Gracias a la vida

“Want some?”

“I am fine, thanks. Chocolate makes me airsick.”

“We are not flying anytime soon, believe me. 20min delay usually means two hours.”

“Do you often fly to London?”

“I used to. When I was doing my PhD there, my boyfriend used to lived here in Geneva - I traveled back and forth regularly. Never got there, or here, on time. Never.” 

Her shining burgundy nails pushed a chocolate ball into her mouth and her masculine jaws crunched it down. From the half-moon tattooed on her wrist, a scent of spicy pomegranate emanated and tickled Elleree's nose. She cleared two chestnut strands off her face with calm assertiveness, as if unveiling a contemporary painting at a reputable auction house. Elleree stared without a blink - she had no idea how old this woman was, but someday she'd look just like her.

“He was definitely not worth all that waiting time at the airport.” The woman laughed and hid her teeth with the back of her hand, displaying another wave of scent around - Elleree inhaled and watched her reach for another ball to chomp. “I’m Alicia, by the way. Ali for friends.” 

“Elleree, you can call me Elle.”

“Elle, hm, hm. French?”, she winked.

“No, British.” 

“Come on. Don't tell me you dropped your humour at check-in.” 

Elleree smiled – she knew that journey would be special. And this woman was a great start. She couldn't take her eyes off her. Hopefully, she would meet people as interesting as her in the coming months. Alicia’s tongue mopped her upper teeth slowly as she looked at the passengers around, oblivious to Elleree's attention. Some were reading, some checking their phones, some sipping coffee and some dazing through the large window - at the lavender clouds that sprinkled the rosy sky of that autumnal evening. The rest of the passengers were harassing the obviously clueless staff. Ali chuckled and ate another chocolate.

“What was your thesis about?”, Elleree asked screening her outfit

“Didn’t finish it. Got depressed eight months through it and left.” Ali crossed her legs and tapped her upper foot onto an invisible pedal. “Dumped the Swiss guy and enrolled in a fine arts program. Opened an art gallery near Whitechapel. Ever been?”

“No. I rarely go to London - I don't like it.”

Ali frowned. “Are you flying there for work?”

Elle shook her head and smiled internally - she had rehearsed this scene a hundred times over the past few weeks. In those rehearsals, her interlocutor had a blur figure. On that day, she had straight chestnut hair, deer mascaraed eyes and a sassy AllSaints dress. Elle rejoiced at the quality of her audience - from now on, she would only be surrounded with this type of people.

“No, I resigned two days ago. I was working for a pharma company in marketing.”

Ali's fluffy eyebrows raised.

“Sounds like a big step - congrats. Are you planning anything exciting or just benchmarking airports?”

Elle laughed. She now had the attention of that woman in leather jacket and designer boots. 

“Actually, that’s a long story.”

“Well, now is your moment – we have two hours.”

Elle wrapped herself into her scarf – although this was October, the AC was on. Or, maybe, that was her being apprehensive. She cleared her throat. 

“I don’t know how to describe this and you might think I’m crazy –“

“I like crazy. Crazy is good.”, Ali said with a smile that was supportive and no more witty.

“You know, I think we sometimes meet people with whom we feel a deep connection. I am not sure how to define it – it could be that you see yourself in them, or see part of someone or something you wish you were in them. You feel like you have known them forever or that you would complement each other at some level. That there is something deep inside of them, like a treasure, that has a piece of you inside and that, similarly, there is some answer inside of you for them."

"I know that feeling."

"Right? And you know, I think of life as a quest for the self where one has to find the path that will lead them towards their self. And, I am convinced allies will show up along the way and it’s up to us to recognise them and buddy up with them. They may walk part of the distance with you, they may redirect you, they may have an answer or a piece of information for you – that does not really matter. What matters is that you recognize them and that you do not miss your chance with them. And so, -“

“Is it a he or a she?” 

“A he. His name is Henry.”

Ali leaned her head on her folded elbow. “And so?”

“And so, I’ve met several of those people already and have always trusted my instinct in following them or making sure that we don’t part without having had a conversation. It has always brought wonders in my life and I would, by no means, really, by no means, be where I am today if it weren’t for those people I have met and trusted along the way. I have identified a pattern of them being usually females that I make eye contact with, usually at a conference or a place that provides for teaching. University, a class of whatever sorts. Something like that. Somehow, we start to talk, and things unfold after months. Usually, we stay in touch for a couple of years and drift away. Serenely. We know we will never be in touch again and that’s as if our paths had to continue and we would, if we were to stay in touch, only hinder the progression of each other. But with -”

“But with Henry, it’s different." Ali smiled. "How is he different?”

“He doesn’t fit into the pattern. In any way. And that makes it so intriguing. We met through a friend, so I wouldn't define it as a calling from the soul. It's more like an encounter, like a step in the life stairs that I have to climb. You know, if I were honest with myself, I'd say I am not even sure I can trust him. I don't think I've ever had."

"But..."

"But I felt he needed my support because he is from a broken family. Wealthy but somehow dysfunctional."

"Did he tell you? Did he open up about it?"

