724. of Cait and Fall

"Tell me about the first time, the first date?" asked Kyra.

"What do you want to know?"

"I want to get lost in your experience like a reader in a book. I want you to take me places I only imagine. I want you to give me hope, to plant seeds in my barren soil, to water my dreams."

"You don't want much."

"I believe in high expectations. And I want every detail, no matter how small."

He smiled. "Is this for you or for me?"

"John, I can't help you and I would never try to manipulate your heart. Love doesn't work that way. It is, as Papa would say, a force beyond the machinations of man. To be plain, as cold as I may seem at times, I ache to know things I may never know, to think that they may be possible, to keep the small ember alive, if only for the many cold nights I spend alone. There is a warmth to memory, to hope, to dreams."

"Well, I suppose like all things, the first of anything retains a vividness out of proportion to the event, almost a timelessness as if hermetically sealed, where colors never fade and sounds remain as dulcet as they were, even if they never were in the first place. And you remember everything and everything is forever changed, touched, influenced."

"Such as?"

"Such as Fall."

"Explain."

"As in the season. Our first date was in the Fall, a glorious day of autumn come, the landscape bursting of summer passed, a kaleidoscope of orange and yellow and red. Leaves scampered to final resting places with the breeze of winter to come, almost giggling, the way school children giggle, the way I felt the first time we held hands and I felt her fingers curl into mine, slowly, firmly. Her hands were white and her nails a light shade of pink and I couldn't tell if the sparkle was in the polish or just in my mind for everything seemed brighter that night. She wore a baby blue sweater, soft as lamb's wool; and upon her shoulders, her golden hair came down like waves, my heart the shore and as the shore, I was helpless not to be taken, wave after wave." John sighed. "Ariel has her primrose hair. And her blue eyes."

"I know."

"Yeah."

"Please continue."

"Fall was, is, has never been the same. She is there, always with the first cool breeze of autumn, the first turning of leaf. I see her smile, the way she walked when she didn't know I was looking, the way she sat next to me the first time we sat together and I felt the warmth of her leg press into mine and her hand tighten around my fingers. I suppose if there is any comfort in space, we have no seasons and therefore no cause to remember what now--"

Kyra reached over and placed her hand on his. "You don't have to say anymore. I had no right to ask."

"Give me a moment. I want to remember. Besides, talking to one's self in the mirror gets old."

__________

"You know this is uncomfortable," said John.

"I didn't mean--"

"But you know why it is uncomfortable, right?"

"The memory of a loved one taken."

"Nope."

"Then what?"

John laughed. "The mixing of what should not be mixed."

"Oh."