Story # 30 — On the Bus

The very first time that she became aware of him was on the city bus. She was on her way to a conference where she was going to do a presentation entitled “The Inequities of Healthcare Delivery for the Working Poor.” It was a Thursday somewhere around 7:00 am. She had caught the bus at her usual stop at 6:49 am. Too damned early for her liking. Usually she tried to get a seat near the front of the bus, but today all those seats were filled up by frail elders who looked like they were about to embark on an excursion; they all carried various kinds of shopping bags. As she was heading towards the back of the bus she heard two of the women say that they hoped all the good bread and pastries were not picked over by the time they arrived. Apparently it was some kind of  “Free Pastry and Bread Day” at the Salvation Army. It always amazed her how some seniors could get up and go so early in the day when it was sometimes such a struggle for her. She found an aisle seat towards the back of the bus; it was the last available one. Even though the bus was usually crowded at this time of day, today it seemed even more so. He was actually sitting on the seat opposite her, across the aisle; but she had not noticed him right away. She was perusing her notes on her forthcoming presentation. She finally noticed him when he got up a couple of stops later and gave his seat to a young very pregnant woman. He had put his hand on the grip bar near her seat. He had the most exquisite turquoise ring, and it matched the color of his eyes…perfectly. The splendor of the ring and the intoxication of his eyes actually took her breath away for a moment. She became totally disoriented and missed her stop. She sort of zoned out there for a few minutes; the rich sensuous color of turquoise engulfing her. She got off the bus at two stops after the one she was supposed to get off at, which did not cause her any significant inconvenience; she only had a few extra blocks to walk. She had left the house a bit early anyway and planned to get to the conference earlier than necessary so she could get her bearings before her presentation. All was OK. That night she dreamt of him. Well, she really dreamt of an African Lion, but the lion had His Eyes and was wearing His Ring on one of his front paws. Even though she hated getting up and having to leave the house in what she considered the wee hours of the morning, on the following day for some inexplicable reason that she could not fathom, she again caught the bus at 6:49 am. She had no place special that she had to be. He was not on the bus.

The next time she saw him was on the bus again a couple of weeks later. The time was precisely 10:22 am. She had looked at her watch. He was seated where he had been the first time she noticed him. There was a side seat available and she took it, just so she could look at him from another angle. She pulled out some old papers from her backpack and pretended to read them. His eyes and his ring were just as spectacular as they had been those two weeks previously. She wanted to swim in their color. Today, she noticed a few other things about him. He had a deep scar just under his left cheekbone. The scar did not detract, but only seemed to enhance his magnificent face. He had the kind of eyelashes that most women would die for. Why do men always luck out with those long, luscious thick eyelashes? An odd thought skipped across her mind. She wondered who it had been that had obviously polluted his family’s bloodline. It was not often that men of color had deep turquoise-blue eyes. She was not even sure what racial/ethnic group he belonged to; it didn’t matter. This time she stayed on the bus until he got off. He got off at the Community College. She got off the bus at the stop after his and headed back to town to her destination. She was a few minutes late for work. One of her co-workers asked her if she was sick; she seemed preoccupied and easily distracted. She felt so damned foolish and could not admit that her mind was in a whirlwind because of some unknown guy. She left work early. This was crazy. This was not like her. She was no ditsy teenager; she was a responsible adult who was not prone to swooning over scar-faced-men-with-hypnotic-eyes. She had only seen this man twice and she could not get him out of her mind. For all she knew he could be some weirdo sicko freak. She decided maybe she would talk to him, or at least make an effort to smile at him the next time she saw him.

