The Re-encounter

He sat next to her enroute Spain. He was recently admitted for his undergraduate studies. She was travelling to visit an aunt. He greeted her and started up a conversation, something at which he was good at. She just took a first look at him when she replied to his greeting and that was all. Though she answered him in monosyllables, he wasn’t any bothered. After a while, he slept off. By the time he woke up, it was morning. The pilot announced the time of landing. It was only one hour left.

“Hello! Good morning.”

“Oh! Good morning.”

“How was the night sleep?”

“It was nice and good. At least I needed it to take mind off its unnecessary roaming.”

“Anything the matter?”

“No. Nothing at all.”

“Can we still get to see?”

“No! That can’t be possible. Am just on a visit. Just for three weeks. Then I'll be going back home.”

“Where’s your home? Is it where we took off from?”

Shaking her head she answered, “No. not at all.”

“Please, where’s your home?” he asked with a soft tone cautious not to get her offended.

“That won’t be possible to say. That I won’t tell. Am sorry.”

“No problem. But can I at least know your name?” By this time his voice had dropped lower.

“Am sorry. I don’t tell my name to strangers. Not to mention a perfect stranger.”

“Ok. I'll tell you mine. Am Reagan Wilde.”

She turned, staring at him for a while and said, “You’re such a nice guy. OK. Am Priscilla Norton”

“Ok! Thank you.”

“Oh! No. You don’t have to worry.”

That was the beginning of a spark in his heart. That was the outset of a surge of feelings in Reagan’s heart. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Several times he visualised himself and her in romantic moments at different tourist sites. She was going to be around for three weeks but she didn’t give him her address neither did she give him a number by which she can be reached. It was a tough one. He had had a crush before while he was in high school but this time around it was indeed different. It wasn’t a little crush. It stole his sleep for some nights. Those nights seemed prolonged. He was groggy those few days. He had dark eye circles. He searched for her and sent friend request to her on Facebook. She accepted. He then sent a message to her but she never replied. His heart sank. At night before he went to bed, he would go over her pictures. He would smile and a times mutter some words. What is happening to me? How long will I be tortured by this crush? I can’t keep up with this anymore. It’s driving me crazy. It’s taking all my energy. These were the thoughts that ran through his mind after a month.

It took some serious mind exercise and subjection for him to be able to get the heavy stifling weight off. He was indeed grateful to his friend and colleague, Stanley Cody, who introduced him to meditation classes. Since then he became a meditation enthusiast. It had also helped him to focus fully on his studies. His first year was very crucial. He needed to have good grades. It was his foundation. His bedrock. All he had to do later was to build on it. He couldn’t afford to let his parents down.

 In his third year, he joined his college basketball team. He had a nice time. It was actually a sport he loved so much. During one of his practice for an interschool competition, he missed one of his shots which was unusual of him. A guy had walked in with a lady. She looked so much like Priscilla. He managed to finish the practice. Although his team mates knew something was amiss. No sooner they ended, had he left to meet the lady. She was about to leave the hall when he approached her.

“Sorry please. Are you Priscilla? I mean Priscilla Norton?”

Turning back. She replied, “No, am not Priscilla. Am Audrey. Audrey Raymond.”

“Wow! You look like one Priscilla I met three years ago. We boarded the same flight. I was going to college. She was travelling to see an aunt.” All these he said to bring her down memory lane peradventure she was the one.

“Am so sorry. Am not the one.”

“Then why do you look so much like her? Are you her sister, niece, cousin, relative?”

By this time the lady was getting irritated. “No! I told you I don’t know her neither am I related to her in any way. Please if you can just let me...”

He cuts in. “No problem. Am sorry.”

He stood and watched her leave. She indeed wasn’t Priscilla. She didn’t walk with the gait Priscilla did. He was actually in a relationship but still longed for her. She still had a place somewhere deep within him. Though he had shielded that part of him. It seemed to come up once in a while. It seemed to awaken occasionally.

His final year was a tasking one. He had to strike a balance between his studies and basketball. He had some crucial competitions to engage in. He also had his final exams and project at hand. He couldn’t risk having an extra year. That would make his parents red with rage. They would totally fly off the handle.

 It didn’t take too long he was through with his studies. He was so excited. It was indeed a huge relief for him. No more trying painstakingly to strike a balance. Though he was focusing on his job, he was also contemplating on devoting more time to his favourite sport. Fred Augustus, a prolific writer and poet. He was also a good friend of Reagan. They met at college. He had a book launch and had invited Reagan. It was a huge and well planned event. There were many dignitaries in attendance. He wondered how Fred was able to pull people of timber and calibre to his book launch. Well, he thought, Fred had always known how to find his way around people. He was in fact good at that. He had grabbed a glass of wine when he saw someone that looked like Priscilla. This time he was very sure she was the one.

“Hello!” he greeted.

“Hi!” she responded.

“Am Reagan.”

“What a nice name. Laughing, she continued, “ I hope am not standing next to Ronald Reagan incarnate?”

“Definitely not. Reagan was the surname.”

Laughing she replied, “I was just been hilarious. Sorry, am Priscilla.”

“You mean Priscilla Norton?”

‘'Sure! Yes indeed. Have we met before?”

“Yes! We met on a plane eight years ago. We were heading for Spain. Can you remember?”

“No. Not really. Not all. Am sorry.”

“Yeah. No problem.”

As he turned aside. He wondered what had happened to her. Was she pretending not to know him? Was she involved in an accident and as a result had amnesia. But she looked whole. Or possibly she had a short memory. He was still going to give another shot at it.