The Writer (7 page)

I smiled to
myself.

“Dog, I’m going to marry
that Girl.” I whispered to him. Alfred barked in
agreement.

Chapter 23

“This time, I want to go
with you,” I said. “I don’t want to stay here on my own with
Alfred.”

“Who’ll take care of him
while we’re all there?” She asked concerned.

“The neighbours,” I
pointed to the backyard. “They can all take turns feeding him.
Besides, it’s summer, he won’t mind too much.”

She smiled at
me.

“Are you sure you want to
go?” she asked, pushing a strand of her hair behind her
ear.

I looked over the photos
she had taken, the ones we had printed for her
Fundraiser.

We had approached many
fabric manufacturers again, this time showing them the concrete
impact of their previous contributions. Many people were moved by
the poverty-stricken children, how little they seemed to have, and
yet the riches that their smile promised.

The orphanage itself was
in decrepitude, the walls were literally falling to pieces. The
little furniture and possessions they did have, they kept as clean
and tidy as they could. The real meaning of Gratitude transpired in
their way of life.

The blankets, which Joy
and Josh had brought with them, had held a central part of the
happiness seen in the photos she had taken. Even though their
contribution had been small, the wondrous new colors had added a
touch of Magic to the place. The children’s eyes sparkled like the
purest Mountain River in the sun.

Peering over the photos, I
ached. I wish I had been there, been part of it. I now understood
better her need to go back.

Joy explained to me how
the Orphanage received some subventions annually to keep the place
running. They had enough to just get by, afford the staff, the
food, and the bare necessities, no luxuries. Somehow, some way, she
wanted to make it better.

She started by buying old
beaded necklaces, and old worn out clothes from second hand shops.
She, and her Rainbow Warriors, started not only personalizing the
blankets, but some of the clothes as well.

They made hearts, clovers,
suns, and obviously Rainbows out of the sparkly gems: Joy’s
ingenious idea.

As my thoughts floated all
around her, I made a note to myself to purchase new and bigger
luggage for her.

“When do you want to
leave? I asked. “I have to be back for my September
courses.”

June was already here,
which did not leave much time.

“How about leaving this
week then?” she asked, smiling broadly.

And so, we did.

“A photo for posterity,”
she said, as the plane slowly landed. “You should have it now,” she
added, handing me a leather-bound journal. “You can log your
thoughts in there during our travels.” She smiled, kissing my
cheek.

I wish I had something to
say, I thought to myself.

Looking back now, I
realize one should always be careful about what they wish for. As
the Dalai Lama once said, sometimes not getting what you want is a
wonderful stroke of luck. I had not realized just how lucky I had
been up to this point.

Chapter 24

For once in my life, I
could not find any of the words to describe the overwhelming
emotions I felt when we arrived at the orphanage. I expected a drab
environment, with sad lonely children. What I found was the
definition of Love at its purest form.

The smiles these little
ones carried around, like banners of happiness, will warm me
forever on the coldest winter day.

How could children, with
so very little to their name, remain untouched by the world’s
indifference? This orphanage was a shelter, a sanctuary, where song
and dance was at the core of its foundation.

As we made our way through
the entrance, a great number of children ran to us. They were
cheering and hugging both Joy and I, as though they had known us
all their life.

I smiled and waved,
forgetting myself. Just for a moment, I became who the children
wanted me to be, a warm happy man.

I cannot explain why, but
the way these children perceived me made me want to rise to their
expectations.

The children held my hands
and brought me to the cafeteria, while others grabbed our luggage
and were bringing them upstairs; they had organized what I believed
to be a Feast.

We ate, drank, and
laughed. The kids had prepared a song to welcome us. Joy sang
along, she had heard it before.

Josh made his way to us, I
barely recognized him with all the weight he had lost. As opposed
to Joy, when she had first made her way home, he had seriously
toned up.

In the middle of all these
strangers, I was happy to see a familiar face.

“How are you, man?” he
said, sitting next to me with a full plate of food, “Nice to see
you. How’s Alfred?”

“He’s fine” I managed to
say“, but every time he hears your name, he barks twice. Is that
normal?”

Josh looked
away.

“Alfred’s a nice dog, very
loyal,” he said, pushing his food around on his plate. “Thanks for
taking care of him. Who’s got him now?” He asked.

“He’s actually still in
our apartment; the guys downstairs come to keep him company and to
feed him. They let him out a couple of times a day. He’s fine.
Don’t worry.”

“Good, thanks.” Josh
smiled. “Are you ready to get dirty?”

I must have looked
shocked, because he burst out laughing.

“Nothing too hard,” he
said, “promise.”

I nodded uncertain,
anxiety building up inside my chest. Considering I did not enjoy
novelty or unpredictability, it promised to be the time of my life.
I exhaled loudly, and closed my eyes.

Chapter 25

Time passed very quickly.
Josh and I spent the better part of our days trying to solidify the
overall structure of the Orphanage.

It was only by a miracle
that this place stayed up on its feet.

As I stood outside the
building, coming back from a street market where I had bought some
fruit and a few trinkets to bring home the following day, it hit
me. Watching the children coming in and out of the Orphanage, I
felt a deep sentiment of belonging, and of
accomplishment.

I took a notepad out of my
pocket, and jotted down everything I was thinking.

