How the West Was One
The day was bright and sunny, thought it should have been consumed with rain. He stood there, watching a small town priest make what should have been a glorious celebration of a woman's life a mockery through ignorance. This man, this priest, a gentlemen of the cross, grown complacent over time to the point where his eulogies, his last rights, were nothing more than a recount of one's life gathered from no more than 5 minutes of conversation.
As the light West Texas breeze blew through his hair, he stood there, in agony, in contempt for his inability to change the situation, bound by his devotion to the woman that had spent so much of his life loving him, watching out for him, providing for him. He glanced upon the patrons in attendance to see that only he seemed to possess the gift of tears, the gift of emotional expression. But what should he expect, the life of someone captured in the day-to-day life of West Texas rarely found the opportunity to express anything more than a grunt and a comment on the weather.
As the last few words were said by the priest and as the family stood receiving condolences and expressions of sorrow he wanted nothing more than to be elsewhere to be somewhere where he could say goodbye to his grandmother in a way conducive to him. However, today would not be that day and this missive wouldn't be fulfilled for some time.
The reception to follow was as anticipated, full of light hearted chatter and memories of a better time. The local Catholic church members designated to help support this function graciously slaved away in the kitchen so that a few light edibles would help to keep the minds off the melancholy truth which brought everyone together this day. He stood there, making small talk to friends and family in an effort to ease the hidden pain of his grandfather. However, despite his gracious intentions he wanted nothing more than to run away, to escape this multitude of molded grins and masked smiles.
His patience finally paid off as the ever lingering minute hand finally struck its last minute marking the time for his departure. A flight out of San Antonio awaited him and he was to be no stranger to the airport this day for there was hopefully a bar and a cold glass of something to assuage his discontent on what he had hoped would have been a more passionate and expressive goodbye.
He politely hugged and shook hands and made his way to the exit and jumped in his rental for the 40 minute drive to the San Antonio airport.
The return of the rental and the check in brought little drama much to his liking and as he made it past security he checked is ticket stub once again to verify his gate. As he checked the flight departure times he made note of the fact that he had time to grab a quick bite to eat and hopefully a beer or two before boarding his flight back to Houston.
He quietly walked down the terminal with a grim look upon his face as his thoughts were consumed with anger and contempt for what should have been a more mosaic representation of a beloved's life. Finally, as if a sign from above a terminal restaurant straight ahead.
He walked up and quietly grabbed an open table a few feet from the bar and ordered some dinner and a drink aimed at numbing the pain, though he knew it would do nothing more than dull his wits and temporarily postpone the anguish to come. He finished his dinner and his drink, checked his watch, and decided he had time for one more.
The waitress took his order without knowing why but instead just going about her daily life as always for every day brought a wealth of new faces to her tables and his was just another. Nothing special, just another handsome face in need of a smile and perhaps a shave.
While staring down into the tall glass the waitress brought him he noticed out of the corner of his eye a silhouette of a woman who had walked in through the same entrance he had only 20 minutes before. She headed for the bar and proceeded to order a drink and sit alone. He could only see her side profile from where he say but it was enough to sober him and grab his attention. An ounce of beauty in a world consumed by sad thoughts; something that could possible bring a smile to his face on this day of frowns. He glanced down at his watch only to see that his plane was due to board any minute so he took the last few sips from his glass, took care of his bill, and walked out of the restaurant toward his gate.
"Why shouldn't this be the way it happens," he thought to himself as he rounded the corner towards his gate. A little lighter in his steps though sharp as a tack in his mind he chalked up his timely misfortune as just another run in his week of bad luck. As he approached what should have been a terminal full of people on their feet in anticipation of their boarding call he found a terminal of people sitting in their seats going about life as normal. As if a prayer had been answered the flight was delayed, for what reason he never noticed for as soon as he noticed the delay he did an about face towards the restaurant with a mission. The silhouette had a name he was going to find it out.
He quickened his step for there were only two seats at the bar that would put him close to her and he was determined to take one of them... so he did. He slowed his pace as he walked through the front entrance and casually grabbed the stool next her; the one on the right as if there were no other seats available. He set his bag on the floor between the chairs as if to create some indifference and some space for even in this mission of passion some caution was necessary.
He began by ordering a drink as if to create the need to be at the bar and as such began listening to her light hearted banter as she talked with the bartender and a fellow patron a few seats down. Then, as if to complete the miracle of empty seats and delayed flights the moment to enter her life was thrown down upon him as if God had dressed it up and delivered it upon a platter. And so, a drink or two of liquid courage and he made his presence known with one sentence of quick wit. That was all it took. Her attention was his, as if he were the magnet and she the metal.
Their eyes locked, their bodies turned toward each other as if the inventor of the swivel bar stool had intended it for this purpose alone, and the chemistry began. Words were spoken at first but none were heard. Their eyes were speaking paragraphs and their bodies essays.
Time, a few drinks, and some light hearted conversation revealed that they were both waiting on the same delayed flight to arrive and as such another piece of the puzzle miraculously fell into place. However, his first class seat was no where near hers, which was at the very back of the plane, a seat that might have well have been on a completely differently fight.
