"You're not a bad dresser yourself, "She squeezed his hand, then released it to pick up her knife and fork, "But you tend to play it safe. Black with white, brown with white, grey with white…"
"I'm not…" just then a waiter appeared, and Mark pointed at her scrambled eggs, "But no juice," he turned to her as the waiter left, "I was saying…"
"Not good with colors, I remember. You're okay though," she tilted her head and smiled at him as she chewed. He loved it.
"Just okay?"
"Would you have liked it to be more?"
"Yes," he leaned closer, "More than I'll ever hope to find anywhere else," he whispered. She regarded him with a hint of seriousness through her smile then leaned forward too,
"Then stop playing it safe, Mark. Remember the wind poem?" He smiled at the memory,
"I wouldn't forget…"
"I told you to dare. So dare, if you want more than just 'okay'.
" Challenge accepted. Starting now. Lisa," he cleared his throat, "I'm taking you out today."
"Um… where?"
"Well, um… do you know a nice place…" he stammered, but she interrupted him by holding up her hand, "Black, white. Try a different combination…"
"Okay… Lisa, I'm taking you out. I found this nice place…"
"Brown, white," she interrupted him again, but it was his turn to hold up his hand, "No, I'm sure this one is great. In the wild."
"Now, I'm intrigued. Is it dangerous and full of all wild creatures?" She asked in a small voice, hands clutched and pressed to her cheek. It was her eyes that drove him mad though, the challenge in them, the unspoken question of how far he was daring to go.
"Yeah it is," he whispered, eyes gleaming with mischief. He still felt like thanking someone or something out loud; only he didn't know who or what. "I have the place in mind," he smiled mysteriously.
"You're not serious. You'll take me to the coffee place." She said accusingly. Her plate was already empty just as he arrived.
"I am serious. In Sinai Walk."
"Well," she did him a once over just as he had done to her earlier, looking at him from head to- he was sitting but rather than lean over to check, she peered under the table. Scrutiny done, she looked at him, "Orange, navy blue."
"That?" Sounds daring!"
"It is. Always dare." She leaned back. He remained thoughtful for a moment then looked at her, "Lisa, I… there's an unspoken question between us…"
"Yeah, there is. A few things actually…"
"But one requires that we lay it out bare…"
"You're talking about our respective relationship status or lack of in my case." She guessed correctly, and his silence confirmed it. He thought of Vivian for a moment, wondering if this would be the best time to tell Lisa? Or perhaps while out there in the bush… Perhaps after his time out with Lisa. Will she understand whatever is going on between me and Vivian? His mind snapped back to the present when he realized that Lisa had said something, which he had failed to get.
"I'm sorry my mind drifted, you were saying?"
"I said, I presume a guy like you has a girl waiting for him somewhere."
"I would say the same about you, but I presume there's no one."
"You heard me say it."
"I did. I'm curious though." Plate cleared, he pushed it away from him.
"Um…" she started to say then seemed to think better of it. Instead, she seemed to think if something that brightened her facial features, " Tell you what Mark," she leaned closer, "Let's just enjoy ourselves as two adults without any ill intent would. To tell you the truth, the last few days with you have been great for me. Let's just enjoy each other's company before our time is up, and we part ways."
"Seconded." He held up a finger despite the sinking feeling at her words 'we part ways'.
"Point to note," he hoped he was as brave as he sounded as he said it, "You can ask me anything regarding that part of my life. If not now…" he chocked slightly, "Someday."
"Well-noted," she seemed not to have noticed his emotional turmoil, "Permission not granted on this side of the table, though…"
"Understood…" he could have cried right there and then.
*****
"Isn't a task, finding such rare and endangered animals as pangolins?" They were in his car, headed for the spot he had promised to take her. Mind still replaying her words, 'we part ways' and 'permission not granted…' he turned them over and over in his head, wondering what she could have meant in the second phrase. Perhaps is just having a good time whereas I have fallen for her, he thought despairingly, and once the time is up as she says, she'll leave. I'll never see her again… he glanced at her as she stared straight ahead, a pensive look on her face. He wondered if she was thinking of anything closely related to what he was agonizing about.
