Graciella, Patrick Sean Lee [ebook reader below 3000 TXT] 📗

The park was empty, save our two bodies; faces so close that the tiny white dots descending between us jumped in agitation when they met our breaths.

Despite the certainty in my mind that she cared for me, my heart failed me. My courage vanished once again. I stood, defeated by myself, and left her. I’d gotten but ten paces away when her soft, confused voice stopped me dead in my tracks, turning me back with its beauty.

“Martin! What is it? Why are you leaving? What have I said?”

I could see it in her eyes, she really didn’t know. What in God’s name was she thinking? What naïveté possessed her?

The storm rolling down onto the city intensified; the gentle flakes gathered in numbers and force, driven, suddenly, by a growing wind. I returned and helped her to her feet.

“What, Martin? What is it?” she asked.

“There’s a blizzard coming.” I paused. “Meet me tomorrow night at seven. Garimendi’s. I’ll buy you dinner. I’ll explain everything then. I have to go.” She helped me fold the blanket in silence, offering no affirmation or rejection of my invitation, and then we walked away from our tree, out of the park, in opposite directions.

I spent the remainder of the day sitting on a hard, wooden chair beneath my apartment window, staring out at the fierceness of the snow rushing by on its side at light speed. I couldn’t eat for the fiercer storm in my head, wondering, frightened, playing out the coming drama in a thousand different endings. Had Graciella gone to her home? Was she sitting beneath a window, staring out like a fool at nothing? At ten o’clock, exhausted, I crawled into my bed and left the blizzard to fill the city to the tops of the trees if it chose.

“Let me sleep until tomorrow evening, God. I don’t want to wake up until it’s time. Rest. Strength—courage. Please, give me just those few small things.”

 

                                     *

Graciella’s eyes are diamonds and coal. She is a mystery in a way, but she is here, dressed like a queen. She hasn’t said a thing, yet, beyond “Hello, Martin.” I have put my dread far away, have forgotten my loathsome appearance. What does it matter now?

“Let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here,” I say. She peers into my eyes with that look of complete understanding, smiling. Her hand comes to rest on my arm, gently halting my movement toward the door.

“Wait. Look at me, Martin.”

I am frozen. Not by the weather, but by the calm majesty of her command. Oh, Graciella. I force myself to answer obediently with my eyes. I lock them onto hers, knowing the time has already escaped, unnoticed. I know what she is about to say.

Imprint

Text: (c) Patrick Sean Lee 2010
Publication Date: 12-22-2010

All Rights Reserved