— It’s a long story. You wouldn’t find it interesting.
You see, he was going to tell her that he loved her. Right there and then. He planned to say it after they had gotten off the train; when they got to the resort down the lake at Otapia, behind the fiery mountains where love was invented back in the then times.
Now he couldn’t wait. Forget the resort, forget the fiery mountains, forget everything. He was going to tell her right there and then that he loves her.
But he would wait just a bit. He’d already waited four years – what’s four more minutes? He would wait for the couple at the back to leave their seats again as they must have done about ten times in the last hour.
Who knew where they kept on going, anyway? Either way, they were a distraction and he would wait just a bit until they left again. Then he’d wake her up by taping her shoulders lightly. She already had her head rested on his shoulders, her flowing brown hair sliding across his chest.
He would tap her slightly on the shoulder, then he would look her in the eyes as she woke up; those azure eyes that let him right in without putting up a fight.
He would hold her hands like he loved to do, and just stare into those big, otherworldly eyes and he would let them take him away. He knew for a fact that he wouldn’t be able to resist right there and then.
Without wanting to, he’d be a slave to the moment and to her eyes and to the circumstances that had led him there on the train that lovely night, and he’d just blurt it out.
I love you, he’d say.
Of course she would already have a smile on her face from the moment he woke her up and held her hands and wouldn’t let go and stared into her eyes the way he hadn’t for so long.
What was the matter with that, anyway? Why wouldn’t you stare into my eyes like that anymore? She’d think. Like you used to?
She wouldn’t ask the question, though. She’d just let him stare and she’d stare back and smile at him in that way that she had of smiling at him without a care for anything in the world, welcoming him, saying “is this it?” Is this the moment?
The smile would turn to a grin and then she’d laugh and he’d say it and her laugh and smile would disappear and it would be unbelievable.
It would be what she had always dreamt it would be — time and consequence and the necessity of the moment, finally leading him to blurt it out.
He’d stay frozen to a spot clutching her hands and, gradually, watching her grin turn stone cold. Thunderous pangs of anxiety would strike his heart and threaten to stop it.
He’d say it again:
— I love you.
— Say it back. Please say it back.
She wouldn’t smile anymore. She’d continue to look him in his eyes.
— I love you too,
She’d say, finally.
— Good,
He’d say. — Very good.
I hope we both mean it next time, he’d think. Then she’d stand up and go to the bathroom. And that’s when she’d pass right beside me, giving me a welcoming look, letting me in without a fight.
I’d smile back at her, too. Letting her know that I understand. That I, too, am afraid. Then she’d disappear behind the train into the bathroom. There she’d freshen up, look even more beautiful than she did. Her eyes would pop; really pop. And she’d be ready; finally ready for what was about to happen.
He didn’t know that she knew, but she knew. His sister had told her last night that he was going to do it.
— He’ll say it tomorrow at the lake. You have to say it back. Then he’ll propose and you have to say yes.
She had thought long and hard about it, before finally deciding to board to train with him. She’d tell him she loved him too. She wouldn’t really mean it but it was alright. He didn’t really mean it as well. But time was running out for both of them.
She would return to her seat, passing beside me again. I’d been waiting for her. Had she been waiting to pass by me, too? If I’m lucky, she’d give me another smile. I wouldn’t smile back, though.
Then she’d go back to him. He’d still be smiling, trying to convince himself that he’d made the right decision. He already felt different now. He had seen her as she gave me that smile, and had seen her smile at me again on her way back. But it was alright. It was alright because it meant that he felt something.
That was the purpose of the trip — to feel something again. Anything.
So it was decided. He would propose at the resort.
As she returned to her seat, he’d start to talk to her about the last time he had been at Otapia with his friends, fishing in the lake. How neither of them had ever fished before, and how Bili fell into the river and almost drowned.
She’d fall asleep as he told his story. She always fell asleep as he told his story.
There was a time when being out on a train like this would have been exhilarating for them; they would have gotten lost in themselves. but now she gave strangers welcoming looks, got bored with his long stories; and longed for more.
There was no denying they didn’t love each other. They were both just playing parts, afraid of the future; afraid of being alone.
The train would drive on furiously. They were almost there. He’d start to dream of an accident. What if there was an accident now, he’d think, and I could get up and run and press the emergency brake?
But he’d also wonder what was at the end of the journey at Otapia? If it ended up being a safe landing, what’s on the other end? Peace? What does peace feel like? If it’s a chaotic landing, an accident, a disaster — what’s on the other side? How would he handle it?
All of this was about to happen, I was convinced, before I got interrupted by a lady beside me, just waking up. The lady stretched and yawned, and twisted beside me. She smelled lovely. She gave me a kiss on my chapped lips.
I kissed her back.
— Honey, what are you doing?
She asked me. — You’ve been murmuring to yourself since we got on the train.
I didn’t look at her. I kept looking at the couple ahead of us. They had been seated all night. But it was all about to happen, I was convinced. I couldn’t miss it.
— Oh it’s nothing.
I said.
— Stop it. Talk to me, honey.
— If you must know, I’m making up stories.
— Making up stories?
She said, — That sounds fun. About what?
— About that couple there.
I said, not pointing, but nodding towards them.
— Tell me about it.
She said, stretching her left hand towards my right temple, trying to pull my eyes towards hers. I could feel the coldness of her ring on my cheeks.
— Oh it’s a long story.
I said. — You wouldn’t find it interesting.