"It is," he felt as if his voice was detached from his feelings as he spoke, "That's why finding them and preserving their image for posterity is so satisfying," he glanced at her, "At the same time it raises awareness."
"How?" he seemed not to have understood her question from the way he frowned, "I mean- how does it raise awareness?" She elaborated. Why don't you want to discuss relationships, he asked her in his mind, if you're not in one? Are you afraid of commitment?
"Well, we hold public exhibitions twice or thrice a year- various groups and clubs of photographers and conservationists I'm a part of- and we give short lectures on the various animals we exhibit. Where they live, how they live, and the dangers they face. Through donations and grants, we are then able to take measures to alleviate where we can."
"You love what you do," she turned to him, but he did not look at her, "The way you explain it says it all."
"I do. And when I'm passionate about something I never let go," he paused, thinking of all the questions he would have loved to ask her, "Or someone."
Whether it was intentional or not, she did not seem to take note of the implication and emphasis in his last words. They had arrived at the same place he always packed his car. Easing it in under the canopy, he stopped and switched it off. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. Beside him, he could tell she was looking at him. He was right.
"Mark," he heard her move closer, "Is something bothering you?" He opened his mouth ready with the words, 'Oh, no, no. I'm fine. Let's head to that spot I promised to take you to,' but recalling the challenge she had put to him regarding daring more, he nodded without opening his eyes. He felt her shift in her seat, and his eyes flew open when he heard the door unlocking. She got out as he scrambled from his side. She had walked a short distance away and was looking far into the horizon. The sun was yet to blaze since it was still morning, but its warmth did nothing for the chill that had Mark rushing to her side. He was about to open his mouth but decided against it. He would draw her out. They remained as they were for long while standing side by side, each deep in thought, Mark wondering why love was so cruel; why can't it be simple? He wondered. Why complications and sensitive feelings? Whoever had said love sucked was right, he decided. High above the young morning sun did its best to try and cheer the world by making colorful flower petals open, grateful birds chirp, whistle and tweet, and buzzing insects add to the nature music by darting around and about, but it could do nothing for the couple standing a short distance from their car and not speaking to each other. They did not return its sunny generosity, and so it allowed several clouds to hide the view below from it.
Mark looked around him as the sun suddenly disappeared, and a slight chill took to the air. He glanced up, wondering if it would rain… but it was hard to tell, though Jake had seemed to be able to tell the signs. A few feet away, Lisa stood, looking about her too. He was looking at her as she turned and their eyes met. He felt that agonizing sweet feeling overcome him as he debated on what to do? Dare ask personal questions at the risk of incensing her, or wait for her to come to him? She did.
"Mark," she stopped a short distance away, "Will you be able to?"
"The honest truth? No, Lisa, the questions will be my undoing."
"Do you regret anything so far?"
"Nothing. Given a choice, I would do it all over again."
"But not with questions in your mind."
"Not with unanswered questions in my mind." He walked towards the car and leaned against it. He invited her by indicating with his chin, and she joined him, leaning next to him, though he noted that she made sure to keep some distance between them. They continued gazing out ahead of them. She turned to him, "Was this the spot you promised?" Despite himself, he gave her a withering look, and they both laughed.
"To tell you the truth," she spoke softly, while still gazing out into the horizon, "I failed myself."
"How so?"
