5 x 5?

1.     Patricia and the schoolyard:

I first saw her at Our Lady of Perpetual Agony when we were both about begin grade one. Ms. Pappercock was a kind lady, and she looked upon me with some favour when she saw how well I could keep my handwriting within the lines of the notebooks she handed out. And that might have been the reason why she put Patricia next to me in the classroom after the first month passed. A lot of people thought this was odd, but I remembered that she organized the class according to the grades we received. Patricia and I (I mean, “me”) were both near the front of the class. Not quite Straight-A Sweeties – Ms. P.’s term, of course – but pretty close. But the year was long, and there was a lot we could do to get those front seats.

Through that long autumn and winter, we both worked very hard on our homework, volunteered whenever a question was posed (no one behind us seemed to care), cleaned up after class (recess was often just the two of us on our own), joined after-school clubs (me, checkers; her, chess), and showed up for other events held at school (still amazed at how many people would show up at our school for speeches, local elections, and city council meetings while city hall was being fumigated and rebuilt).

And then we made it.

One day, as we were cleaning the floors during an afternoon recess, Ms. Pappercock tiptoed into the room behind us and began to weep with laughter (I noticed her perfume, so it was not much of a surprise to see her there). Both Patricia and me had made it to the front row! Arturo and Xanakis had not done well on a math test, so we would be put in front starting on Monday.

 I don’t remember how quickly I ran to the schoolyard. I knew that the bell was about to ring, but I did not care. I was in ecstasy as I danced on an unused hopscotch game (some stared at me while the bell rang).

“You did it!”

I looked around for a moment, and saw that Patricia was there, smiling and laughing just like me. The sun in that spring light caught her hair and gave it a halo effect like something you would see in a movie. She was so beautiful.

So beautiful…

“Ah, we did.”

And then, she hugged me.

Maybe she lingered just a little too long with it. Maybe the people who started to “woo” and whistle in line were a challenge to me. And maybe I did not care.

“I…love you.”

Well, that was it. Patricia pushed me back and I fell on the asphalt as all the other students began to walk inside. No one came to help me up and I don’t remember much about that afternoon. At least I had made it to the front row. And Patricia knew.

2.     Sonya and the sandwich:

It was a long time before I met another girl whom I would trust. It was in middle school and I was still doing really well with my classes. Patricia’s family moved to the States to be closer to her father’s electric vehicle business. Ms. Pappercock’s ranking was a fond memory. I had a few friends now who loved to study math and science as much as I did, and I knew what I wanted to do when I went to a real school.

And then she became my next obstacle.

Sonya was a transfer student who came from a rival school that the other classmates worried about whenever there were basketball tournaments. Rumours that she was a spy were not hard to find. Her name, attitude and dress sense did not help. But I knew that she never cared about sports or whatever went on in the gym. She was a math major, and for the first time, I was jealous.

“Are you ready for the test?”

She stood in front of me in the cafeteria with her hat, coat and boots (strange to see her put all together like that). I was on my own, but I could feel all the eyes looking on me.

“A bit. I think I should review the last chapter a bit more before Friday.”

“Excellent!” She smiled, for what I was assuming was the first time on school property. “I will study with you.”

And that was it. I did not even get a date or a time, but it did not really matter. She knew my schedule very well, and I was able to walk with her to our local library after chess club.

There was not much talking, but I understood why my jealously was so strong. All of the geometry, algebra, equations and other work we covered were like breathing for her. I have to admit that I had a hard time keeping up with her, but it was worth the time. And I felt that it would work out well on Friday.

It did.

I had the best mark in the math class…besides Sonya (Ms. Orhanbul always handed out the papers according to grades; no more seating plans for us).

“Good work.”

She was sitting with me this time. That was in the cafeteria, and I noted that I was, once again, getting a lot of attention from the rest of the school (my fellow geeks knew enough to leave us alone).

“Thanks to you. I owe you…”

“No, that was nothing.”

And I noted that she was not eating anything heavier than a carton of milk.

“You are not hungry?”

“Not…well, I did not pack anything today.”

I took apart the liverwurst sandwich my mother made and slid it across the table.

“It isn’t gourmet, but…”

She looked at it for a moment, almost as if it was a science project she had to study and understand.

“You are giving me…your lunch?”

“It’s just one quarter of the whole. Eat.”

And she did. I noted that she did not seem to hold back as she gobbled it up (“ate” or “munched” just did not work).

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Now, you heard what I said, right? I was not dumb enough to say “I love you.” I did not really make an ass of myself in front of the school. I didn’t even push more food on her to eat (I’m sure she would have liked my mother’s prune cookies). But what do you think happened next?

Not a single thing.

Sonya never spoke to me after that. I saw her in my classes until graduation, but there was always a wall up when I tried to approach her. She still remained alone and quiet whenever I saw her, but it was clear that she did not want even me to talk to her. I was truly baffled. I even checked up on her home country’s cultural habits concerning food to see if I had done something that was a great faux pas (nothing I could find revealed such a problem). I left this as another life lesson and contemplated my next move.

3.     Lynda in the library:

College! I really thought that this was going to be what people kept discussing as “the best years of my life” (I should have known not to accept such clichés). I did not get into my first choice – Harvard is still a dream – so I had to settle for Lindham College. It had very few of the courses that I was interested in at the time, but as they say, you can often find yourself going along a different path once you enter this stage of life (another cliché). I stepped away from physics and got deeper into chemistry (another challenge) and biology (a nice ride). Not known for its medical program, I found that I had an advantage at the college. No one expected much from any of us, and we all flew. I was doing so well on the course I chose that I made the dean’s list all through my time there (my mother was overjoyed with the citations and medal). I had plenty of friends who were lucky enough to find each other in the same particular spot, and I only had trouble with microbiology and negotiating the walkways during those miserable winters (too much of a delay before the salt or sand got dropped, at least in my opinion). It was that golden cliché that I mentioned…

Until…

She was definitely not in the same program. No one who dressed and acted like Lynda was around the medical buildings or offices unless they were volunteering as patients for certain training sessions or they had an injury from a dance class in one of the humanities halls across the quad. And that is why I met her.

