THE LAST GOODBYE!

Brad stood under the tin shed, which rattled like a drum as the raindrops beat against it. Time was running out, and there was no sign of Jose.

“I should have left earlier. Jose won’t be able to make it on time.” he gripped the notebook ever more so tightly.

There was no clock in the garage, but he could tell that he was already very late, and if he waits for even a few more seconds for Jose, he will miss the chance to see Sarah.

“What if Jose comes here just the moment after I leave.”

With every passing second, his heartbeat grew, rhyming with the pitter-patter of the tin shed.

“After ten,” he argued with himself, else I will leave.

One, two, three…

“Damn it!” he tucked the notebook inside his shirt, ran into the rain. He couldn’t wait anymore.

Sarah was an uptight, rich girl. She read books, played piano, and petted her dog. Brad was a poor man’s son, he wrestled, wrote poems, and worked in Mr. Nelson’s garage after school. Even though they were classmates, they never talked. It was a game of who initiated the conversation first. Both wanted to win but could not bring themselves to utter a single word.

It changed when Brad was grouped with Sarah to write an essay, a class project. He wrote the first hundred words, gave them to Sarah. She would then take the pages back home, made corrections added her work, and gave it back to Brad. The to and fro of the essay paper gave them the reason to talk. They began to sit during recess and corrected the essay together. It had become a daily routine even after the essay submission. They often found themselves talking and discussing things that amused both of them.

In the little time they shared together, Brad had known everything about Sarah.

About her father’s lucrative business, his political connections, his love for Cuban cigars.

About her mother’s love for knitting, hosting parties for her friends whom Sarah loved to watch gossip. About her piano teacher Miss. Bella. She had a voice so squeaky it hurt Sarah’s ears. In her squeaky voice, she kept blabbering about her dead father. It didn’t take him long to realize that Sarah hated her piano teacher. She was putting up with her because of the lack of good piano tutors in the town.

About her dog, Tipsy, who had strayed into her mansion. She had kept him hidden in her room, feeding him out of her food, taking him out for a walk around the garden after midnight when everyone was fast asleep. Until the day her mother found out about the presence of an unwanted guest. Her father let her keep him after the whole charade of weeping and rolling on the floor.

Sarah was not quite herself today. She looked sick. Tipsy had started to behave in a way she could not understand.

He did not play with her anymore. He had also given up eating food. He would just sit in the corner staring at her.

“He is going to die, Sarah,” Brad told her with genuine pity in his voice as he locked his eyes into her’s feeling sympathy for her.

She wondered if she was dying too.

She had also given up on eating. She would just retire herself to her room and stared at the wall the whole day, refused to talk to her parents, who had given up on her. She was being sent to Paris. To her grandparents to study in a better school and hopefully in a better university in the future.

I will marry her, Brad declared to Jose, Brad’s best friend, who was kind of disappointed at his friend’s idiocy. He put his arm around Brad, brought his mouth closer to his ear.

“Does she know that?” he asked.

“No.”

“Does she even know you are going crazy over her? What if she sees you just as a friend?” he asked, this time a bit frustrated.

“I think she does love me. I see it in her eyes.” He said, looking at the horizon, more to himself than to Jose.

As the bell rang, Brad stood in the hallway. He could not sleep last night. Jose’s words had made him uneasy. “If I don’t tell her now, she won’t ever know.” He argued with himself.

He had decided to let his heart out to her. She walked towards him. Her face paler than before, her eyes grounded to the earth. She stood in front of him. She was yet to reveal about her departure to him.

“Jose told me you wanted to talk to me about something?” she broke the silence.

“O! yes, I…?” he hesitated.

“Sarah, we gotta go.” her friend Cherry interrupted him.

“I am leaving, Brad. I won’t come back in fall.”

“Why not?” Brad looked at her face hoping she would lookup.

“I am leaving. For Paris.” She said, trying not to tear up.

Brad looked at her hands, so slim, so elegant. They looked cold. He wanted to take them into his hands and clasp them.

“When?” he uttered with great effort trying to sound indifferent.

“Sarah, let’s leave. Your driver is waiting outside.” Cherry clutched her by the elbow.

“Why don’t you go and wait outside. I will be there in a minute.” Sarah jerked off her hand free from Cherry’s clutch. Cherry scowled at Brad and flounced off.

“I will leave tonight.” she momentarily looked up but in a flick of a second brought her eyes back on the ground. Not before Brad noticed her eyes. They were darker than usual as if they were put under the lens.

Brad was now glaring in the distance as if he was in a dream. Is it a joke? Am I sleeping?

It has to be. Wake me up, somebody, please wake me up! He let out a silent scream.

“Before I leave, I wish I could read some of your poems,” Sarah whispered out her desire.

He jolted out of the nightmare.

“I don’t have them on me right now.” his voice cracked.

Sarah sensed despair in his voice.

“You are going to miss your piano lessons.” he joked, trying to keep the conversation on.

He could see a thin smile that faded away as soon as it emerged.

Brad realized she was hurt by his indifference, but he was hurt too.

“She could have told him earlier, but she didn’t. After all, I was merely a friend. Nothing more, nothing else.” he mollified his anguished self.

She reluctantly brought her eyes to his chest, held it there for a second, took it up to his lips, and slowly made her way into his eyes.

As soon as his eyes met her’s, her instinct was to bring them down.

But she didn’t. Something in her gave her the courage to hold Brad’s gaze.

Perhaps her last hope was her eyes to tell him how she felt for him. She wanted to stand up to him.

“After all, she was in a vulnerable position. Why does Brad act so indifferently? She is the one who is the victim here.” she soothed herself.

Sarah gathered all the courage in her, and with a deep breath, she gave him her last message.

