Unquenched (6 page)

We drank.  Everyone drank.  The Indonesian beer made our heads
feel light and the laughter between us was natural.  We took turns sharing
stories of our vacation events.  Everyone shared something both comical and
amusing.  In one way or another we could all relate to the next one's
adventure.  It was a colorful land with beauty and depth, but far from home for
us all.  I hadn't expected the story Jordan shared and it made me feel awkward
and uncomfortable.  He embellished our experience of bargaining with prices and
how it had amounted to pennies.  It was, in fact, a very funny story, but it
was the part that he emphasized that was the problem.  He spoke mostly of the
gift, the one that we bought, but the gift was actually from me.  It was a very
expensive present that I was buying for him and had planned to give him for
Christmas.  The cost wasn't an issue or the bargaining itself, it was the
reason he told it that disturbed me.  It was the fact that he had made it so
clear to everyone that I was buying him something significant.  He had
blatantly and clearly publicized our relationship and I knew he had a need to
do it.  That story had cost me a lot.  I knew that it had cost us all.

My state of inertia could only last so long as it just wasn't like
me to be passive.  The beer had kicked in and had finally overridden my
unnatural inhibitions.  Tristan wasn't making it any easier for me either.  His
assessment of Jordan and I was hard to determine but he was flirtatious,
nonetheless.  He laughed with me and challenged me, as his energies were
directed toward me as well.  I couldn't ignore the opportunity to respond to
his wonderful playful banter.  Everything he said required my participation. 
My attention.  It was exciting and so real.  So I came alive and I joined him. 
I couldn't fight it anymore.  We were still in sync.  We had picked up right
where we had left off.  From several days ago, and probably from several lives
ago.  If there was such a thing.  The connection was just so deep.  It was
almost hard to believe.

It was only twelve midnight but the restaurant was closing.  Three
in the group were eager to sleep but the others still wanted to have fun.  My
heart said one thing and my head said another so I let Jordan decide for us
both.  We had made new friends, our vacation was ending, but he wanted to go
out, so I went.

We walked to a bar about ten blocks away that someone in the group
had known about.  There were six of us left as we broke into twos, for the
journey from one place to the next.  I walked with Tristan, as he made it
happen, and I saw Jordan up ahead with Courtney.  We talked about life, and
life in New York, and the fact that he would be there in two weeks.  It was
comfortable yet strange, yet strange all the same that we were so uninhibited
and comfortable.  As I glanced up ahead I saw Jordan all alone as he looked
back several times to check on me.  Courtney had left him to walk with her
friends.  Already I had something against her.  My pace quickened to save him,
from me and from her, or from just feeling alone and rejected.

The bar was quite trendy, young and diverse.  There were people
from all over the world.  As we waited for a table, Jordan stepped away, I
assumed to go to the men's room.  Tristan and I stood together again, but this
time, at a loss for words.  It was all so intricate.  Complicated.  Involved. 
What ever happened to boy meets girl?  This certainly was not it.  And still, I
had not heard him.  The words from his mind.  His thoughts.  To confirm my
suspicions and make certain they were real.  I needed to talk to him.  Hear
him.  And maybe one day, touch him.  But for now all we had were the looks that
we shared.

Jordan returned and despite the large crowd, we had been lucky and
were immediately seated.  It was a comfortable setting with couches and chairs,
not conventional and staid like some others.  It was more like a living room,
with coffee tables and candles, which made it quite cozy and warm.  The chairs
were arranged in a small circle fashion, everyone facing the middle.  To my
left was Courtney.  I would finally have the chance to speak to her.  Jordan
was to my right and Tristan to his.  Between Tristan and Courtney were our
other two friends and that completed the circle.  We ordered drinks and drank
some more but the mood had definitely changed.  Everyone seemed melancholy,
tired, or spent, and the conversation seemed more severe.