She looked for him every time she got on her bus, but it was a few months before she saw him again. This time it was at 8:52 am. She chickened out and did not speak, but she sort of smiled a little. He was perusing some kind of pamphlet and did not seem to notice her or her smile. She got off the bus just a couple of stops after she had originally got on it. Oddly, there were tears in her eyes. She waited for the next bus, and let it pass her by. After 3 or 4 other buses passed her by, she turned around and walked the long way home. She called her job on her trek home from a phone booth that she had passed by. She told them she had gotten a “back attack” on the bus and had to go home to lie down. They sent their condolences. That night she was supposed to go meet up with a few friends for a late movie. She had been really looking forward to it. Her favorite movie of all time, Fellini’s “La Strada,” was playing for one show only as part of a Film Festival at the local art house. She had never seen this classic film on the Big Screen. She called one of her friends and left a message saying she had become ill. She found herself crying all day and into the evening. She was a basket case. How ridiculous could she be? At the very last moment, she decided to go to the theatre to see the film and meet up with her friends. Hell, she was crying anyway, why waste the tears on this unknown stranger when she could have a grand weep-a-thon over “La Strada”? Because it was late and the buses ran less often, she decided to break into her emergency cash fund and shell out the extra cash to take a taxicab. The first person she saw as she went into the dark theatre was him. He did not seem to notice her. She was so flustered by the surprising sight of him that she tripped and somehow smashed her hip into one of those drink holders attached to the seats. Her hip hurt like hell and she did not even try to find her friends. She found herself awkwardly plopping into the vacant aisle seat next to his. He seemed to be there alone. Her tears throughout the movie took on a whole new meaning. Damn it, she had not brought enough tissues and had to wipe her eyes and nose on her jacket sleeve. Thank goodness it was dark. He gently put his arm around her towards the end of the movie and handed her a few tissues. Undoubtedly he had seen this movie before. As the house lights came up, she found herself cocooned within his arms, weeping softly. He allowed her a few more minutes of crying time before he gingerly disengaged himself from her. She noticed that he had been crying too. She hoarsely whispered “thank you.” He smiled slightly, nodded his head and left. She just sat there in a state somewhere inbetween sadness and happiness. The movie usher came up to her and told her the theatre was closing and she had to leave. She had been sitting alone in the movie house for well over an hour. Naturally, since she got out of the theatre so late, she had to take another taxi home; she’d really have to cut corners for the rest of the month. As she climbed into bed that night, she could still feel his arms wrapped around her. The next day she had a huge bruise right above her left hipbone where she had unceremoniously banged into that damn cup holder. It was a lovely reminder of the evening before.

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. How big a fool could she be? She had no idea who this man was, but her feelings for him were unbelievably powerful. She had been in love before, a few times to be exact, and her feelings for those guys were nothing compared to how she was feeling for this man. In fact, if you combined all those feelings she had from all of her love/lust affairs through the years, all those feelings paled in comparison. At this point, she had not told anyone about him or what her feelings were for him. It just sounded so asinine. What would she say, “I’m madly in love with a guy I have never really met and know nothing about”? She had some vacation time accrued at work and decided to take a few days off. She decided she would spend the days riding on the city bus in hopes that she would see him again. Now she knew she had gone a tad bit bonkers. Yep, she was losing it and she didn’t even really care…much. She got out the larger of the two backpacks that she owned and got it ready for her mini-adventure. She packed a few magazines, her Curtis Mayfield tapes, her walkman, bottled water, and a few protein bars and got on the bus at 5:30 am. She rode that bus all day and into the evening. He was not on the bus the first day. She did the same thing for a second and third day with no luck. She did however develop a new respect for bus drivers and for her bladder. How could those people drive the bus all day, sip from their drinking cups, and constantly hold their urine? They were amazing. The fourth day was her lucky day. He got on the bus at 2:11 pm. There was a seat next to her, and this is where he sat down. She felt as though her heart was in her throat. He nodded at her and smiled slightly; she returned both the nod and the smile. Gathering up her courage, she decided to speak. She said, “I just want to say Thank You again for consoling me at the movies.” She stopped herself from saying anything else; she was afraid she would start babbling. He replied, “You’re welcome.” He looked as if he was going to say something else, but an elderly man got on the bus and he got up to give the older gentleman his seat. As he was getting up from his seat, his trousers rode up his right leg a bit. For some reason she glanced at his right leg and noticed that the leg was artificial. It was one of those mechanical-looking runners’ legs. She fervently hoped that he did not notice that she had noticed his leg. She did ask him if she could hold his backpack for him until he got off the bus. He said he was fine. The old man only sat through one stop before he got off the bus. He sat back down next to her. She could not stop herself before she blurted out, “You are one of the most considerate people I have ever met. Oh wait. We have not really met. My name is Benita, but everyone calls me Bennie. It is so rare to meet considerate people on the bus these days.” Now, she was babbling, and she even added, “I seem to be babbling, sorry.” He said, “Thank you, Bennie. My name is Henry.” For a few minutes they sat there in silence. Then it was his stop and he got off the bus. He looked back and smiled at her before he descended the bus stairs.

