The Soundtrack To Our Life

Francesca

A chance. It is all we had. A chance is all we got. Those days with you have left me torn in two. Anymore you can find me walking along the pavement hoping someone will stop me, or come back to me, see into my eyes and tell me, “I love you.”

Even though love with you turned utterly treacherous I am never the less impressed at my ability to contort myself around the true terror of being alone. I have frequently made every attempt at compromise at avoiding this condition. In clear and wondrous moments it is a great freedom to give up on love and get on with everything else but this gregarious position is more easily imagined then lived.

Did you realize not answering my calls was betrayal? Did you ever apologize for your shallow lies and opportunities pissed away but I am a child no longer and must not spill with emotion all over the place.

How we met is shrouded in mystery and many false stories. What is important we met briefly and co-existed in this world. To write intimately of those times would be a waste. Only two people living briefly in such high holy places can relate and besides many people have made the mistake of trying to describe emotions with words but those two things are separate for reasons.

I am grateful for all the tiny moments big and small. I learned briefly and more towards the end to show I was in command of the situation by not saying much, I began to want to let you in and keep everyone else at arms length, and only smile kindly to you. But now I live on much more familiar grounds in a subsided rage and depression.

She hurt my feelings so often. Even before she knew I was vulnerable. But when I saw that face framed in our kitchen in whose hands everything seemed to melt I learned slowly that every exquisite strand of blond hair was priceless.

Ah, but the burning of these words……….

Frequently, I stood alone on the deck with a warm feeling from drinking or a bitter taste of goodbye staring up the road at the battered white car that never came. The great dark oasis of winter trees that hung overhead my only company on many a jilted night.

And now…………………..

Now, I cannot tell her. She is hurt.

The years go by. Pile on one after the other. The silence getting louder and louder until memories are blocked out and time moves on furiously. She is gone and there is nothing much else to say.
Earlier tonight, on a train.

Looking around at straggling late travelers maybe looking for a companion, some maybe going home. Out the window the nip and chill of winter and me alone with a heart full of hurt. The paper said it would be a crisp cold. North of the city there would be terrible flurries of snow and a powdery swirly wind was already beginning to form.

We move on. Swaying down the track and I surveyal the place for someone to fall in love with. Luckily for me there was a cocktail bar on the train. Sitting alone in a booth the air is blue and there is the constant sound of the tinkling of ice in glasses. Despite the trains general emptiness this car is completely full. I order from the waiter and close my eyes and fold my hands over my lap. I listen to the sound of merriment noted usually around the holiday season. As usual I am not being watched. Shadows of sympathetic people mingle around. Some tall all with mouthfuls of teeth and eyes.

Waiter arrives with my gin and tonic.

“Still drinking gin?”

“Francesca?”

“Yeah.” Smiles widely.

“I only got up to go to the ladies room. I saw you pass my seat but I figured that could not be you. What are you doing on this train? Actually hold that answer nature calls.”

Just like that all the memories flood back and I am frozen in intimidation. Lord, please let us get off at the same stop. Actually please let this train roll on forever I need time.

“Hey anyway so how you been?”

“Join me for a drink Francesca?”

“I can’t I am with someone.”

“Just one please?”

“Since you put it like that sure. Waiter two more gin and tonics.”

“I can’t get over it. After four years I see you on a train?”

“I know. So who are you with?”

“My fiancé.”

“Oh.”

“Must people say congratulations.” The smile gets even wider.

“Congratulations. So were did you meet this bruiser. Where you headed?”

“Bruiser?”

“I am kidding. So where are you heading?”

“Vermont to spend Christmas with his folks. You?”

“I am heading to Burlington. What part are you heading to?"

“Williston.”

“Who are you with?”

“I am by myself.”

“Why? I mean why come all the way to Vermont to be alone?”

“I travel for love.”

“You have a girlfriend up there.”

“No. I mean I go for the feeling of traveling. I may find a moment of reverie while passing down some strange street. Or find a feeling I have not had before.”

“You mean like you belong?”

“Something like that.”

Francesca takes a long drink of gin and excuses herself to check on her fiancé.
I took the liberty of ordering two more drinks and notice while I get a sliver of lime Francesca gets a big ripe piece. Francesca arrives back.

“He is asleep.”

“Stay and have another?”

“Sure.”

The waiter arrives with two more before we have even finished off the last round. Outside the night sky is a deathly gray as snow beings to pile on the hills beyond. Francesca’s hands are long and slender seductively contoured around the glass.