I spoke with Courtney, feeling indifferent, yet needed to converse
with her despite it.  She hadn't particularly impressed me, but then again,
that wasn't entirely true.  She was attractive and blond and had a cute little
face but still had a regular look.  She was hard to read.  She kept everything
at the surface and didn't let you in.  I had no idea who she was.  But I did
learn one thing.  Something very important.  She did not have any lingering
romantic feelings for Tristan.  From a few things she had said over the course
of the night it was clear to me who had ended their relationship.  She had
abused him in jest, in front of the group, but it was her body language that I
read.  I wondered if he had been badly hurt.  But knowing they were friends set
my mind at ease as he had said that he no longer cared.  Maybe she couldn't see
what I was feeling.  And even if she could, she didn't care.  A weight had been
lifted from me knowing I could just be me.  We spoke for a while sharing pieces
of our lives, but with her, there was no connection.

I felt Tristan's eyes upon me.  He had been talking to Jordan
while I was with Courtney.  They appeared to be enjoying each other and I
realized then, that Tristan was only making it harder on himself.  If I read
him right, he truly liked Jordan.  Tristan's feelings for me, had come with a
price, if he did not want to betray him.

The guy from South Africa had been talking about politics.  Then
about the Apartheid.  Then he moved on to religion.  It led to discussion about
the Christmas holidays and how we would all be celebrating.  I took a deep
breath as I cringed inside and Tristan noticed my sigh.  Questions were written
all over his face and I desperately wanted to answer them.  I felt angry at the
world.  Jordan had begun to explain our plans ignoring our conversation from
before.  I didn't fault him for doing it; I knew it had just been easier.  I
probably would have done the same.  But I was angry nonetheless.  Angry at me
for the situation we were in.  Angry for not having dealt with it earlier.  For
not having faced the truth.  I listened as he continued.  I couldn't just sit
there.  I was bursting at the seams.  I felt rebellious.  I needed to do
something radical.  Make everyone feel uncomfortable.  The way that I was
feeling.  I had been quiet all evening and I needed to make a statement. 
Needed to let them see something about me.  Something real.  I couldn't keep up
the masquerade.  I needed to take off the mask.  I waited for Jordan to take a
natural break and then I decided to cut in. 

"I don't celebrate Christmas." 

As I looked around the group, I realized I was probably the only
one that didn't.  In fact, I was sure.  But I didn't care.  At that moment, I
wanted to be different.  I wanted to be an outcast; it suited the way that I
felt.  It was as if I was punishing myself.  Maybe I was. 

I continued by saying, "I mean I don't celebrate it on my own
but am happy to share it with other people.  It is just not part of my
religion.  I'm Jewish."

I wanted to believe that I had silenced the room but I wasn't
quite sure what they were thinking.  It was almost as if I were testing them as
I began to talk about Hanukah. 

"I celebrate Hanukah, and this year it falls in the middle of
December."  I wasn't ready for the question that came to me next but I did
my best to contain myself. 

As if I had been speaking about some rare disease, the South
African guy asked, "What is Hanukah?"

Not only was I shocked, but I was infuriated.  I suddenly felt
like I was representing the entire Jewish population and everything I said
depended on it.  I felt detached and confused.  It was the twentieth century. 
They were educated people.  Even if they weren't, they were cultured, well-traveled. 
I mean, for G-d's sake, they had traveled to Indonesia, a remote part of the
world and they didn't know about Jews or their holidays?  It wasn't as if they
lived on Mars.  Maybe it was a conspiracy.  Maybe they were instigating and
trying to help me because they knew that I wanted to be mad.  I suddenly felt
that it was my responsibility to educate each and every one of them.  Tell them
about the Jews and who we all were.  It all seemed so ironic.  I wasn't even
religious.  I didn't even have a formal Jewish education.  But I couldn't just
sit there.  I needed to speak my mind.  And yet, I knew the reason that I
needed to do it.  The topic of conversation had just been a scapegoat.  It was
an outlet for me.  Well, it would have been.  Until Jordan came to the rescue.

He was always so sensitive.  From his perspective, I had needed
support.  Someone to help me through the explanation so I wouldn't have to feel
alone.  He impressed me.  Not only did he come to my aid but he knew the entire
history of Hanukah.  Jordan wasn't even Jewish.  I listened in awe as he
defined its meaning in painstaking detail, of course. 

I looked straight at Tristan and asked him out loud, "Have you
ever heard of this holiday?" 