Ah Henry. Henry. Who was this one-legged, turquoise-blue-eyed, scar-faced man anyway, and why was she so attracted to him? It had been a brutally long 4 days for Bennie, what with her bad back and spending those long hours on the city bus and all. When she got home from her fourth-day bus ride, she decided to have a long soak in the tub. She did her usual ritual: lit a candle, lit some Patchouli incense, and added some Mr. Bubble to the bath. All she needed was some tunes. She chose a compilation tape that a friend had made for her of Billie Holiday. There was this one song with the line, “You intoxicate my soul with your eyes,” that she could not get out of her mind. That one line sort of captured the essence of how she felt about Henry. While she was soaking in the tub, she didn’t really fall asleep; she just sort of  “zoned out” and stared thinking of Henry. She wondered. She wondered if he was married or was in a relationship. Oh shit! She wondered if he might be gay. She wondered where he lived and what color his walls were painted. She wondered how and when he lost his leg and how he got the scar on his face. She wondered what he did for a living and why he took the bus at all different times of day. She wondered how he kissed. She wondered if he wondered at all about her. By the time that Bennie got out of the tub, the water had turned ice-cold and her skin had the consistency of a prune. Henry was driving her crazy and he didn’t even know it! She felt that she had to talk to someone about him. She decided to try to call her best friend, Susie. Susie was a writer of children’s books and worked at home. As she was dialing the number she chanted, “Susie please be home, please be home.” She was not home. Damn. Susie did not have an answering machine because she thought it was amoral, and also because she enjoyed the fact that not having a machine irked everyone she knew. A couple of hours later, Bennie was finally able to reach Susie. They talked for about 3 hours. It would be one helluva long distance phone bill. Susie, being her great quirky self, had some interesting advice for Bennie. First she thought that she should hire a private investigator to check Henry out. She even offered to pay; she made quite a bit of money these days. When Bennie said she thought that was a bit much, Susie replied, “Who the hell was it who sat on the bus for 4 days, just hoping that she would run into him? Maybe my next book should have a character in it named ‘Bennie-the-bus-riding-stalker’.” They both roared with laughter. Susie also suggested that Bennie hang out at the Community College to see if she could get any information on Henry. Since Bennie had scheduled herself for one more vacation day, spending it at the college seemed like a good idea. Susie said she would call Bennie the next evening at midnight her time. “Be Home” were her parting words to Bennie.

