Judging Beauty

"Come, let's get you home. You must be tired." He said.

He walked me to his car with his arms around my waist. I felt the cushions of the passenger seat of his car. They were so comfortable. He drove along the narrow tarred road carefully as he manoeuvred the sharp bends and corners.

I looked out at the window. Haphazard rows of trees lined both sides of the road. I saw a grey rabbit hopping amongst the towering grails of grass, partially hidden from sight as the car sped by. How beautiful the rabbit is, I thought. Like the grey curtains in his chambers. They seem comforting now.

We did not speak as he was driving. Yet now and then, he endeavoured to keep an eye on me. I felt safe now and relaxed. I must have trusted him enough for I loosened all inhibitions and with a content sigh fell into deep slumber in the car all the way home.

I felt him gently nudging my shoulders. I awoke and found myself right at the gate of my parents' house. I guess I had slept for three hours or so because it was now noon. The sun was a fiery red in the skies.

I heard my parents squeal in delight. They rushed towards the gate; pushing the grilled gates aside with a loud bang. They bombarded the car door, and soon, I was in their arms. Wet kisses on my cheeks from my mother and hearty hugs from my father.

I heard them thank him for his help in getting me out of the detention facility. Sudden awareness came to me that I did not let him know how much I appreciated what he did for me.

"It was nothing, Mr Sands. I had owed your daughter a favour and I'm merely honouring it." He had said.

On hearing him mouth those simple words, I felt my heart crush for an unknown reason. Yes, of course he was paying back his debt to me. We were on equal footing now.

My mother invited him to stay for lunch. He searched my face inquiringly, letting me decide.

"If you could spare the time, I would be pleased." I said, telling myself not to bite my nails.

He said yes to my mother who then turned to look at me in one of those knowing looks she had. She seemed amused.

I justified myself with a long shower before lunch. After all, he was well taken care for by my parents. My father was a great conversationalist while my mother in general was a great nagger. He would never be bored with them.

My mother, especially was eager to know how he got me out of the Lake Side. I too, heard it for the first time at the dining table.

"My classmate at law school is the current Supreme Court judge. The Supreme Court is the highest in the court hierarchy. I explained to him what happened. He used his influence on the government to get Beauty out. I do not yield enough power to do so." The judge said.

"I'm glad you did. This naughty girl of mine never listens. She lives in her own world. I told her not to march but she insisted. What's there to change in our country? We are safe enough if we don't interfere with politics. Do you know, she always tells me that we should all fight for our freedom, and yet here she is at nearly forty; still living with us." My mother said, looking at him and then at me.

Obviously she meant it as a humorous way to start lunch.

"Mum! Please. I wanted to move out but you wanted me to stay." I said.

I was always treated like a child when I was at home with my parents. But at my ripe age, I had to have some footing around here although I still lived with them.

The judge had a sincere look in his face though, which surprised me. He was not laughing at me. He was quietly observing me cutting pieces of chicken in a very unlady-like manner. Why would my mother cook chicken today knowing that I had never liked her chicken dishes? I was a little grumpy also because my mother called me a naughty girl as if I was five years old.

There goes the impression I would like outsiders to see - the confident, successful lawyer who was not hen-pecked by her mother.

This private home life of mine was very different from the professional life I showed at work. The judge would be in the work category. Yet it was always downhill with him. I could never raise myself higher to be that ideal lawyer. Every time I met him, most of the time, he would somehow make me cry. Or rather, I would cry when I met him. I would be a five year old with him too. I was ashamed of myself.

Thus with all said and done and what he had gathered of me, I could not make myself presentable anymore because I was such a klutz. So I stopped trying. It was too late to do damage control to my reputation.

My parents dominated the conversation with him. I marvelled at how well the three of them got together. They did not leave me out on purpose; rather it was because I was tongue-tied when I hear people speak. I did enjoy listening to them, and it must have somehow transcended into a norm which defined me.

My solace was in my writing and reading. In my own world of escapism, I was free to venture all realms. I was free to speak unfettered; to fly unbound. I was able to flap my wings and look down at the world below me. I was more of a poetic philosopher than of an ardent observer of facts. I lived to inspire others. I wanted change for my people, for my country.