"Yes and no. I just noticed he creates an artificial distance with people. All the time, but not with me, maybe because he knows I'm observing from afar and that he can rely on me. But he does so, I suppose, to protect himself. Which is funny because he can seem friendly at first and keep that mask on throughout interactions. But if you look closer, you can see the cracks. Thin and delicate cracks." Elleree felt the tips of her fingers drawing the lines for the laces of a Venetian mask as if it were sewed into her skin. A quick chill ran down her spine - she wasn't aware this story was that intense and embodied in her. And she was sharing this in the empty terminal of the Geneva airport with this stylish woman she barely knew. Maybe it just did matter to her. It did. She gulped down saliva and her rubbed her right eye out of shyness, perhaps. But shyness was nothing compared to what she had to express, so she went on. "He creates this layering to distance himself from people. And that is something that he does willingly and consciously. I even thought for a while that it was something, he did to test how likely you are to stick around… potentially once you find out the truth about him?”

“What truth?"

“I am not sure yet, but I want to uncover – “

"I see. But do you really want to stick around someone who hides behind a fence? It's usually not a good sign."

"I see it as a mystery calling for exploration."

“Careful - mystery often means fast-track to disappointment.”

“Yes. But no. I mean. Yes and no. I just know I have to do it."

A slight frown weighed over Ali's eyebrows as she stared at Elle.

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

"Not at all. It's good you're trusting your gut - I like it. And I trust your judgement. But then, he isn't one of those people you mentioned, right? So -"

"I know there is something deep inside and I am committed to finding out what that is."

"I see."

"Because he needs me.”

“Bold of you.” Ali said with a mild smile. "But I get what you mean. It's nice to be in that situation although it hasn't happened to me in ages. And I find, on the other end, the other person doesn't always reciprocate. It's like they shut down, you know?'

“I know and I guess that's why I can't fully trust him. But I think we all go with what we can share at a given time and I want to see what's hiding beneath the surface. I'm not sure I need more."

“Are you moving to London for him?”

“No, we are flying to Chile together from London Heathrow. Our flight is in 5 hours, I hope I won't miss the connection.” Elle grabbed her backpack from the seat behind her and dragged it forward, showing it to Ali. “That’s all I'll have for the trip. And you know what? It feels good. I have always longed for such an adventure and I’m excited to go with him. He studied curating at Goldsmiths and has worked for the Latin American section at the Tate Modern. He has an art project that he wants to develop there with one of the artists who exhibited at the museum a couple of years ago. The project is quite advanced, and I’ll be helping with the marketing.  This is all I have ever dreamed of.”

A grey veil passed through Ali’s deer eyes. She tried to push the right corner of her mouth upwards to simulate a smile, but she couldn’t.

"So you're leaving your life for this trip." She paused, for a moment. And as if to herself, she went on. "But well, those adventures are what keeps us alive, what makes us memorable. And isn't that what we all want?" Ali's dark pupils softened. "How old are you again?”

“27. I’ll turn 28 in January. And you?”

“41.” Ali unfolded her legs and turned towards the panoramic window that overlooked the runway. She stared at the parked planes as if trying to guess what countries they were from. She looked back at Elle, without facing her. “As time passes, I realize that, no matter what risks you take, you’ll always feel like you could and should have taken more. That settling, even for a single day, committing to a job, to a city or whatever, is wasted opportunity, believe me. I wish I had done more of those jumps when I was younger."

“You still can. You can even join us. I’m sure we can find you something for a couple of months – you could find someone to cover for you in Whitechapel.” 

Ali looked at her and kept silent.

“I’ll think of it.”, she finally said. "Are you apprehensive?"

"A bit but I guess that's what happens every time you make that type of decisions. And, you know, we have known each other for four years now, I know we will always be around for each other. That we will learn along the way and that, in this, will be our most significant metamorphosis. So, although he does not fit that pattern I mentioned, I am positive he belongs to the group of people I trust to change my life and me theirs."

Ali nodded.

"You remind me of a song - Gracias a la vida by Violeta Parra." Ali reached for her phone and scrolled down a playlist. " She's from Chile, by the way. She was also a visual artist - I'm sure your friend would know about her. It's funny, she too did a lot for someone she loved. I think he was Swiss actually." She paused and looked up from her phone. "Maybe I should recontact my Swiss guy."

******

“What’s your seat number?”

“5B I think, let me check -”

“Mine is 23E. In case I don’t see you when we land, here is my card - maybe I can make you like London again.”, Ali said with a smile.

“Thank you, I’ll definitely visit. And I’ll also tell Henry about you - I'm sure you two would get along great.”

“You know, it's funny. When I saw you with your backpack and potato clothes, I would not have expected you to have such an inspiring story to tell.” Ali stared at her for a long moment. "Really nice meeting you."

******

Last call for passengers of British Airways, flight number 8755, destination Santiago de Chile

“Haskell. H-A-S-K-E-L-L. Could you please check one last time?”

“Henry Haskell, that’s right. I am afraid, Miss, there are no tickets under this name.”

“But it can’t be... Are you sure – “

“I am sorry, Miss. We have to close the gates now. Are you onboarding or not?”