I hoped that he, at least, had.  I wanted him to know.  But he
shook his head no and for the first time since I had laid eyes on him, I felt a
serious distance.  I looked back at Jordan and felt a warmth inside.  It was a
closeness and feeling of togetherness.  Teamwork.  I knew that I was lucky to
have him, I really did.  And for that reason alone, I grew even sadder,
thinking still, it wasn't enough.

After Jordan shared the particulars of Hanukah, he reiterated once
again, our plans to spend the holidays together.  He explained that we planned
to celebrate both holidays, Hanukah with my family and Christmas with his.  I
knew in his heart that he hadn't been trying to erase our discussion from
earlier.  Somehow I knew it was just a good ending to his story and some
further explanation to what was.  So I sat, and listened, and realized that it
was probably better that it had happened that way.

It was getting late.  We were all starting to get tired and Jordan
initiated our leaving.  He stood up from his chair and as he did, I felt
frozen.  I was glued to my seat.  My eyes caught Tristan's as he stared into
mine.  I realized at that moment that I might never see him again.  I still
didn't have his number, nor did he have mine.  I still didn't know his last
name and I knew that he didn't know mine.  Yet only moments ago, I had felt
distant from him.  Distant because I hadn't wanted us to be different.  Not
significantly different anyway.  Didn't want us to be from two different
worlds.  Or if we were, I at least wanted him to know about mine.  But we were,
and he didn't, and that was probably part of the attraction.  But I also knew
that we shared something deeper than the worlds from which we both came.  It
was beyond a language, religion or land.  When I looked at him, it was he that
I saw and did not have the need to look deeper.  And as he looked at me, I knew
that given the chance, I would never have the strength to deny him.

Slowly, I stood from my chair.  I wanted desperately to make the
next few minutes last.  I hoped that by moving slowly I could make time stand
still.  I was filled with anxiety and felt a sense of fear.  This time, I
couldn't accept the loss.  We had come so far and it had been such an effort to
find him.  It was more like a miracle that we had, and I wasn't going to leave
without knowing for sure that one day I'd see him again.

He remained still, for just a brief moment, and concern mounted
quickly within me.  Was it possible that he had contemplated letting me leave
without ensuring the future?  But then, he reached into his pocket, I diverted
my attention, and I pretended not to notice him at all.  I said my good-byes to
Courtney and the others, and extended a half-hearted invitation to them all.  I
gave her my number and suggested they call, if ever they should come to New
York.  I turned away and focused on Tristan.  The time had come.  Any future
time we could possibly share, rested on the upcoming moments together.  The
anticipation was unnerving.  Jordan had already waved everyone farewell and
motioned that he would meet me outside.  It had been hot in the bar and I knew
he was just eager to get some air.

Tristan's probing eyes connected with mine as I approached him to
say good-bye.  They penetrated me thoroughly with such intensity that I felt as
if we were physically entwined.  I could feel the presence of the others
nearby, but at that moment, it no longer mattered.  There was not even the
remote possibility of relinquishing him again.  It just wasn't an option.  I
wouldn't allow it to be.  And then he handed me a card.  It was purple and his
name was printed on it.  It read Tristan Engler, and below it was his home
address and telephone number in Germany.  It was his personal card and the
prominent color was an unequivocal representation of who he was.  It told me
something about him.  He was unique.  Distinct.  But more than that, he represented
individuality.  He was not intimidated and did not fear demonstrating his
convictions.  It came to him naturally.  That's who he was.

I placed his card in my wallet and began to search for mine.  I
wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.  Wasn't going to miss the
opportunity to let him know where I was.  I wanted to know in no indefinite
terms, that he could reach me too.  So I handed him my business card, as that
was all that I had, and scribbled my home number on it as well.  As I handed it
to him I felt as if I were forfeiting a part of me.  I knew that when I walked
out the door, I would feel that I was leaving a part of me in Bali.  In some
ways I knew I was.  I was leaving an experience, a passion and an unquenched
thirst that I wasn't truly confident would be sated.  I feared the unknown. 
Whatever the outcome, only one thing was certain.  And that was that nothing
was certain.  But now it was feasible that I could see him again and the
uncertainty that I would have to live with was temporary.  A sudden sense of
relief washed over me, as I realized then, that at least I would have the
choice.