"I was sure nothing would come out of it, but after seeing you in that cave, muddy and torn, a switch was flipped. A switch that is yet to reset. It was further compounded by that moment in your room…" Mark gasped audibly at the memory while she continued, "I've never felt this…" she trailed off, perhaps for lack of a better word. Mark knew it though; he knew the words he would have used to describe the fact that he had never felt that too- deeply in love. He has a strong compulsion to provide those words to her, but he chose to remain quiet. He kicked the dirt around his feet and suddenly wondered if this was what daring meant; letting his feelings free, going for that which he felt was right, and where necessary, providing that missing or those missing words. True he could have respected her wishes, had a good time without probing her, and once their time was up 'parted ways'. But then what afterward? Would he find peace? Would he start looking for 'good times' then 'parting ways' afterward? What if he wanted the good time to last, with her? What if perhaps, just as Vivian Dionte had done, the woman next to him needed just a listening ear and an understanding heart? For moments were rare, and Mark knew it. If he did not start making his own, then years afterward, he would try to recall at least one, and they would all turn out to be someone else's, never his. For them to be his, Mark Thinn had to make them. And Lisa Fellows was a part of it. He turned to her, "Let's go."
*****
The spot was just as he had found it the previous day. All the same, he paused and setting down the heavy bag containing camping gear, he winced at the pain in his side and appraised the place anew. Indigenous flowers thrived side by side with exotic ones. Had he known plant names, he would have recognized verbenas, bougainvilleas, petunias, black-eyed susans, California poppy…
Setting the bag under a tree, looked around as Lisa walked among the flowers, gently touching their petals and carefully sniffing them. He saw her walk to the small brook where she knelt and admired her reflection in the clear water. Suddenly and for an overpowering moment, Mark understood why she had dedicated her life to defending nature and animals. Just looking around him, he realized how simple everything was, for it was just nature; trees, shrubs, leaves, and flowers, but at the same time something about it was beyond man, and that something was what man defined as beauty. That was what he couldn't replicate. He could till the ground, dig a channel, bring in seeds but that part where he stood back and could do nothing more, that is where the beauty was, that is where nature's allure lay. Feeling amazed by his realization, he glanced over at Lisa who was still kneeling by the water's edge and trailing her fingers in the water. She glanced up and noticed him looking at her, and she smiled. Just a simple smile, but just like his nature analogy, what that smile did to him, right there, that was beauty, and those were the moments that he had come to make.
Finding a suitable spot, mark cleared the ground, leveled it, and set up the tent. He had thought of bringing foods that they might have prepared together but had discarded the idea at the last moment by thinking that perhaps he was overdoing it. Now, as he lined the inside of the tent and admired how great it looked, he regretted his decision. He crawled out of the tent to see Lisa standing outside, giving it what he hoped was an admiring, if not awed look.
"Not much I know…" he started, half in and half out the tent.
"It's perfect," she said simply and without pretense. He believed her.
"It's the little, seemingly insignificant things that matter. Never yearn for the big," she said as she stood aside to let him stand.
"I'm glad you like this place." He smiled at her.
"I do and especially the flowers."
"For a moment I thought you'd miss the animals. I'm yet to see any here."
"Plants are interesting too if you think about it," she waved around, "Very simple, very unassuming, but very beautiful and meaningful to our lives."
"Where you say plants, I say Lisa," he stepped closer and stood behind her where she was, in front of the tent, "And where you say 'our' I say 'my'. Everything singular."
"Oh," she reached behind her and took his arm, to place it around her own waist, "So how will it sound?" She asked softly.
"Lisa is interesting too if you think about it," they rocked from side to side as he continued holding her from behind, "Very simple, very unassuming but very beautiful and meaningful to my life."
"All nature is," she reached with one hand and rubbed his cheek.
"She is one apart." He snuggled closer, till their cheeks touched.
"Who notices?" She crooned.
"The one who holds you. The one who does not want to have a good time, then part ways. The one who has fallen for you, Lisa." She remained quiet. He did not want her to say anything. Just remaining in his embrace was enough, for he had just made a moment he would live to recall.
"So, you must be wondering about me." They were walking around the mini paradise, Lisa admiring every plant and flower, and Mark admiring her in turn.
"I am," she paused to sniff at some geraniums, "Do you have a girlfriend?"
Finally, she had asked it. "I did."
"You broke up?"
