Sunday, February 5, 2012

How To Be Cool While Trying Very Hard


After some deliberation I have decided to 'trunk' this story, that is file it away forever. I still like it, and had a fun time writing it. After the story I'll tell you why it won't be submitted anymore.


 
How To Be Cool While Trying Really Hard
by Bill Bibo Jr


Edwin spotted them the moment he stepped off the train. On the concrete platform just a few steps from where he stood was a pair of sunglasses. The frames were a deep blue, almost black, with a dark gray tint to the lenses that hid the wearer's eyes. She must have dropped them.
He bent down and retrieved them before someone hurrying by broke them. The station platform was very crowded at this time of day and he couldn't see very far into the crowd. If only he were taller. People pushed at him from all directions. He had no idea which way she had gone. Disappointed he slipped the sunglasses into the pocket of his sportcoat and moved toward the exit.

***

"Edwin, when was your last vacation?"
Edwin looked up from his laptop. His sister stood in front of him, her arms were crossed in a stern manner. In her eyes there was sadness and concern.
"I don't know. I guess I don't remember," he said.
"My point exactly," she said pulling out a chair from the table. She sat down beside him. "You need to get away. Leave work for a week or two. Go have some fun."
Opening her purse she took out a bulging manila envelope. She handed it to Edwin.
"What's this?" he asked, holding the envelope as if it might be filled with anthrax.
"Your vacation. It's all taken care of. In that envelope is everything you need, hotel reservations, itinerary, transportation, restaurants, things to see. You leave in two weeks. That will give you time to make adjustments to your schedule. The best part is that you're going by train. Do you remember how much you loved trains as a child? You told everyone that you were going to be an engineer when you got older. Oh, Edwin, don't look at me like that. It will be exciting. You'll have an adventure."

