing ever right behind her. Victor was always shy, even when he had a few drinks, but luckily Emily caught on to his ruse and came over to sit next to him. It was too loud to talk, so they just sat there, closed their eyes, and rocked side to side in unison.

He had never felt such a deep connection to a person in his life, and after the third set had ended he asked for her phone number, and she asked for his apartment number. He smiled shyly, and mumbled that he doesn't normally do this sort of thing. Emily looked down at the table, and told him she was in a relationship which was rocky with an outcome no one could guess, and she just didn't want to feel like she was alone anymore. Victor understood and invited her back to his apartment.

Victor smiled remembering his first apartment, decked out like any 21-year old who was trying to be somebody would have. A bookshelf full of Chaucer and Dolstevsky lay across one wall, sprinkled with free verse poetry novels and a few notebooks of Victor's own work. A stack of medical textbooks sat on a checkered coffee table next to a rarely used ashtray. Victor's plans for medical school were fleeting at best, ideas always grabbed him strongly but never stayed for long, and the power of a doctor was simply to much for him to handle. A modest television sat across from a patterned couch, where Emily made herself at home. Victor had a stack of albums lying next to a reconstituted record player he had picked up from a flea market. It was his prized possession along with the Pink Floyd album he had just thrown on, Dark Side of the Moon.

When he sat down, he saw Emily turn her sad eyes up to him and she held her slender pale hands in tight balled fists on her lap. Victor suddenly realized how odd it was that she was wearing long sleeves on a night as sweaty and humid as that night. Victor understood, he had went through a phase when he was younger, so he asked if he could see them. She looked up bleary eyed and responded, "What?"

"Can I see the scars on your arms."

She looked at him in disbelief, but without breaking eye contact slowly rolled up her sleeves. There they were, in neat little rows. Red crayon on white paper. Victor thought he would have been ready to see them, but even now he wondered why he hugged her so suddenly, so passionately. Most people would have been completely taken aback by a sudden move from someone they'd never met, but Emily accepted it and held his back tight and let her emotions run out of her in a stream. They pulled away from each other, and Emily began to smile, a tight-lipped, knowing smile.

"I feel such a magnetic pull to you," she said, "The moment I saw you in the bar it just felt so right, like you're my destination, my answer for all the things that don't work in my life."

"I didn't bring you back here to sleep with you," Victor responded, "but you look like you needed someone to hold you and tell you everything is going to be alright."

So they laid back on the couch together, with Emily's head perfectly cradled on Victor's shoulder and they just let the rise and fall of their chests match in unison until the record had long stopped spinning, but they didn't notice. Time had lost meaning and the feeling of pure serenity that had brought Victor back to this memory pervaded all of his senses. There was no moment in his life that had felt more right than now.

But slowly the clock came into focus and he saw that it was almost 5am, so he asked if her boyfriend knew she was out. She nodded her head as she slowly sat up, and went to say her goodbye, but ended up kissing Victor on the mouth, softly yet passionately. She pulled back with a hunger in her eyes that scared Victor, but enticed him at the same time. She rolled her sleeves back down and slipped her Converse shoes back on her feet. Victor watched each motion of her slender body without moving, any motion feeling like it might break his fragile heart. He finally stood and without thinking kissed her back, pulling her in close for a deeper kiss. One hand rested on the small of her back, the other crept up her long pale neck, fingers nestled in her tousled hair. They pulled away more slowly this time, Victor's lips still buzzing from the feel. He had never kissed someone so plainly and felt such an electricity from it. Her lips felt perfectly soft, yet malleable perfectly counteracting his aggressive nature. The two were lost in each others eyes for an indeterminate amount of time, but the rising sun peaked through the window and broke the spell.

Emily walked out of the door, back to her life. Victor always stopped at Gordi's every night before he realized that he wasn't going to see her again. He had heard from one of the bartender's that she had actually married her boyfriend and had stopped coming in ever since.

Another leaf fell in the pond and Victor snapped back to the present. Here, he pulled a small sketchpad out of his pocket and opened it to an image of a girl's arm with several gashes. Instead of blood, though, Victor had drawn cardinals flying free from the wounds. He tore this image from the book and threw it into the pond, watching as the red of the cardinals coalesced on the shining page.

Victor stood and walked away from the pond with the drowning cardinals and began to whistle a tune to himself as he continued along the looping trail, hoping to make it back to his car in some short order, he yearned to hear another local band play something, even that crap he normally hated.