She was behind the curtain during one of the sessions where we had to head over to the hospital, listen to the patient complain about their symptoms, and then give our own diagnosis. It wasn’t really a medical internship yet, but I understood why Professor Mulsky did this. He was also aware of the advantages to be had by working at a school that was not on anyone’s radar. And, it also got us out of the stuffy seminar rooms that were either too hot or too cold based on the season.

It was not a busy day, and I was part of a very small group that day (the others had chosen to prep for another project or work in a different department). So, to be the first one up with my clipboard and questions made me feel special.

A big mistake.

“You will be diagnosing her on your own today. No one else showed up.”

That was Mulsky’s assistant, Ms. McGroom, and her perfume lingered in the room as she turned on her Pumas and left (wonder why I remember those shoes now). Lynda had heard it all and was propped up on the bed.

“Are you my doctor?”

I knew that it was a joke, but I could not really laugh in front of her. Her eyes looked right through my dumb self, and I was hypnotized by the long hair, her ease in her pose (a cat that was made to stretch itself out and relax).

“Yes, I guess…”

“Guessing won’t work with a patient.”

And she went right into it. Her diagnosis was easy to figure out once she let me right it all down, but there were things I noticed that were very unprofessional. That toothy smile with the slight gap in between her teeth (Wife of Bath reference); the way she just would not let up with that smile; the way that I kept smiling way past the time needed to be spent finishing up this session; the fact that she gave me her phone number…

Okay, okay, I’ll get to the library part (strange how some of these titles go so well with the subjects).

I had been seeing her off campus for two months by then. I knew that studied dance (modern to the point of being futuristic), loved to make many types of green tea in her room, had no roommate (convenient), drove home to her large family on alternate weekends (very convenient), and that she liked me…

“You are like a boy who doesn’t know he has already grown up.”

Yeah, she knew me.

So, the library…

I was up late in there, having access to my own cubicle and key card for studying.

And I still don’t know how she did it.

“Don’t guess now.”

That was what she said. “Don’t guess now.” I remember how warm it was that night, even after the weeks of rain, fog, and all the other strange sorts of things that can happen with the weather here. I remember my earphones were out and I was so into the guide to the lower intestine that night (very well-illustrated). And I remember warm hands around my shoulders, my quick turn and how her being completely naked was the biggest shock of my life.

And I think she forgot about the code.

We were on the floor when the security staff showed up and we were in the middle of… Well, the whole campus knew.

I was almost thrown out, but my grades and family’s name were taken into consideration. Lynda was not so lucky. Her family picked her up and she was quickly removed from campus in less than a week. I had to put up with the stares of my female classmates and the constant backslapping from the male ones (even Professor Mulsky told me he had had doubts about whether or not I even like “gels” – he couldn’t hide his accent).

That damn code.

She knew that the card I left was only for emergencies, and I told her that they patrolled the libraries after midnight.

What was she thinking?

4.     Kaitlyn at the altar:

Well, I think that title speaks for itself.

I graduated, found work in the pharmaceutical industry (surprisingly better pay for a new grad than I expected at Asikami Industries), and moved to a place pretty much its own island compared to my home. You would think these companies would make it easier for people to commute to their offices when they made their money, but no. It was like being James Bond the first time I got instructions on how to arrive there. No cars directly from the highway; only the shuttle bus from the city centre. It bothered me for a long time, but I got used to it.

And I got used to her.

Who knew? All this time, and I was about to find myself falling in love with a corporate-owned bus driver. Kaitlyn took over the route about four months into my job. Long-haired when she let it down; bright green eyes and the same ease with her own skin that I wish I could find in myself. In a year, I found out more about her when I discovered that they had their own garage and break area not too far from the car park. After this, I finally found the courage to approach her.

“May I sit here?”

She was alone (still thankful for this), finishing up what looked like a large Cobb salad.

“If you like…”

At least she didn’t tell me to get lost (so much hate directed at the industry sometimes). I found out that she was still in school, wanted to be an engineer, and did the bus driving for the experience and the money. She was young, maybe too young for me to have the thoughts I had, but I could not stay away. And we had a meal together every day for over five months after that.

And she proposed.

Oh, I know, and I said it then. “No one will ever believe me.” She had the mind of scientist and did not like to leave anything to chance and random accidents. I knew her habits, preferences, what she did on weekends, her family and the hard work she put in to get into school and live her life. She knew everything about me, even the Lynda affair and some other stories not too embarrassing. My family thought that after the library incident, I should be grateful for anyone showing an interest in me. And I could not say no.

“We will have an incredible life together!”

Yeah, she said that. That was a week before I was supposed to wait for her at the altar as she walked down the aisle in front of all of her friends and family (mostly hers; I drew a small crowd). And I wish that I could go back to that moment and change my decision.

They say, “You never know a good thing until it’s gone,” and Kaitlyn was a good thing in my life. But I could not bring her into my life with that history. I could not begin to explain what kinds of strange circumstances led me to abandon the job and get down here.

No one will really know. I even doubt that I will.

And that’s all…

By the way, what’s your name?