His last chance, to come clean. To show some empathy to her.

“Today will be my last class at Miss. Bella, It will end at 6:00. I walk to my house from there. It’s not far.”

Sarah elongated her hand for the last time. He took it in his hand, shook it, letting her cold fingers feel his pain of unrequited love.

Brad came out of the school. He saw Jose leaning against the wall with a cigarette in his hand.

“What took you so long?” Jose enquired as the cloud of fumes escaped his mouth.

“I need your bicycle,” Brad said, taking the cigarette from him.

“Let’s walk to my house then,” Jose advised, feeling confused.

“I can’t. I have to be at the garage. Mr. Nelson has warned me if I don’t come on time, he won’t pay me anymore.”

“Can you bring your bicycle to the garage before five-thirty?”

“Fine, I will be there.” He walked away.

Mr. Nelson’s garage’s inner walls draped in dark soot made the room gloomy and musty. The anti-rust paint on the tin shed outside had started to peel off, giving the garage a depressing attire. It had started to rain, and the tin shed had started thumping, filling the garage with earsplitting noise.

“Why is Jose not here yet. Did he forget?.” he murmured while coming out of the garage.

A notebook with a leather cover that had all of his poems clutched firmly.

He was going to give them to Sarah. They belonged to her. After all, she was the inspiration for most of them.

“Jose lived on the other end of the town, and it would take him around a quarter of an hour to reach here. He must be on his way.”

Sarah timidly sat on the stool. She was sweaty on her palms. The clock on the wall had attracted all her attention.

“Beethoven, Sonata 3. Pick up from three.” Miss Bella squeaked.

“No, not Chopin. You are awfully out of focus today Sarah. I know that could happen, especially when you are young and moving around. Painful. I remember my father also sent me away to live with my cousins. He died in a war. I ….”

Sarah had lost the focus yet again, and she was back in her own mind staring at the wall clock, unaware of her surroundings. She thought about Tipsy. Her father had refused to take him to Paris.

“Why do you want to take it? It is going to die in a few days anyway.” He had yelled at her.

Their garden, how beautiful it looked in spring. Sarah was raised in this town but had never taken a step out of her mansion. Her father had never allowed her. She hated her house, it had a plethora of rooms but no people to live there. She saw it as a cage. Her only respite was her school.

Her only regret was not having a friendship with Brad for longer than she desired.

She liked that boy even though his presence intimidated her. He was a man of free will. Didn’t give a rat ass about other people’s opinion. Every girl in her class had a crush on him, and so did she. He was genuine, and that was what attracted her to him. Though she had recently started talking to him out of serendipity, she always regretted the day when he first came to introduce himself to her. In her defense, she was just a kid, and she felt extremely nervous around him. She wanted to be funny, just like him.

“Hello, my name is Brad,” he had said.

“Just Brad?” she had asked.

“No, my name is Brad Rowe.”

“Did you say, Bread Roll?” she had responded, immediately regretting her words. She could see he was hurt. He tried to smile but his friends burst out in laughter.

Since then, he did not approach her neither did she try to apologize. She could not bring herself to face him again. But deep in her heart, she knew he would forgive her if she approached him like he ultimately did.

“Bread Roll, though. What was I even thinking?”

She smirked at that memory.

“Don’t laugh Sarah, Mafia is not a joke. Mafia is dangerous. Do you understand?” Miss Bella said, amused at Sarah’s unconcerned behavior.

“Yes, Miss. Bella,” Sarah replied even though she didn’t know what Miss. Bella talked about?

She shifted her eyes to the window. It had started to rain.

“And what is Mafia? Boys often talked about them in school. She had also overheard her father talking about them on the telephone.” she thought.

“They are dangerous people and do dangerous things.” Brad had told her once with strange awe in his eyes for Mafia.

Had she confessed her love to him, perhaps she would not have to bear the torture of her broken heart. She had thought about it a lot but the thought of losing his friendship was unbearable to even toy with.

She had given him the message so implicitly that it could have gotten lost but that was her last hope. She was grasping at straws, letting her fate take control of her life.

Miss. Bella took Sarah’s hands, clasped her fingers, and put a kiss on her forehead.

“It’s time you leave Sarah.” Miss Bella said with tears just clinging to her eyes.

Sarah was outside her thoughts. The clock said 6:05.

“You know your father won’t like you to be late.” Miss. Bella said, forcing a smile on her lips.

Sarah stepped out of Miss. Bella’s house. The rain was relentlessly ruthless and seemed in no mood to stop. She opened up the umbrella and walked off.

“Bye, Sarah. I will remember you as long as I live.” Miss. Bella declared on top of her voice as Sarah walked back to her mansion.

After walking for a few minutes, she closed her umbrella, letting herself unarmed to the ruthless rain. Her tears mixed with rainwater and fell on the earth. She could see her mansion in the distance. White in color, it looked humongous from there. Before she took a step towards it, she felt an urge to look back. Her last straw, her last hope. She reluctantly started to turn, feeling the needles in her heart.

Her heart fluttered beneath her breasts as she saw a blurry figure running towards her. As the figure kept on coming closer to her, it got clearer that it was Brad.

He stood just inches away from her. He was panting, and his heartbeat was so loud that it reverberated in the vacuum between them. The time had stopped, and the rain had dimmed its silence. The silence was so sacred that it would have been a sin to poison it with uttering a single word. Brad took out the notebook from underneath his shirt and elongated his arm towards her. She took the notebook in her hands and embraced it, trying to save it from rain. No questions were asked, no confessions were made.

Brad took a step back and ran back from where he had come while Sarah rushed to her mansion as a serene sense of ecstasy took over her as if she had had a dream come true.