After a fitful night’s sleep Bennie prepared herself to spend the day at the Community College. She kept trying to assure herself that this day was not pure fantasy or indulgence; she had been meaning to check out classes at the college for awhile now, and she also had thought about teaching a class or two. This would be perfect. Henry was not on the bus that morning. The trip to the college proved fruitful even though Bennie did not see Henry there either. She found out that he was involved in an accessibility program for disabled college students. His office was at the college, but he traveled throughout the city and didn’t seem to have a set schedule. OK, now what? Bennie had no idea what her next step would be, or if there would even be a next step. She had never been the “aggressor” in any of her romantic involvements. Maybe she would just have to see where this thing was going naturally. What thing? There was no relationship between the two of them; there was no “thing.” Bennie decided that she was probably walking a thin line between raving lunatic and sane person. Damn. She had to do something to get Henry out of her head. Thoughts of him stayed in her head like the line of a song or an advertising jingle, sneaking in whenever they chose to. She decided to go shoe shopping. There was nothing more frustrating to Bennie than shopping for shoes. Her bad back caused problems with her feet and she never could find comfortable shoes. She spent hours trying on probably hundreds of shoes. By the time she got home, her back and feet were killing her, but at least she was able to get her mind off Henry for awhile. All she could think of was the burning pain. That night she dreamed of shoes, prosthetic legs, and her Grandma’s chocolate-upside-down-pudding-cake, which was her all-time favorite comfort food. Grandma had been dead many years now, and when she died so did the recipe for her cake.

When Bennie got back to work from her mini-vacation, she found herself very busy. The presentation that she had done weeks earlier had sparked interest and she found herself in high demand and inundated with requests to speak and to do volunteer work at various agencies. Although she believed in the concept of volunteerism, and had volunteered for many things in the past, her present job as “public relations representative & trouble-shooter ” for a Health Activist Advocacy Group left her little time to do volunteer work. Although her work was “part-time,” her schedule sometimes ran close to “full time,” even though she only received a part-time salary. She worked hard for her small paycheck, and had little energy for much else. Her back problem, which was the result of an unfortunate incident 6 years previously, seemed to be worsening despite her best efforts. There were days that even part-time work was too much. A half-dozen years ago, Bennie was walking across the grocery store parking lot with a small bag of groceries when she was knocked down by a couple of young thugs who were trying to make a get-away after robbing the laundromat that shared the same lot. She was pushed to the ground so violently that she fractured both her pelvis and her tailbone. Ever since that time, she has had chronic pain in her low back and sometimes down her legs. When her pain levels and energy permitted, Bennie tried to break into freelance writing, teaching, or anything else that she could do on her own terms to make a few extra dollars. She had a BS degree in Health Education and was quite proficient in the art of grant-writing and sometimes she even got paid a decent wage for her efforts. The bottom line was that these days she had very little time to think about Henry.

As it turned out, Bennie never saw Henry again on the bus. Every time she took her regular bus or any bus for that matter, she sort of glanced around to see if she could spot him; it was almost an unconscious thing. Although she may have become less fixated on him, she still hoped that she could see him from time to time. When she gave in to the luxury of thinking about him, she realized that her feelings for him were as strong as they ever had been. Maybe he moved away. Maybe he got a car. Maybe he was dead. Bennie became pretty good at suppressing her thoughts about Henry. Almost a year had passed before she saw him again. It was at a gardening store that specialized in Bonsai Trees. Bennie had received an amazing Miniature Japanese Red Maple Tree as a payment for a grant that she had written for a young woman who was studying the history of these trees in relation to the dynamics of the plant-person relationship. It was Henry who first spotted Bennie and approached her. He said hello and asked her how she was. He also said that he was sorry but he had forgotten her name. Bennie’s heart leapt into her throat again at the nearness of him. Shit, guess she still really felt something for him, and it was not all in her imagination or wishful thinking. Bennie told him her name and said something to the effect that the Grove Street Bus just didn’t seem the same without him. He laughed and said that he was traveling more with his job and that using his car was much easier and time-saving. For some reason he also felt compelled to say that he continued to recycle ― as if he felt guilty that he now drove his car to work and had to use more fossil fuel. There they were, casually talking in the gardening store and acting as if they actually knew and liked each other. It was a little bit weird. They walked through the shop together for a few minutes. Bennie told Henry that the Bonsai she had was for payment for a grant she had written and she was terrified that she would kill it. She was not too good with plants. Henry told Bennie that he was purchasing a tree as a wedding gift for one of his co-workers. He also gave her some tips for caring for her tree. Bennie had bought more than she had planned, and her backpack was heavier than she had wanted it to be. What the heck, she was used to the pain. The funny thing was that Henry saw Bennie struggling with her load and did not offer to help her. He quickly said goodbye, got in his car, and drove away. It took Bennie 3 buses to get home; she did not have any extra taxi money with her. When she got home, she popped a couple of pain pills that she had saved up for “special occasions” and named her Miniature Japanese Red Maple Tree “Henry.”