Through the second floor
window, Joy waved at me. I smiled back. She was beautiful, with her
hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a summer dress of
festive colors; a warm feeling overwhelmed my chest, I
smiled.

The craziest idea came
over me.

“Joy! Joy!” I
yelled.

“What?” she said leaning
out of the window.

“Marry me!” I said. I put
down the paper and pen, pushed my hair back. I had no idea what I
was doing. I only knew with certainty that she made me a better
man, and I wanted to spend the rest of our life
together.

“What?” she answered. I
laughed nervously, sweating. My hands were shaking and all I could
think of to make this more obvious, more significant, was to get on
my knees.

“Joy, will you marry me?”
I repeated with heart.

She laughed loudly. The
kids were screaming and clapping. Had I missed her
answer?

“Is that a Yes?” I
asked.

“Yes! Yes!” she said,
putting her hands over her mouth.

At this point, I wish
there had been a ladder to climb to her, and embrace the beautiful
woman that was now going to be forever mine.

I got up, and recovered
what I had left at my feet. When I looked up, the window was
empty.

Suddenly a hoard of people
came rushing out of the front door. Everyone was clapping,
extending hands, hugging me.

I looked among the faces
for Joy, my Joy.

There she was, standing
still: her eyes watery, hands still covering her mouth. She closed
her eyes. I walked over to her, and held Joy. I kissed the side of
her head, and whispered: “I love you, but I don’t have the ring
with me…”

She looked up at me. I
could not tell what she was thinking.

“This wasn’t very well
planned,” I explained. “I don’t know what overcame me…”

She took my head in both
her hands and kissed me softly.

“Who cares about rings!”
she whispered. “You should know me better than that by
now…”

I smiled.

Chapter 26

The plane ride home felt a
lot longer than it was, partly because Joy had stayed behind, and I
missed her already.

I twirled between my
fingers a photo of us that I usually kept as a bookmark, and
wondered what she was doing now. Joy had decided to alternate
between helping Josh on his various construction missions, as well
as being the teacher’s aide.

As I went up the stairs
that had become so familiar to me, I heard Alfred bark
twice.

Only me, sadly.

I petted the dog, told him
the latest news on Josh, what he was up to, and took a deep breath.
What I needed to do next would be, without a doubt, very
unpleasant. As a plaster, it needed to be executed at
once.

I held my head between my
hands, closed my eyes and focused. I tried to draw in Positive
Vibrations, visualize a little. Whom was I kidding?

I got up, walked extremely
slowly, and held my breath. I picked up the receiver, dialled the
phone.

“Hi Mom, it’s me. I have
news…”

I blurted the whole story
out at once. Thankfully, she did not say much. I had to
double-check that she had not suffered a concussion after her
fall.

“Are you still
there?”

She did not exactly fall,
but she had definitely sat enthusiastically. She handed the phone
to my father, who seemed rather happy with the news.

After dad assured me mom
was breathing again, I looked through my things to find my most
treasured possession.

It was now September. I
was going back to school, and Joy was turning 22 years old. She
would be back in time for her birthday.

I sat down at my desk,
facing my laptop, and stared. I wanted to write – write the most
moving, gut-wrenching, soul-consuming book.

I got up, and made myself
a cup of coffee. I sat some more, played with the keyboard, cleaned
it, cleaned the screen.

I went to the bathroom,
and petted the dog, which had followed me along. I looked through
the cupboards, and found a bottle of red.

The neighbours, with their
binoculars facing our kitchen, decided at that very moment to check
up on me. It was the polite thing to invite them in, and share a
glass or two. Before I knew it, a party had gathered on the
balcony, with very many bottles. As I had learned my lesson in the
past, I stuck to Red.

The neighbours asked about
Joy and Josh, how they were coping in Africa. I answered their
prodding as best as I could, while I showed them photos that I had
taken during my visit.

Many glasses and hours
later, I decided a Surprise Birthday party was in order, after
Joy’s return; I announced to everyone our engagement, and how we
could celebrate that as well.

We all cheered.

By the end of the evening
or early morning, the music was turned off, the candles had died
down, and I was sleeping cuddled up to Alfred on the
floor.

When I woke, I had a
headache again.

I sat at my computer, and
decided to pick up where I had left off yesterday. I stared at the
white page some more.

I decided to shower first,
and then make breakfast: dry toast would do. I made coffee, fed the
dog, and sat at the computer. I drank my cup, checked my email,
read the news, and went back to writing.

I listened to the quiet. I
looked outside the window.

I stretched.

My cup was empty, so I
decided to bring it back to the kitchen. I made a stop to the
bathroom on my way back to the office, and petted
Alfred.

I thought about what I
wanted to write, it had to be something meaningful, something
beautiful. I wanted to write a Grand Story with Meaningful, and
Beautiful Characters.

I looked out the window,
the red and orange leaves danced in the wind. Joy loved autumn. She
would lift her arms up and try to catch falling leaves when the
wind blew strongly. I remembered her laughing, and twirling around.
I wish she were here.

Somehow, she never really
was here. As I thought of my beloved, I came to realize that
whether we were together in the same room or across the world,
separated by oceans, she never really was with me.

She was the type of woman
that lived the moment intensely, felt things deeply, but at the
same time, managed to be so disconnected from other people, or
maybe just from me.