"Not in that sense your words imply. It was more like um… 'Mark, I'm holding onto you until you meet a responsible girl who will love you and who you will love back without holding anything back' kind of thing."
Lisa frowned, "I don't understand." Spotting a large, smooth rock sticking out of the ground by some bougainvilleas which had bloomed orange flowers, Mark indicated at it. They walked over and rather than sit on it, sat down on the ground and used it as a backrest. A large bee showed an interest in them, and they indulged it until it had had enough and buzzed lazily away. Mark leaned back and closed his eyes. He let the memories flow into his mind, evicting those he wasn't ready to face yet, and turning the others around in an effort to find the best way to let them out.
"My parents- you mentioned them and- um… you remember?"
"You said you didn't want to talk about it."
"I was eight, and up to this day, I've never been able to talk about it. You know what she told me?"
"Your mum?"
"Vivian."
"Your ex- what did she say?"
"Marry the girl you'll be able to tell your past to."
"Mark, I know it is a serious matter from the way you're talking about it. But does that mean that telling me will be a kind of proposal? And, were you able to tell Vivian?"
He opened his eyes and despite the pain in them, smiled at her, "Tell me something Lisa," she waited expectantly, "Would you want me to tell you if it was just that, a proposal?" She looked into his eyes deeply for a moment, leaned close, kissed him on the lips, "Tell me your story," she whispered, her face still close to his.
"Your question- no, I never told Vivian."
"And that's why you couldn't marry her?" she smiled slightly, "And now your search will search you find the one…"
"Lisa, I witnessed my parents' death…" beads of sweat formed on his brow, and as she grabbed his hand, she could detect the trembling. He had expected profuse apologies from her, but she remained quiet, to his immense relief. No one, he believed, could ever make an impact with their apologies, for the death of his parents. He consulted his mind, took in deep breaths, opened his mo
uth- but no words came out. It was at moments like this that he thanked Vivian for her role in his life all those years, for she had prepared him for such moments. He turned to Lisa,
"I thought it would be easy…" he started as she raised his hand which was still in hers and pressed it to her lips, "It never is," she whispered, "It never is."
The two remained as they were while a settled quietness reigned around and about them. It was not silent though- the bees buzzed, the birds called, cawed, chirped, twittered and whistled. The plants and flowers waved gently, as they passed whatever information the breeze passed through the place to each other.
"My inability to tell you…" he was leaning back head tilted upwards, eyes closed, his hand still in hers, "Doesn't mean you're not worth it, Lisa." He heard her shift slightly, followed by her cool lips on his cheek damp cheek. No verbal reassurance was needed, he knew, as she continued kissing away the flowing tears.
"Mark?" She whispered beside him. He turned slightly, though his eyes remained closed, "You told me."
"I did?" He squeezed her hand.
"You did. You were only unable to talk about it."
"Is there a difference? Should there be?"
"There is a difference, but there doesn't have to be." He felt her shift, moving as close as possible to him, "It is how you choose to make it."
"Then…" he swallowed, "I want the difference," he turned towards her and opened his eyes slowly, "It is a promise."
"You want to ask me about having a good time," she intuited correctly, "And parting ways once our time is up," He nodded. She gazed out straight ahead of them and waited for the question. On the bougainvillea plant nearby, a yellow ladybird landed. Mark watched the tiny insect as it crawled around a leaf, reached the edge, sensed the drop, and drew back. It turned in another direction, and the same thing happened. Just jump to the next leaf, you won't fall! Mark urged the frantic insect in his mind. He held his breath, as having completed a whole circle around the leaf, the ladybird seemed to be about to repeat the whole process as it crawled backward again. He was about to let out a disappointed sigh when the insect tapped the leaf with its six tiny feet, released its wings and- he could have whooped with exhilaration and joy as it soared and landed on the next leaf. Just that, lady! He congratulated the bug in his mind, if one way doesn't work, there's always another.
Lady of Way Page 8