I finished my lunch early. He was still with my parents at the dining table. Quietly I left the table and watched from aside, the judge in particular. He seemed very much at home. His fine shirt was crumpled though, courtesy of the crying woman. His eyes had a gaiety in them and his deep voice was very soothing to hear.

I took a stroll in the garden, watching sparrows on their branches chirping and a rare squirrel hurriedly making a dash into the tree hollow when it caught me spying on it the same way the judge had been observing me. I jolted, having being caught without inhibitions in my own world.

The judge was behind me. How could I not realise? I was always on my guard.

"I hope I had not startled you?" He asked.

"Not at all." I said, civilly, turning to look at him.

I pointed up to the hollow in the tree above us.

"I was preoccupied with a squirrel." I said.

"Beauty...it was a good lunch. Your mother is a good cook." He said, a little hesitantly.

I wondered why on earth my mother's cooking was a solemn matter.

"Beauty...I want to talk to you about some things about that other day when we had lunch together." He said.

I could not look at him. That memory was etched so sharply in my mind that to talk about it made me shudder.

"Oh, look at the squirrel again. It is coming out from the hollow now." I said, ignoring his question deliberately.

"Beauty, I behaved badly towards you. I should not have kissed you. I deserved that slap I got." He said.

"Ah, it's now jumping across the branch to the other tree." I said, my eyes still on the squirrel.

"I hold on to my words though. Stoner does not treat his women right. He never did. He doesn't love anything but the thrill of doing something dangerous; that is for revolution. Yes, he is doing something for the greater good but at a cost. He uses women. That is how he is. You were the perfect candidate because you wrote brilliantly for his propaganda." The judge said.

He just had to carry on. I did not want to listen, not right now, because I would start crying again. I missed Stoner alright; the clandestine moments which we had. The discussion of our work, our elaborate, romantic dinners and our one and only night spent together was now in a time warp. It would never happen again.

"Hush, Greg, hush now." I said, raising my fingers to his lips.

"Don't speak about it now. I will cry again. Somehow you always make me cry." I said.

I heard my own voice tremble now. I was not going to cry again.

"Okay. I won't speak of it again." He said.

"Greg, I never got to tell you how much it meant to me that you got me out of the detention facility. There were so many others inside, yet you got only me out of there." I said.

He was silent.

"I owed you a favour, remember?" He asked.

"Had you not a debt to repay, would you have done so?" I asked.

He did not answer me but he gazed even deeper into my eyes. There seemed to be some conflict within him. I did not pester him.

Events and happenings in life work in mysterious ways. Had I not kept his secret, he would not have helped me when I needed it most.

"Then, I'm glad we are on equal footing." I said, extending my hand to him.

"Friends." I said, when he braced my hands with his warm ones.

"How did you know I was arrested?" I asked.

"The BBC has broadcasted the event on their news network. You were very brave. You protected Stoner. They called you "The Angel" for what you did. Had you ran, you would not have been caught." He said.

"How is Stoner? Have you heard from him?" I asked.

"He is well. Hillary is taking good care of him. I've not heard from him but that is what our Matthew says." He said.

The one judge I knew left soon after saying his goodbyes to my parents. But he did not say goodbye to me. Well, he had forgotten. I saw him drive away until I could spot his car no longer at the horizon.

My mother must have been watching me at the gate, long after his car was gone. She startled me by speaking to me first.

"He said he likes my cooking," my mother said, beaming.

"That's nice of him to say so." I said, shuffling with my sandals on the pavement.

"Invite him over again for lunch." She said.

"He is a busy man. I don't know him that well either." I said.

I felt like I had lost him. Then with a heavy heart, I walked back into the house, back to the hustle and bustle of family life. My parents were entertaining to say the least. I treasured them a lot despite their idiosyncrasies.

"To know someone better, you would have to spend more time with them." My mother said with a sharp look in her eyes.

"If you want to know him better, why not you invite him for lunch?" I snapped.

"And this guy you've been seeing - this Stoner, where is he when you needed him most?" She asked.

"I don't know, mum. You don't have to rub it in. I'm feeling very hurt that he is not with me because he should have been here." I said, very honestly.

