CHAPTER TEN
The cafeteria was full that Thursday; all seats were taken and the place was kind of uncomfortably crowded and noisy. I saw Phil and some friends sitting at the far end of the hall, I think he saw me too.
"So you still not talking?" It was Henry, sitting beside me with a cup of juice.
"Yes, I don't see any reason to." I replied. "He doesn't want us to be friends anymore."
"I see." He said. "Too bad; it is true what they say about women; that sometimes, they turn your friends to your foes."
"He's not my foe. And what do women got to do with it?"
"A woman, Pam, was the reason for all this. Don't shy away from that. She made you foes. I saw the way you two behaved during the game; you treated each other like you were in a fatal battle."
"We were in a battle Henry. It's all about the game."
"It's about you two, not the game." He sipped his juice. "Look mate, I don't know what you intend to do about this, but just ask yourself one question: is it all worth it? You have been friends with Phil for years, you just met Pam. I only hope you are not making a mistake sticking with her alone and letting go of your friendship with Phil." He sipped his juice again. "She's here, I'll see you in class."
I didn't observe when his eyes drifted off mine to notice Pam's entrance, I just turned and she was coming towards our table.
"Hi" She said with a curt smile.
"Hey." I replied.
Maybe it's my eyes or mind, but as she stood there, I still observed how paler she got from our last meeting.
That evening we were sitting on the benches by the Greenhouse at the park. The sky was clear and colours were vivid, she was wearing the white jacket over a purple T-shirt.
"How do you like my beads?" She smile and let her finger cares the large long strips of beads on her neck.
"They are big." I said and she laughed. "They are colourful. Where do you get them from?"
"London. I think they got them shipped from Africa."
"Is that right? They are nice and they look nice on you. But what is it you would love to do or become in your life?" I asked.
"Why do you ask?"
"Why won't I? I showed you a piece of my world, I don't think telling me about yours should be a problem."
"It's not a problem, but it took you so long to ask the question. You think I don't want to talk about it the way you talked about yours with so much enthusiasm?"
"Was I sounding so enthusiastic?"
"Yes you were; every bit of it."
I smiled. "Oh; I never felt I did. Sorry."
"You don't need to apologise, it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's ok."
"So, are you going to tell me about what I asked?"
She sighed, paused for a moment before talking. "I want to be an actress."
"Whoa! That's big." We laughed. "It's good."
"It is?" She asked and I nodded "Actually, I would like to be the next Catherine Zeta Jones."
"And that's bigger." We laughed again. "It's cool."
"So, I got a lot of things going on; I took acting, ballet and fighting classes."
"Fighting?"
"Kick boxing."
"Oh, should I be afraid?"
"May be you shouldn't be comfortable from now on." We laughed again.
Something happened just when we stopped laughing. It was as if she was about to say something difficult; something hard. It was the way she looked when I was making the sketch of her and the swans. She sighed.
"But it's only a dream." She said; almost in a whisper. "It's only a dream."
"I don't understand." I said.
"It's complicated. I'm not going to live up to it."
I knew exactly what she meant by that. I know she was referring to her illness as the cause for the demise of her dream.
"What are you talking about, Pam?" I demanded.
She sighed and looked squarely at me. "I'm sick, Brad. I have a fatal illness, I won't live that long to be what I want to be." My mouth was opened. "You came to the hospital when I got sick but you never asked me what's wrong with me even after we became friends. I know you thought it was just an illness right? That I'd get better and move on. Well, it's a lot more complicated than that, I'll never get better." She paused, looked away from my face.
I watched her, my mouth still opened. Though I've known her medical condition before now, but hearing it from her own mouth happened to be a different experience. I've never heard a statement so devoid of hope, so dry and bitter like that. She said it with a fallen spirit that doesn't seem to make an effort to rise again.
My eyes were already misty; I tried not to speak in order not to risk the tears coming out of the eyes.
"Say something, damn it!" She demanded. "Don't allow me keep saying things I hate to say."
I still couldn't say a word for the next couple of seconds; my mouth moved but no word came out of it. I guess I was in a shock as if I was hearing it for the first time. Her eyes were on me and I got a little confused.
"Don't say anything, please." I said without thinking whether or not it's the right thing to say at the moment. "Just don't speak."
She kept looking at me, and in a moment, her eyes formed tears. I moved close and embraced her. "Don't say a word." I whispered.
As she cried on me, I felt overwhelmed by intense love and pity; I cried with her.
My Favourite Muse Page 13
