Nostalgia in the Rain

The downpour erupted so suddenly. It was as if one second Zeus was savouring his sweet ambrosia and the next the thoughts of his omnipotent mind came crashing in to remind him that the onus of Olympus and all of mankind lay upon him, causing a burst of heavy tears and lightning. I make way too many Greek mythology metaphors. Well, technically, were they even metaphors, really? Calling it that insinuates that there isn't a real possibility of the Greek Gods looking down upon us, creating and recreating our very world.

The coffee coloured cafe doors flung open as a crowd of people that were wet, irritated, and clearly glad to be under shelter piled in. You could see the look of annoyance on the baristas face across the counter, evidently trying to mask it under a glamorous “how can I help you” smile as some of the newcomers formed a damp line. The rain wasn't going to stop for a while, it seemed. The plush cream sofas were quickly filled up, both by people and their baggage, while others pulled up their empty chairs to offer. The cafe itself was quite small and already previously full due to its niche popularity, and therefore regular customers such as myself. Not the best place to hide during a zombie apocalypse I mentally remarked. Just then, my covert observations were loudly interrupted by the screeching of a chair beside me and what looked like a heavenly fresh bagel on a small plate.

“Thanks so much for asking if you could in fact share an already crowded table with me.” My comment came out more rude than intended, though I did make it a point of moving my empty plate to the side. 

“I bought you a bagel as a negotiation though” the boy who was now across me stared straight into my eyes as he said this, making me way too uncomfortable. I looked down at the bagel instead.

“Really?” That was actually thoughtful of him.

“No.” And there it is, I scoffed silently. “But I guess you can have it if you want” he shook his head full of curly hair out, small water drops landing on my face.

“No thanks” I replied, even though that bagel looked insanely delicious. 

“Ather?” I saw the stranger reading my plastic coffee cup from my peripherals. I didn't want to respond and drag this on any longer than I had to, but I needed to make a point.

“She spelt it wrong, actually. It's an A-e.” I knew I said I was a regular here, and it's true. They did recently hire the new annoyed barista though, a blonde haired cliche called Bethany who seemed to have a hearing deficiency every time I told her how to spell my name.

“Aether?” He mused with raised eyebrows.

“Mhm.” 

A silence descended upon us thereafter, and I felt myself loosen up, taking in the background sounds of the chit chatter and click clatter of the cafe milieu. I wasn't especially good at keeping up conversations with new people, especially not new new people that pitched up next to me in my usual spot in my usual cafe.

“My name’s Bob.” I felt myself tense up again as his soft voice pierced the silence. “And that's not even the worst part. You wanna know the worst part?”

I allow a slight nod.

“The worst, really terrible, awful part is that it's not even short for anything. Not Robert. Not Bobby. Not even Bobert. Just Bob. Literally just Bob.”

I think I actually cracked a smile. “Bobert?”

“Hey, anything’s better than Bob.” 

“You mean Bob, just Bob.”

“Bob, just Bob.” 

And with that, silence enthralled us again, but this time it felt different, more comfortable. Not only was the easygoing silence a good sign for me, but before I knew it, three hours had passed and we had been more than silent for half of it. You can't possibly keep this up, how on earth are you gonna give a satisfactory response was a thought that popped up every time he spoke, but I did. I did give a satisfactory response every time, and it seemed that my primitive inhibitions had almost all faded away. 

Maybe it was the fact that he actually endured my didactic talk on Greek mythology, or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe it was the fact that I endured his interest in the supernatural and humans learning how to harness their "inner magic". Either way, the conversation wasn't totally horrible. In fact, it was quite natural, which is why what he asked next didn't seem too out of the ordinary.

“Wanna go chill somewhere else. Like, somewhere outside?” he takes a sip of the cafe latte that we had ordered while talking.

“You mean like, outside outside?” I take it back, the guy definitely wasn't normal.

“Yes, I mean outside outside. Like, outside?” another nonchalant sip.

I have to laugh. “Dude, are you crazy? It's still pouring cats and dogs, even worse than it first started.”

“Okay and?” a third sip.

“And? And do you want to get pneumonia? Oh my god, do you want us both to get pneumonia?” I ask incredulously. He could not be serious right now.

“You know what. I haven't had a conversation this good in a while, a long while. So if you think that I'm gonna let it get away from me this easily, then you're wrong. You're incredibly wrong.” He didn't take a sip this time.

“Holy mother of Zeus, just ask for my number like a normal person and text me.”

“It won't be the same.” 

Another silence, tense like the first one. On the one hand, I knew that there was absolutely no way that I was going to just “hang out” in the torrential rain with a stranger, but on the other, I thought that maybe I'd want to, and maybe I might.

***

The latter half of that contemplation took precedent that afternoon, almost thirty years ago. I look over at my husband John, who's sitting next to me at the table, analysing the bible and muttering to himself. I hate to think it, but every time I look at John, it reminds me of that rainy day at the cafe. It reminds me of Bob, and what we could have been if he hadn't had to move away after a year. I might be wrong, but I honestly believe that Bob was like my twin flame or something. That day, walking in the rain, pouring out hearts out like the droplets from the clouds, conversing like we were old and grey and just catching up like classic friends. That day changed my life forever. In the rain, he taught me how to be myself, my true self, with no fear of judgement. I talked about Greek mythology and he talked about supernatural powers and opening up his third eye. We sounded crazy, and we probably were. That was the best year of my life, and now, after thirty years of not talking because he refused to use social media for whatever reason, I found him again. Or rather, we found each other again.

It wasn't as snazzy and endearing as the first time. It was actually in quite a somber setting. It was at one of my group therapy sessions. My childhood wasn't the prettiest, and emotional trauma from my abusive dad was one of the things John told me I needed to “sort out” before I could truly heal or whatever. So I attended them, every Wednesday for an hour, taking turns to talk about why we thought we had daddy issues. 

It was a normal Wednesday, another normal session, except it wasn't. It wasn't because when Shirley, our mentor, announced that we had a new member, I wasn't expecting that new member to have dark brown curls, deep brown eyes, a tiny mole on top of his right eyebrow, a dimple on his left cheek. I didn't expect it to be him.

And when the session was over and we finally had a chance to talk, he didn't even say hi. Not even a “hey, I know we haven't spoken in like thirty years and that's totally my fault but I have a very good reason for it.”

No.

Instead, we got outside and it started raining. Not even light from the get go, it was proper coming down on us, and he shook his head of curly hair and the water droplets wet my face and he smiled a huge wide smile and he said “Amalthea. This is weird. Weird, but nice” and I wanted to slap him but the rain made it hard to see and all of a sudden that afternoon in the cafe came back to me like it always did but this time much more vividly and I so badly wanted to turn back time to the year of 1990 and-

“Amalthea, I managed to open up my third eye. I finally managed to do it and I can read people's minds now. I want you to come with me, to really come with me, so I can also show you how to tap into your innate powers.”

I believe it instantly. I believed everything he said after we didn't get pneumonia and he told me never to mistrust him again. So yes, I believed him and thought "that's what he's been doing all this time." I should be mad, but it makes me smile instead.

 “Oh, and by the way, I think about that year a lot too. I guess this is like nostalgia in the rain, huh?” and he laughs and his dimple appears and all I want to do is hug him.

So I hug him and I laugh and I say “yeah, I guess it is” and we just keep saying each other's names, and though there's so much to say, all I want to say right now is his name. Bob, just Bob.