Henry was now on Bennie’s mind again almost constantly. She began to wonder about him some more. She wondered what his last name was. She wondered what his favorite food was. She wondered what kind of music he liked to listen to. She wondered what side of the bed he liked to sleep on. She wondered what brand of shaving cream he used. She wondered if he was allergic to anything. She wondered what if any political party he belonged to. She took great care of her Henry Tree as if it were the most precious thing she owned. Henry thrived.

This is how it was. Two or three times a year at most it seemed that Bennie and Henry would run into each other somewhere. Sometimes they chatted for a few minutes about this and that; sometimes they merely nodded to acknowledge each other’s presence. Once they actually shared a meal together. They ran into each other at a little Bento stand where they had both individually come to grab a late lunch. There was a small picnic table next to the stand, and they sat there and ate their lunch together. It was very pleasant. They discussed their mutual admiration for Billie Holiday, and Henry even knew the song with the lyrics, “You intoxicate my soul with your eyes.” He hummed it for her. It was so wonderful. Whenever Bennie saw Henry, he was always alone. This was how it went on for six years or so. During that time, Bennie’s back got much worse and she ended up needing back surgery. She had to give up her little job, and for lack of anything else to do, she began writing those little trashy-teen romance novels in hopes that she could make a bit of cash; they actually sold like hotcakes. She was like the princess of trashy-teen romance. She was doing so well in fact that she was even able to move out of her substandard apartment to a lovely condo-loft in the newly revised part of town where many of the up and coming creative folks gravitated. Naturally, her Henry Tree continued to thrive.

The whole Henry-Bennie thing eventually broke wide open when Susie came out for a long-overdue visit. Susie was doing a book tour for her latest book, “Fatsa’s Tears,” and had a scheduled stopover in Bennie’s city. They decided that it might be fun if they both cleared their schedules and took some time off. It had actually been a few years since they had spent any time together. They were just going to hang out in the city, or maybe hop a plane to Vegas for a long weekend. But as luck would have it, Susie’s publisher had a time-share co-op in Mexico and at the last minute the co-op became available, so Susie and Bennie jumped on the opportunity to go play in Mexico for a week. While sipping Sangria wine coolers at an open-air café in Mexico, Bennie spotted Henry. She almost fell out of her seat. She grabbed Susie’s arm and yelled excitedly, “That’s Henry! That’s Henry!” Susie almost fell out of her seat too. She looked as if a dark cloud had passed over her. She knew Henry all too well. Susie wanted to run, or hide under the table. But it was too late; Henry had spotted them. Bennie had not noticed Susie’s reaction. She was too excited and babbling about what were the odds that they would see Henry in Mexico of all places and about how happy she was that she could finally prove to Susie that Henry was not a figment of her wild imagination.