“I cannot get over seeing you alone on the train…………did you want to be alone.”

“Not now.”

Her eyes seemed even bigger than before. If I let this chance go it will be gone forever.

“What is the matter Michael? You’ve gone silent.”

“Forgive me my mind goes vague sometimes.”

“You were always like that.”

Francesca put her hand on my knee for a second and I feel the electricity shoot through my body. The train rolling down the track. Watching her figure in front of me. I still care so much. Inside of me. If I could only reach out and kiss her my hands reaching beneath her sweater pushing her thin shoulders against the seat as the light shines on her face and my heart strains to be one with hers.

Almost ten years ago when we were so very young.

“Do you remember when we met? How we were in the beginning?”

“Of course.” As that thousand watt smile lights up her face.

We met at a dance. We were both with other people and I wanted to take her by her brown (natural hair color) and kiss those radiant lips. I attempted to make small talk with her but she ignored me for the most part. After the dance there was a huge party and I stood at its edges. She arrived with her date while mine was off in the kitchen with friends. I wanted to go home but when I saw her come I did not want to leave. I was torn between my obligation in the kitchen and my desire that stood only a few feet a way.

Francesca floated through the room joining in different circles and eventually we met again face to face and I saw her for who she was here. She was a plaything for this crowd and when she attempted to be coy with me I dismissed her right in front of her crowd and walked out the front door.

I stood out on the porch alone in the misty morning after dawn. Minutes later she stepped out to speak to me.

“If you stopped your little act of silence and sulking and joined the fun you could actually have a good time.”

She stepped back and put her hand beneath my chin and lifted it up. In those few seconds she deflated all the confidence I had gained inside.

“Look at me and smile. I am commanding you to look at me, now smile, come on Michael. OK.”

That was many years ago now. Here we sat on the train. Her with her fiancé and me alone. The more things change the more things stay the same.

Those tumultuous years together but now I have learned to remain silent and not give into emotions like I once had done. She was constantly leaving me and coming back days later. We had tortured each other with jealousy, betrayal we tore down our faith in each other to only turn around days later to build it all back up again. She hated when I would not chase her accusing me of not caring and then when I gave chase I was accused of not giving her space. The best and worst years all rolled into a four-year storm.

“What are you thinking about Michael?”

“Honestly? The time you told me that no one would come to my funeral.”

“Why?”

“Because of the position in which we see each other again.”

Looking out the window at the flash of orchards and white snow heavy grass.

“Maybe I will head back to my seat.”

“One more round, please?”

“I have always had a hard time saying no to that face.”

“Alright, one last one.”

Why did I invite her for another? Why invite back the disaster to the heart and the laughter and confusion.

She reaches over a hand and I put my hand on hers and her skin is softer than I ever thought it could be. The lies we tell each other to bring about complete delusion. She is still built beautifully. Outside a white carpet of snow.
There are tears coming down here eyes.

I slide next to her and kiss her on the brow.

“Tell me nice things so I can believe them forever,” she whispers up into my face her lips so close to mine. Those honey blossom lips that could draw love out of a stone. She talked close to my ear. I could almost taste her voice both low and friendly. Her skin is lily white all of her too pretty for words. She excuses herself for the bathroom.

The last round of drinks arrives. I took the glass with the bigger lime and took a long, long drink from it. I stood up and looked around and proceeded to the back of the car to the bathroom.

As I stood outside of the ladies room it occurred to me this was one of the very few times I acted without the enabling of alcohol. No sir, I was running high on emotion and when she opened the bathroom door she gasped as I pushed her into the bathroom and locked the door behind us both. I kissed her languidly on the mouth and pressed her against the sink. With both my hands I pulled her by her sweater roughly into me and she responded kissing deeply and rubbing her tongue inside the ridges of my mouth. To think this woman for so long sat so far from me. Pressing against my belly. The smell of her breath bitter from the gin. Kissing her eyes. Licking her closed lids. Tell her how I wanted to step out into the world in the best suit speaking to her in my best voice calm and steady. She is so soft and full of warmth.

I have no friends. No respect. No family. I pour it all in my kiss. I pour it all down Francesca’s throat. I never went bald from worry though.

The ground I walked on she once worshipped. Wincing in my heart. Lifting her sweater and wrestling with the clasp of her bra. Her legs straddling my waist as her ass is buoyed on the sink. “I need you,” I whisper in her ear. Green eyes staring into mine no words from her just a hiss. She finds the chink in my spirit. All the wasted time as my hands slide up her thighs. Roaming for her heart the unblessed visage. Hands reaching out in the silence.