Well, after that, my mother did not question me anymore. She sensed my distress, and left me alone. She was never a good counsellor. Happy times were shared but sad times like these, I was mostly alone with her knowledge of me crying it out by myself.

...

For two weeks after that, I buried myself in work, my parents and friends outside the legal circle. I managed to get myself a mobile with a new number and with regret, I found that I did not have the judge's number to remember him by. I was disappointed that I could no longer keep in touch with him despite being friends. Or maybe we had an uneasy alliance but that was about it. I did not remember Stoner's number either given that I always speed-dial.

I supposed I could have called their office numbers but I just did not feel like doing so. Stoner did not contact me through office which I silently prayed that he would. Because we were in love, weren't we not?

Stoner did come to see me just as I was leaving office one pleasant evening. The weather was perfect. He was dressed in a checkered shirt and a pair of loose pants. He had not been at work, I could tell from his choice of clothes.

"Bea, thank God you are alright!" He lunged into me, and peppered my face with kisses.

"Where have you been these two weeks?" I asked.

"Working. I had been so busy. With all the attention from international news agencies, I was doing interviews and stuff. I told them that you were indeed an angel. I also finally kicked Hillary out of my life." He said.

"I thought you had kicked her out long ago." I retorted.

"Oh...she kept coming back. What was I to do? I had more important matters on my mind than some crazy woman." He said.

"Doesn't matter. Why did you use my e-mail account and distribute your own pamphlets in my name?" I asked.

"Because I was too important to get caught. Do you understand, Bea, that if I were caught, no one would continue my work. The people would suffer. I was their leader. I had to lead. I knew you were able to get out of that mess. After all, your judge seemed to take quite a liking for you. In fact, he was smitten with you." Stoner said.

"What?" I asked.

"I knew you were going to be alright. Your judge caused such a fanfare in court to gather support for you from the other judges. I just had to watch to see how amusing it was. Judges after all, should not be involved in politics, strictly speaking." Stoner said.

"And you did not do anything to get me out?" I asked.

"There was no need to, Bea. You were well taken care of. You would get through by and by. Now you are the symbol of the revolution. You are the poster girl now; the Joan of Arc. Don't you get it? Have you not seen your photos as a human shield in front of the tank while Hillary carried me to safety? We're all over now in the papers. We're making headlines, Bea. The reforms are coming, I can sense that." He said.

His voice was oozing with excitement. He was seeing things from a whole different perspective from what I saw. I saw only love betrayed; not dreams achieved.

Did I fight for our country's freedom of expression and speech? Yes I did. Yet I was not wholly into it the way Stoner was. We had been living in fear of the authorities ever since I could remember. I did not mind if it did not change overnight. It is a crude fact but we have all been subjugated for so long that it could wait. We no longer knew what real sunlight was. We only felt sunlight through window panes.

"I did it for you, Stoner. For you! I did not choose to be a sacrificial lamb." I cried with hurt in my voice.

"And it's working, I tell you. It's going to be a very effective revolution. A photograph is worth a thousand words. Our photo has been selected for the Peace Prize Photograph of the Year." Stoner said.

"Our photo? Ironically a threesome isn't it?" I asked, my voice slicing through the words.

A sudden wave of jealousy weaved through me as quick as a blink of the eye.

"Why didn't you give any interviews? I'm sure you had many news agencies calling you non-stop. You could have been famous. Tell your side of the story. What you did to save me. What was going on in your mind when you used yourself as a human shield." Stoner said.

"I'm uneasy with attention, Stoner. I want to help the freedom movement but I'm not really a people person." I said.

"Then it's too bad, isn't it, Bea? You can't do both at the same time. Something has got to give. You can't have your cake and eat it too." Stoner said.

I clicked on the button of my car keys. I was going home now. Just a few steps away from the car parked right in front my office.

"Don't be immature, Bea. See beyond it. We were the epitome of solidarity in the midst of chaos. We are all equal. We fight for the same thing - our freedom!" Stoner said passionately.