Of all the things that Susie and Bennie had shared about their lives, Susie had never told Bennie about Henry. It was like her guilty deep dark secret of all time. Actually, Susie knew Henry quite a few years before she and Bennie became friends, and back then he had two real legs and was known as Jesus. Now she remembered that he was always somewhat embarrassed by his first name. He probably decided to go by his middle name after they lost contact with each other. Susie and Jesus met shortly after college. Both of them had joined the Peace Corps and were stationed in Chile. Jesus had gotten a degree in Botany and Susie had a degree in Psychology. They used to laugh that the Peace Corps was probably the only place where they would ever use their college-earned skills. When Susie and Jesus met, it was love at first sight for the both of them. Their love affair was the first serious relationship that either of them had had. After their two-year stint in the Peace Corps they were not certain about what they would do. Susie was from New York and Jesus was from Southern California. Of course Susie wanted to go back to the Big Apple. Jesus was thinking of going back to California and maybe going to Graduate School. He didn’t have much of a direction. Susie begged and begged Jesus to move to New York and live with her. If he wanted to go to Grad School, he could do it in New York. If they were going to be poor, they could be poor together. They could live in some hippie-style loft in the Village, or maybe a tenement in Harlem. Nothing really mattered as long as they could be together. It did not take Susie long to convince Henry that the Big Apple was the place to be. New York turned out to be a great place for them for the next couple of years. They both got jobs working in a Teen Pregnancy Prevention Program and got accepted in a Graduate School to become Social Workers. They were about to start their first classes when fate disrupted their path. They were on their way home from an end-of-summer-rock-concert in Central Park when they were mugged. Jesus got the scar on his face shielding Susie from the attacker. During the time that Jesus was wrestling with the attacker he fell of the curb and into the street where he was run over by a taxicab. Susie was not injured. Jesus’ leg had been badly crushed and there was no way it could be repaired. They had to amputate his right leg right above the knee. Needless to say, the incident was traumatic for both of them.

Susie stuck by Jesus through his hospitalization, his amputation, and some of his rehabilitation. However, she could not get used to him without his leg. She said she still loved him, but her actions spoke differently. He repulsed her. The thought of having sex with someone who only had one leg just plain disgusted and nauseated her. The first time Jesus felt well enough and approached Susie to have sex, she actually vomited. She finally told him that she was leaving him because she could not stand to see him abusing his pain pills and becoming a drug addict. Copout. He was not abusing his pills or becoming addicted, he had stopped taking any medication long ago, even though he had some phantom limb pain on occasion. He knew all too well why she was leaving him. He suggested that they try counseling. Susie said she would, but sneaked out of their little apartment that night when he was fast asleep; she found the almost full bottle of Percocet that Jesus had used after his amputation. The instructions read, “One or two tablets every 4-6 hours as needed for pain..” She crushed up 4 of those pills and added them to the Hungarian Goulash that she had cooked him for dinner. Susie disappeared from Jesus’ life and never looked back. She always felt guilty about him, but was able to put him out of her mind for the most part. She left New York, moved to Philly and got on with her life. Now and then she would still think about Jesus and wonder what he was doing with his life. But she had no real desire to see him or talk to him again. When Bennie told Susie about the one-legged man that she had a thing for, Susie’s only thought was, “How could Bennie have a thing for a guy with one leg…I wonder if Jesus ever found anyone to be with after me.” Just as Susie had never told Bennie about Jesus, she also never told her that she thought it was repulsive for her to want to be with a one-legged man. Now, all these years later, here she was in Mexico of all places with her love-sick best friend sitting next to her excitedly babbling on. And the man she had so loved and brutally cast aside was quickly approaching them.