As they stood in the lobby waiting to board he asked her to let him know should the seat that is next to her be open so that he might come back there and join her for he was glad to give up his first class treatment to be next to her, to feel more of the warmth and passion she conveyed.
to come... the plane ride home, the island in the Caribbean, the flowing curtains on the evening breeze...
As the light West Texas breeze blew through his hair, he stood there, in agony, in contempt for his inability to change the situation, bound by his devotion to the woman that had spent so much of his life loving him, watching out for him, providing for him. He glanced upon the patrons in attendance to see that only he seemed to possess the gift of tears, the gift of emotional expression. But what should he expect, the life of someone captured in the day-to-day life of West Texas rarely found the opportunity to express anything more than a grunt and a comment on the weather.
As the last few words were said by the priest and as the family stood receiving condolences and expressions of sorrow he wanted nothing more than to be elsewhere to be somewhere where he could say goodbye to his grandmother in a way conducive to him. However, today would not be that day and this missive wouldn't be fulfilled for some time.
The reception to follow was as anticipated, full of light hearted chatter and memories of a better time. The local Catholic church members designated to help support this function graciously slaved away in the kitchen so that a few light edibles would help to keep the minds off the melancholy truth which brought everyone together this day. He stood there, making small talk to friends and family in an effort to ease the hidden pain of his grandfather. However, despite his gracious intentions he wanted nothing more than to run away, to escape this multitude of molded grins and masked smiles.
His patience finally paid off as the ever lingering minute hand finally struck its last minute marking the time for his departure. A flight out of San Antonio awaited him and he was to be no stranger to the airport this day for there was hopefully a bar and a cold glass of something to assuage his discontent on what he had hoped would have been a more passionate and expressive goodbye.
He politely hugged and shook hands and made his way to the exit and jumped in his rental for the 40 minute drive to the San Antonio airport.
The return of the rental and the check in brought little drama much to his liking and as he made it past security he checked is ticket stub once again to verify his gate. As he checked the flight departure times he made note of the fact that he had time to grab a quick bite to eat and hopefully a beer or two before boarding his flight back to Houston.
He quietly walked down the terminal with a grim look upon his face as his thoughts were consumed with anger and contempt for what should have been a more mosaic representation of a beloved's life. Finally, as if a sign from above a terminal restaurant straight ahead.
He walked up and quietly grabbed an open table a few feet from the bar and ordered some dinner and a drink aimed at numbing the pain, though he knew it would do nothing more than dull his wits and temporarily postpone the anguish to come. He finished his dinner and his drink, checked his watch, and decided he had time for one more.
The waitress took his order without knowing why but instead just going about her daily life as always for every day brought a wealth of new faces to her tables and his was just another. Nothing special, just another handsome face in need of a smile and perhaps a shave.
While staring down into the tall glass the waitress brought him he noticed out of the corner of his eye a silhouette of a woman who had walked in through the same entrance he had only 20 minutes before. She headed for the bar and proceeded to order a drink and sit alone. He could only see her side profile from where he say but it was enough to sober him and grab his attention. An ounce of beauty in a world consumed by sad thoughts; something that could possible bring a smile to his face on this day of frowns. He glanced down at his watch only to see that his plane was due to board any minute so he took the last few sips from his glass, took care of his bill, and walked out of the restaurant toward his gate.
"Why shouldn't this be the way it happens," he thought to himself as he rounded the corner towards his gate. A little lighter in his steps though sharp as a tack in his mind he chalked up his timely misfortune as just another run in his week of bad luck. As he approached what should have been a terminal full of people on their feet in anticipation of their boarding call he found a terminal of people sitting in their seats going about life as normal. As if a prayer had been answered the flight was delayed, for what reason he never noticed for as soon as he noticed the delay he did an about face towards the restaurant with a mission. The silhouette had a name he was going to find it out.
He quickened his step for there were only two seats at the bar that would put him close to her and he was determined to take one of them... so he did. He slowed his pace as he walked through the front entrance and casually grabbed the stool next her; the one on the right as if there were no other seats available. He set his bag on the floor between the chairs as if to create some indifference and some space for even in this mission of passion some caution was necessary.
He began by ordering a drink as if to create the need to be at the bar and as such began listening to her light hearted banter as she talked with the bartender and a fellow patron a few seats down. Then, as if to complete the miracle of empty seats and delayed flights the moment to enter her life was thrown down upon him as if God had dressed it up and delivered it upon a platter. And so, a drink or two of liquid courage and he made his presence known with one sentence of quick wit. That was all it took. Her attention was his, as if he were the magnet and she the metal.
Their eyes locked, their bodies turned toward each other as if the inventor of the swivel bar stool had intended it for this purpose alone, and the chemistry began. Words were spoken at first but none were heard. Their eyes were speaking paragraphs and their bodies essays.
Time, a few drinks, and some light hearted conversation revealed that they were both waiting on the same delayed flight to arrive and as such another piece of the puzzle miraculously fell into place. However, his first class seat was no where near hers, which was at the very back of the plane, a seat that might have well have been on a completely differently fight.
As they stood in the lobby waiting to board he asked her to let him know should the seat that is next to her be open so that he might come back there and join her for he was glad to give up his first class treatment to be next to her, to feel more of the warmth and passion she conveyed.
to come... the plane ride home, the island in the Caribbean, the flowing curtains on the evening breeze...
posted by java_helper at 8:57 PM
0 comments