***

Edwin waited on the station platform watching the conductor and the steward so intently that they let him board early. He found the perfect seat in the middle of the car next to a window overlooking the station. Edwin set his bag on the seat next to him to discourage anyone from sitting there. There was nothing worse than trying to make pleasant conversation with a talkative neighbor.
The book his sister had given him was fiction, the latest spy thriller about an international conspiracy out to control the world. This trip was his vacation and she would allow no serious thinking on his part. He took the book out of his bag and set it in his lap. He'd give it a try, but only because she'd check on him later.
She had also provided him an assortment of snacks though there was too much chocolate. He took out a few anyway and arranged them in the seat pocket in front of him. Suitably prepared he leaned back and watched the other passengers hurry about the station.
He saw her approach from the opposite end of the station platform. Everyone saw her approach. The sea of people hustling about in every direction simply stopped to watch her pass. She was amazing. She was all legs and boots with long blond hair that flowed endlessly behind her from beneath a dark wide brimmed hat. Darker yet sunglasses hid what Edwin knew must be glorious eyes. If he had allowed himself the frivolous luxury of such dreams, she could have stepped directly out of one.
Edwin closed his eyes and concentrated hoping that the force of his will would make her come to his train, to sit in his car.
Cautiously he peaked out the window. For a terrible second or two he thought he had lost her, that she had walked on by and was now gone forever. But there she was talking to the conductor next to his car. The conductor nodded and pointed in Edwin's direction. She looked up following his gesture and Edwin ducked back into his seat. Had she seen him staring? What would he do if she did get on this car?
The doors to the car opened. When he dared to look up she was walking down the aisle toward him. Hypnotized he could not look away. She moved with such grace and confidence that he knew she was used to being the center of attention. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and she was here walking down the aisle toward him.
On an impulse he grabbed his bag from the seat beside him, pretended to look for something deep inside, and quickly put it on the floor at his feet. When she reached his row she paused for a moment and smiled at Edwin, but then continued on. She took possession of a seat a few rows behind him on the opposite side of the car.
Disappointed, though at the same time very much relieved, Edwin quietly retrieved his bag back and replaced it on the seat beside him. He opened his book. He read the same paragraph over three times. She had smiled at him and he couldn't forget it. He didn't want to forget it. She was so beautiful. Who was she? Maybe she was an actress or a model. For the first time he wished he had paid more attention to the movies and television his sister watched. She would know who this mysterious woman was.
Edwin sat up in his seat and tried to causally look back in her direction. She was paging through a magazine, the dark glasses still hiding her eyes. She flipped a page and then looked up. Seeing Edwin, she smiled.
Edwin collapsed back into his seat nearly dropping his book to the floor. There he goes again, staring at her like a lovestruck child. Why had he looked back? She must think him to be a terrible person.
But she had smiled. That's right, she had seen him and then had smiled. A second time. A horrible thought raced through Edwin's mind. What if she had smiled at someone else? What if it hadn't been directed at him, that he had only imagined it?
Edwin inched up a little taller in his seat to look to the front of the train car. Several rows in front of him was a family with two young children getting settled for the ride. A few rows beyond them sat an older woman knitting, probably making something for a grandchild. To the side of her was a young couple, students most likely. None of them could be the recipient of the smile. The trajectory wasn't right. It had to have been for him.
Pleased, he slouched down and looked back. The slit between the seats was narrow but just wide enough he could see her clearly. She was paging through her magazine, never pausing more than a few seconds on a page. The dark glasses remained. Why hadn't she removed them? It made her so mysterious.
He sat back in his seat and opened his book but the words wouldn't come into focus. Had she kept her glasses on so as not to be recognized? What if she was a spy? Or maybe an international jewel thief? Was she on the run from the authorities? Or perhaps beginning a vacation too? Do spies take vacations?
An image filled Edwin's mind, one of an isolated tropical beach, the two of them alone on blanket in the sand, sipping exotic drinks filled with fruit and paper umbrellas. Two servants stand a discreet distance away, ready to wait on their every whim. She leans forward and kisses him on the cheek. This is the best vacation she has ever had, she tells him it is all because she had found him on the train. A gust of wind blows her hat high into the air. Edwin leaps to his feet to run after it. When he returns she is gone. A single red rose marks her spot on the blanket.
Another image came to him and another and another. She was in all of them, laughing, smiling, telling him how lucky she was to have met him.
The hours passed and their destination arrived too quickly. As the train slowed he found himself wanting to do something crazy. He would wait until everyone else had left then he would go up to her, say something clever, and ask her name. Maybe even ask her to dinner.
The train stopped with a sudden jerk and Edwin felt a hand grasp his shoulder. He glanced up. It was her, his mysterious woman.
"Thank you," she said. "I would have fallen if you hadn't been here."
She moved toward the exit, away from him. Edwin's mind was in a panic. His plans were crumbling. He must say something now.