After Susie left him, Jesus moved back to Southern California and eventually got his graduate degree in rehabilitation counseling. The break-up had been very rough for him, but he threw himself into his graduate work and focused on little else. He decided to go by his middle name Henry, in case Susie ever thought to look him up. He never really got over her or the way she left him. She not only mangled his heart into pulp; she also stomped out most of his self-esteem. But that old axiom, “time heals all wounds,” is true and as time went on, the pain that Susie had caused him slowly dissipated. However, she had certainly left a mark on him. There were women who had been interested in him through the years, but he could never trust them or take any one of them seriously. He had tried having a few relationships, but they all ended poorly. Many women felt obligated to “take care of him”; they were too smothering and mothering. And then there were those who only wanted to date him because he was an amputee; they were just too weird. So there he was, either someone who women felt compelled to take care of, or an amputee sex object. When Henry took the job up North at the Community College years later, he began to re-build his self-esteem. He was still shy about getting into any type of intimate relationship…except there was this one woman who he kept running into and perhaps one day…. Her name was Bennie and she did not seem at all frightened or repulsed by him. Nor did she seem to have any great need to save him. Henry decided after this little vacation of his he would put forth the effort to try and get in touch with her. He was ready to try a close relationship again. He knew she still lived in town because he would run into her every few years, and he actually even read a couple of her little trashy-teen novels. Even though Bennie’s novels were nothing more than dribble, she had a few characters in them who were disabled, and she developed them well without being stereotypical or patronizing. Now, just when Henry had made the resolve to try to get into a real relationship again, who should he see all these years later, and in Mexico of all places, but the woman who had so brutally cast him aside sitting and talking with the one and only woman he may have a chance with. He was not sure if he should run or hide. But, as he kept looking at Bennie, sitting there with an exhilarating glow, he felt an overwhelming urge to approach them both.

Henry greeted Bennie first and said it was a pleasure running in to her. He also said that he had been thinking of her lately. He gave her a very gentle kiss on her cheek. Soft Fragrant Wind. Bennie’s knees seemed to turn to Jell-O. Thank God she was sitting down. All she could say was, “WOW.” Henry felt something as his lips touched her cheek. There was something so right with that feeling. A feeling that he had not felt for more years than he could count. He pulled a chair up to the café table and sat down next to her. He could tell by Susie’s expression that she had never spoken to Bennie about him. Bennie began to introduce Henry to Susie when Susie blurted out, “I know who he is, Bennie. I knew him long before you and I ever became friends.” To Henry, Susie said, “Hello Jesus, or you go by your middle name Henry now, don’t you? You look well, it’s been a long time.” Bennie looked stunned. There was an awkward silence, and it definitely was an awkward situation. What would Bennie do if she knew the truth of the relationship between Susie and Jesus/Henry? Would she take sides? And whose side would she take? She was in the middle. Bennie asked, “How do you two know each other?” Henry was hoping that Susie would say something. After all, she had apparently been Bennie’s friend for a number of years; she should be the one to explain the situation. She did not. She just sat there with an indecipherable look on her face. An oppressive silence loomed over the little café table. Henry finally suggested that he and Bennie take a walk. Bennie looked at Susie for some kind of response and she too could not decipher the expression on her face. After a couple of minutes Susie said, “I’ll go take that walk, see ya around.” She got up quickly and left the table, knocking over her chair as she departed. She said nothing else.

Henry and Bennie decided to stay at the café and Henry began telling Bennie the story of his and Susie’s relationship. They drank a couple of Mexican Beers. They sat there talking for what seemed like hours. Well, actually Henry did most of the talking and through it all Bennie listened intently. At one point during his monologue, she took hold of his hand, and there were tears in her eyes. They were not tears of pity. When Henry finished his story, there were tears in his eyes too. Bennie said to him, “I know so little of who you are but I feel as if I know you so well. How could anyone think you are less than who you are? In my eyes you are as perfect as you can be.” Henry replied, “Dear Bennie, the world does not always wear the rose-colored glasses that you seem to wear.” Bennie then recounted almost all the times that she noticed or ran into Henry. In almost all of those situations he had shown politeness, kindness, and caring to someone who was usually a stranger to them both. She thought that made him pretty perfect in her eyes. Henry was more than a bit stunned. He had no idea that he had left such an impression on her. At this point he apologized for not giving her a ride home years ago when they ran into each other at the Bonsai store. He admitted he had been attracted to her, but he had also been scared. Bennie gently kissed his cheek and forgave him. What was there actually to forgive? They decided to take a walk. As they were walking, Bennie asked Henry if he had forgiven Susie, and how he felt about her now. Henry had forgiven Susie many years ago. He actually felt sorry for her. He knew her quite well and thought that she was probably carrying around a lot of guilt. Did he still love her? No. That love died long ago. Both Bennie and Henry wondered how Susie was feeling.