Her hand loosening my belt and pulling at the zipper. I was ready and frozen. I am low down. I have nothing in the world. A vague apartment I could not afford. In my own lonely world entering into hers. All the longing in that kiss four years of solitude. Lock the bathroom door. The curtains drawn tight. Oh God, Francesca hold me let me die and carry me away.

“You have the most beautiful body I have ever seen.”

The sink shakes as I enter Francesca no rubber or anything. Closing my arms tightly around her lanky soul. I lift her sweater and kiss her breasts light beams from a lonely lighthouse. I could feel her heartbeat raising her knees pushing further and further in. The tears streaming from her eyes. I lick the salty taste away the sunflower scent of her breath. Her head is rolling sliding her hands down my back pulling at my skin. The warble of birds outside on tree branches and under the stars me groaning no musical. Crashing into the hedge looking at the tiniest lines of age crinkled beneath her eyes.

Was I ever honest?

You will be all right. Outside…..

I could not bear to hear no more either tears in my eyes too. Say yes to love. Say yes to seeing our babies grow. The whole world is behind us. Sentimental. Fingers slipping. The shade drawn dawn on the brain, on morals, obligations. Glued together. She is a queen with her hair like sugar cane and her face and lips softy sweet to the touch. I can’t help but smile. Driving further and further in. The train goes through the tunnel. Everything goes dark. Pushing closer and closer all the time. Nature gave you everything Francesca.

Nights now at its lonely worst. The whole car seems to be trembling. Her breathing is heavy. A sad victim of will power. The lights go green. Sadness and deals. Perspiration. Fingers peeling at each other. The train carrying us all humming down the track. Threading myself deeper into Francesca. “I love you,” I whisper close to her ear. She replies in kind. My hand lands on top of hers and I crush it down until her ring cuts into my skin and draws a faint line of blood.

“You like to be quiet and I am like that too.”

“We must hurry.”

“Hurry.”

A knock at the door.

“Uno momento por favor.”

“Come on Michael.”

She sticks her tongue deep into my ear. I gulped. Lips all dust and grime. Stars behind my eyelids as I let go. A white river flowing into her. All the loneliness. All the world dissolves in a stream under eves quiet and peaceful.

Nothing will light up again.

Francesca wiping away the tears and pushing down her skirt. “I need a minute please.”

I excuse myself under the staring eyes of a woman. “Please excuse my wife the fish did not agree with her. You may want to find another restroom.”

I go back to the drink.

A few minutes later she emerges looking brand new again and passes directly by my seat and goes back presumably to the fiancé asleep all the while.

I drain the second drink when a conductor announces my stop. I go back to my seat and collect my things and look around wildly for Francesca. People rising and collecting things make it impossible to see as the loud sound of steam is released into the air. Monstrous purring engine whispering under the long black hood charging through the dark.

Conductor and commuters trying to get past. I stepped down off the train. The light shining yellow under a green glass shade in the station office. I stood solitaire beside the train no one to greet me at the station and I looked up. I would have given anything to have her get off the train with me. I figured she would be looking out the window. I stood transfixed looking up. The first few windows begin to pass me by and no one looking out. The next car passes all windows empty. Looking up as the final car passes and gee not a soul looking down on me.

Final:

In my minds eyes I can see her still just as visibly as when I met her. Radiant and buxom, bursting with beauty that concealed a shyness, which was perplexing. She had a warm, generous mouth filled with large, dazzling white teeth. Her eyes, an emerald green and extremely limpid, full and round with life. She stood out from the other girls and swept me off my feet that day besides the river.

Although the courtship was one of utter frustration I learned over time of the icy blue blood in her veins and even without a photograph her image is still carried inside of me all these years later. She is always there, above my heart, above my mind like a goddess and after she was gone I gnashed my teeth, wept like a fool and even prayed to a God I no longer believed in.

She will forever remain the flaming image. In this precarious position she is a blank slate on which I will always fatuously inscribe what I wish. I imagine I am for her as well. The iron curtain has fallen between us.

It is the end. Yet not an end. In all the years that have elapsed she remains the women I have loved and lost. The unattainable. In her eyes I see myself forever and forever the ridiculous man, the lonely soul, chasing the ghost which may or may not have ever been there.