Blinding Hope

Sensitive content: Alcohol and drug use, an allusion to sex, violence, and murder.

Loneliness is the worst type of guerilla warfare, where it cyclically hits you at your lowest, leaves you, and comes back, until you can’t take it anymore. Sure, I’ve had a few one-night stands over the past twenty-four years, but the army isn’t forgiving in love. You never stay in one place long enough to develop any sort of relationship. Especially being in military intelligence, when you’re always in isolated or classified locations. Since I had my discharge papers, I could sit here in good Ol’ Miami Beach and enjoy the breeze with a nice Mojito in hand. I didn’t plan on finding a date anytime soon.

Thinking of the past was a tiger trap I didn’t want to fall into. I was sitting here at this cozy bar shaded by a palapa next to the boardwalk, and I planned to enjoy all my present moments. As I looked at the joggers and tourists going by, I could see how relaxed and carefree they were. Life lessons I could surely learn from.

Observing the ebb and flow of the ocean, I noticed a woman walking out of the salty water, but it wasn’t her beauty that caught my eye but her similarity to someone I once knew. She was either the doppelganger of my last girlfriend or herself. The only one I ever, truly, had any feelings for. Yes, she had some gray in her mostly auburn hair and perhaps not so youthful skin. Of course, my last girlfriend was now my age of 45. We last saw each other in 2001, when I dropped out of university to join the army. It was right after the September 11 tragedy. I wondered if chance was really playing on my side now.

I was beside myself with excitement. But how could I dare walk up to her, and she might even be married as well. I was taught to suppress any kind of emotion. And I knew better than to believe in any fairy tale ending—that after a successful army career, I would find the woman of my dreams and live happily ever after. These passing thoughts were definitely getting ahead of myself, and the only way to calm down was to go and introduce myself.

She was with a much younger and more energetic friend walking along the beach, talking and laughing. I set my mojito on the table and scanned myself up and down to see if my shorts and T-shirt were decent. I walked casually over and smiled at her. We looked at each other, and I realized that she definitely was the mirror image of my last love but not in her eyes. Her eyes were that of a stranger, so I said, “Hi, I’m Frank, beautiful day, isn’t it?”

The doppelganger smiled, “Yes, it is.” I realized she had an accent.

“Mind if I buy you guys some drinks for a chat?”

They whispered something in each other's ear, and the doppelganger giggled a bit.

“My name is Sonya, and my friend here is Cathy. Let’s go for your drink.”

We went to the same bar I was sitting at before but to a bigger table. It was all out in the open air with a pleasant view of the beach. The brightly-colored table cloth had pictures of palm trees, and the little umbrellas in our drinks each had a bright color. Sonya’s was red, Cathy’s was yellow, and mine was green. A mix of desire, a caution to youthful energy, and my inexperience at dating seemed to be one that could lead to failure, which I desperately refused to imagine. Hope was getting the better of me.

“I’m originally from North Carolina and been retired military for a week. I decided to enjoy the beach for a week or two, so I could figure my life out. Say, where are y’all from?”

Sonya replied, “I’m from Slovakia but I’ve lived in the States for ten years now. Cathy is my good friend. We met in yoga class.”

“Sonya is naturally flexible. Everyone in yoga class thinks she comes from a long line of contortionists or something,” laughed Cathy.

“What branch of the military were you in?” asked Sonya.

“I was in the army. Served in military intelligence after getting a degree in linguistics. I originally dropped out of college before joining, but I wanted to make a name for myself. Strange though. You do great things for your country, and they all end up classified. What do you do?”

“I am a Russian spy working to undermine the American government. I make their intelligence officers fall head over heels for me and then crush their spirit. Since you are retired, I have no use for you!” Sonya had a huge grin.

Cathy picked up from there, “And as her assistant, I must also bid you goodbye.”

They took sips from their drinks and gracefully left the table. My face was a bit red with embarrassment. I wondered what I was thinking trying to pick up a woman of her caliber. I felt awkward as a civilian, since I used to make sure I was always on assignment. There was little time for meaningless social interactions back then. And I wasn’t innocent when it came to one-night stands, the only chance I had at pleasure. But it seemed like karma was catching up with me.

I sat alone falling into that tiger trap as I thought of past regrets. I remembered being in the city of Belem for an assignment. And I had spent the night with a nice Brazilian lady who had seemed to get the wrong idea. It was my fault for meeting her family the previous day. I was leaving the hotel room, and she was raising a hissy fit about getting my number and seeing me again. She tried to hug me, and I pushed her off and slammed the door as I left. Now, I wonder how good my judgment had been.

I shook my head, took a sip from my drink, and looked around at the pleasant scenery. I was starting anew. So, I decided to walk to this club not too far off from the beach. Maybe I would look for someone to date after all.

It was the beginning of fall, so the weather was still nice and warm. As I shuffled through the walkway, not many people were around. It was early evening, and twilight was setting in. I found the club, and it wasn’t crowded yet. I looked for a stool and ordered a drink. Contemporary pop music was playing, and mostly 20 to 30 year-olds were gathered in groups, chatting.

Who I least expected to see walked in. Sonya, by herself, in a nice casual dress stepped into the club as if she was looking for someone. We at once locked eyes, and she smiled at me like the first time. My intuition went on red alert. I was trained to notice the slightest of details gone wrong, and this wasn’t right.

Sonya bashfully approached, “Hi, I’m really sorry about this afternoon. I had to get rid of Cathy. Will you forgive me, Frank?”

“In all honesty, my intuition is telling me to run the other way. But I’ll give you a shot.” I knew I was being stupid. But I was more desperate than stupid.

She began to take charge and chose the drinks for the both of us. I wasn’t able to keep up with the conversation and things started to become blurry for me. I saw doubles of everything, especially on our walk to a motel nearby. I tried telling her I had a hotel room, but she wouldn’t listen. I walked into the room and passed out on the bed.

I woke up with a headache and my whole body was sore. I suddenly realized my hands and feet were tied. I couldn’t remember how I got there until Sonya walked in, and then everything became clear, except the why.

Sonya spoke, “You, American devil! You know who I am? You don’t deserve to hear the name of my cousin. You assassinated him in Syria.”

I remembered my missions and assignments in Syria, and I knew who she was speaking about. Her appearance and accent gave it all away. She did have a stunning family resemblance. My karma had finally caught up to me.

Her hands, which were behind her back, came to the front with a 9-millimeter Glock, and aimed it straight at my face. I then heard the words I never thought I would fail or hear last.

She placed her index finger on the trigger, was ready to pull, and gave a sly grin.

“You should have listened to your intuition!”