"Bea, of course I care about you. Have I not been devoting all my free time with you? But I cannot comprehend why you cling to me so much. You have to be more independent. You have to get a grip on yourself. You're much more capable than you think you are." He said.

I walked towards the driver's seat of the car. I opened the door. I would lose in an altercation with Stoner. He was always right. I was either always selfish, wrong or dumb.

Yet Stoner slammed the door shut the moment I pulled the lever open. He was not letting me go easily.

"Why are you here, Stoner?" I asked, feeling tired at our merry-go-round conversation.

"I would like to have dinner with you." Stoner replied.

"So that you can propose another project?" I asked.

"Well, now that you said it, yes, but only after we have had time to ourselves. I do have a few suggestions you might like." The handsome Stoner said, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"No, Stoner. It's over. I'm done with you. What we had was special and you ruined it. You did not respect me enough to tell me what you were doing with my writing. You used my name for your propaganda and my e-mail to spread your message across. When I was detained at the Lake Side, you did not bother. At the least, you could work with the judge." I said.

"So it's always back to the judge again, isn't it? Is that why you're not going out with me anymore? Did you return the favour by warming him in bed?" Stoner yelled at me.

"No. This has nothing to do with the judge. You betrayed my trust." I shouted back at Stoner.

Stoner yanked the top buttons off his shirt.

"This, Bea...what is this? Damn you, I have been wearing this cheap trash since you gave it to me. I trusted you, Bea, and just because I don't come rescuing you like a knight in shining armour, you head for the first Tom, Dick and Harry that comes along. Typical of you, isn't it? You have no mind of your own. The same way I had to get you to write that article for me." He kept on shouting.

He flicked the necklace from his neck and threw it on the ground.

Hot tears welled up my eyes. I was furious.

"I put my life in danger for you when you were unconscious lying by a pile of trash. You have no decency to thank me. Instead you come hurling insults at me! Everything you say about me and the judge is untrue." I cried.

I felt very disappointed. It could have been a lovely relationship had there been trust and openness, not selfishness and self-endurance masked in the name of freedom.

"Are you sure? You stand to lose if you do not have my association. I am the most eligible bachelor after all." Stoner warned.

"I have lost enough, and I am content to be without you." I replied.

"No, that's not true! You always wanted me." Stoner raised his voice.

He gripped my wrists tightly. I forced myself free from his tight grip.

"Let me go!" I said to Stoner.

"Bea..." Stoner said, his voice rigid.

"Whom do you love more, Stoner? Your freedom fighting or me? Tell me the truth." I said softly.

"You, Bea, you! That's without question." Stoner said, looking right into my eyes.

I looked at this perfect specimen of a man with his melodious voice and strive for freedom. How he had captivated me and still he does; setting my heart aflutter with wings which would fly. Yet this time I did not take-off. I could not go out with a man who concealed things from me and who put his cause ahead of me. This man also thought quite lowly of me.

Yes, dear reader, perhaps I am not selfless enough to give in to a greater cause if things were to remain the same with Stoner. It was either the man or the cause now; not both melded into one. I had to choose.

"Stoner, I want to fight for freedom too. But I'll do it on my own terms. I'll definitely help you but not as your girlfriend. You don't need to play the Casanova just to get me to do something. You can tell me what it is and if I agree with it, I'll help you. No strings attached." I said.

Stoner was silent. He let go of his one hand at the car door and released his grip on my wrists. He was willing to take the fact that I was still going to help him with the cause. Yes, he loved my help alright.

"If you say so, Bea. But one day you'll return to me, the same way that I'll always come to you." He said.

I looked at him and gave him a light kiss on his cheeks.

"We might very well do that. After all, Stoner, I had told you right from the start that I was never going to forget you ever." I said.

"Friends for now? But I do love you, Bea." He said.

"Friends. But you don't love me enough." I replied.

"What about dinner tonight?" He asked, with a hint of trepidation in his eyes.

I smiled and shook my head.

"Another day perhaps, Stoner. Have a safe drive back to Rhine." I said.

He gave me a bear hug and waited as I started my car. Through the front mirror, I could see him standing still waving at me. I saw him pick up the necklace and string it back around his neck. I looked back until I could see him no more when my car turned around a corner.