She looked back over her shoulder, hesitated for a moment as if she might say something more to him, but smiled and removed her sunglasses. Her eyes were a brilliant blue that removed any courage Edwin had found to say something. He sat and said nothing. She waved and stepped down to the station platform.
In a rush Edwin gathered up his things. He threw the book into his bag and tried to stand only to be thrown back roughly into his seat, his seat belt clutched tightly around his waist. He fumbled with the buckle losing valuable seconds, knowing with each one he was letting her get farther away.
Then the realization hit him. It was too late. He had his chance and he didn't act. He froze. She was gone. Now he may never see her again.
He sat and waited, waited until the grandmother had gathered her knitting, the students their backpacks, and the family their various traveling supplies and all had left the train car before he made a move to the door.
Edwin spotted them the moment he stepped off the train. On the concrete platform just a few steps from where he stood was a pair of sunglasses. The frames were a deep blue, almost black, with a dark gray tint to the lenses that hid the wearer's eyes. She must have dropped them.
He bent down and retrieved them before someone hurrying by broke them. The station platform was very crowded at this time of day and he couldn't see very far into the crowd. If only he were taller. People pushed at him from all directions. He had no idea which way she had gone. Disappointed he slipped the sunglasses into the pocket of his sportcoat and moved toward the exit.
An arm grabbed his and he turned around to look into the bluest eyes he had thought he'd never see again.
"You found them. My sunglasses. How wonderful," she said. Her voice, soft, gentle, silenced all the world around him. "How can I ever thank you?"
Somewhere deep inside of him a voice struggled to get out.
"Coffee?" Had he said it aloud?
"I'd love to," she said. "I know the perfect place just a short walk from here."
She put her arm in his and together they walked out of the train station.
There was a small cafe a few blocks from the station. Edwin didn't say a word as they walked fearing he would say something stupid and spoil the perfect mood.
His mysterious woman guided him to a table outside by the road in the shade of blue awning. Once seated and she had given the waiter their order, two coffees black, she removed her sunglasses and set them on the table between them.
"Why do you wear them?" Edwin asked nodding to the sunglasses. "Your eyes, they are so beautiful, they should not be hidden."
"That's very sweet," she said and laid her hand on his. "I hadn't realized you were so charming. I'll bet back home you drive all the ladies mad. I'll have to keep my guard up."
Edwin felt his face redden.
"Are you an actress?" he asked.
"Once, there was a time when I thought I might, but I took a different path." She looked out over the road. "Can you keep a secret?"
He nodded but when she didn't turn to face him he said, "Yes."
Still watching the road she said, "I wear them to not draw attention to myself."
Edwin nearly laughed. Everything this woman did, every move, every breath screamed "Look at me." If you saw her in the simplest market or an eloquent gala affair there was no way she could hide in the background. Edwin remembered watching her at the train station, how the people parted to let her pass by.
Her laughter was sudden and sweet. "We both know that is not true. No, I wear them because they complete the package. The added mystery, well, it's almost expected in my line of work." She turned to Edwin. "You promised to keep my secret no matter what happens next."
All he could do was nod once again.
"Very good. I will tell you. I'm a thief."
This couldn't be happening to him. Nothing happened to him. Yet here he was sitting at a romantic roadside cafe with a mysterious and beautiful woman who had just declared that she was a thief. Should he tell the waiter? Should he call for the police? Should he just sit and watch her? His sister will never believe this.
"You must think I'm terrible, confessing to you, a total stranger, that I rob people for a living."
"No," was all he could say.
She looked back out over the road. This time something caught her eye. Sliding her chair back she stood and said, "I'm sorry. I have to leave. Something's come up."
Edwin stood. She wrapped her arms around him, encircling him, and kissed him on the cheek. "My hero," she whispered in his ear.
Before he could say anything that might keep her there for a second longer, she ran off, and waved down a passing taxi. Here long legs folded into the back seat. With a final wave in his direction, she was gone.
The last remnants of her presence lingered at the table and Edwin felt for the first time empty and very much alone. She was gone and he would never see her again. He didn't even know her name.
He waved to waiter for their check. When it came on a small silver platter he reached back to his back pocket for his wallet. But his wallet was gone. He looked under the table. It wasn't there. Had he left it on the train? Had it fallen out somewhere as they walked to the cafe?
He was about to retrace his steps back to the train station when he saw on the table a pair of sunglasses. The frames were a deep blue, almost black, with a dark gray tint to the lenses that hid the wearer's eyes.
Edwin sat down. He reached for the sunglasses and put them on.

the end



 I wrote this story for a contest in a magazine called The First Line. They supply the first sentence and you create the story that follows. The editor responded to my story with compliments on my writing. He really enjoyed it and almost went with it BUT he felt it was too much like the movie The Tourist starring Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie. Funny thing is that at the time I wrote this story I had never heard of The Tourist. Now I have. Too bad, I like this story, but I can see a slim resemblance and think other editors might too. So it gets filed away.

No writing is wasted. Every time you do it, you better your craft.

I hope you enjoyed "How To Be Cool While Trying Very Hard." Please leave me a comment here.

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