Susie was a royal mess. After she left Bennie and Henry she walked for awhile until she found herself outside a rather sleazy bar. She ordered a bottle of cheap Tequila and started drinking and thinking. Jesus. Henry. Whoever the bastard was. How could Bennie be attracted to him? Shit. Bennie wasn’t just attracted to him; she was stone cold in love with him. It wasn’t right. Bennie was her best friend and he was her best lover and all-time best true love. No wait, he was no longer her lover or her true love. She threw him away faster than she had disposed of her garbage. Susie was getting both drunk and confused. She had not ever loved anyone as much as Jesus/Henry. She was so pissed that he lost his leg. It may have messed up his life, but more importantly, it messed up their life together and it ruined her life. Motherfucker. Now, Bennie was trying to steal her man. Henry was probably in love with Bennie. She saw the way they looked at each other. She thought of Bennie and Henry making love together and she became severely nauseous. She was not sure if she was nauseous because of the Tequila, because she still had feelings for Jesus/Henry, or because of her thoughts about the making-love-with-an-amputee thing. She was in a rage. Susie was consumed by a jealousy that she did not know she had. Even if she had not been drinking, she probably would have had some of those same feelings. She had never really resolved her past feelings for Jesus/Henry. She had so much guilt. Had she not been drinking, she probably would not have been as impulsive as she now felt. She decided that she probably had to punish the both of them. But that would have to wait, there was a cute sailor-looking guy at the end of the bar giving her the eye. She had a lot of steam to vent.

Susie spent the night with the sailor. It may have been a wild sex-filled night, but she was too drunk to remember. It turned out that he lived on and owned a small sailboat and took tourists out for tours. She never got his name. It was all so perfect. She had money, cheap Tequila, No-name sailor, and a boat. The best possible formula to purge her mind of her unwanted thoughts. Bennie and Henry spent the night together. It was beyond glorious. It was beyond all the romantic cliches. This was the start of something that would be ever-lasting; it was a soulful experience for the both of them. At one point Bennie said to Henry, “You are so much better than any of the romantic characters in my trashy-teen books. My heart feels as if it has found its long-lost home.” Henry was almost speechless. It was almost unfathomable that this woman totally accepted him as he was, scar, stump and all. All he could say was, “Thank you, you are a blessing.” He held her very close and kissed the tip of her nose. His heart and soul smiled. They had spent the night at his hotel. First they had gone to Bennie and Susie’s hotel and left a note for Susie. She rang them up the next morning after she found her way back to her hotel room and said she really had to talk to them. She apologized for walking off yesterday and was now nursing one colossal hangover. She said she wanted to talk but still needed to get her head a bit more together. She suggested they meet at the pier for dinner. She knew of a boat where they could meet and have a picnic. Susie rented No-name sailor’s boat for the evening. The small sailboat would be perfect for a little intimate apology dinner. No-name even agreed to take them out sailing afterwards. They all agreed to meet at the pier at 7 pm. That gave Susie plenty of time to put a little picnic together and to shake out some of those nasty cobwebs in her head. Both Henry and Bennie felt positive about their up and coming meeting with Susie. They spent the day together in bed making love.

The picnic dinner went well; fruit, cheese, tortillas filled with meat and potatoes, a little wine. The moon was full and it was a clear night for sailing. Up until that time the talk aboard the small boat was light and easy. It was more than obvious that there was a very deep connection between Henry and Bennie. Susie was quite humble. They were a few miles from shore before the trouble started. The boat was sinking. Susie had excused herself from the group and said she was going to use the tiny bathroom on board. Instead, she used a small ax that she had brought with her to make a few deep holes in the vessel. No-name sailor tried to radio for help, but Susie had busted up his radio. Henry searched for life jackets, life preservers, a safety raft, or anything else that would keep them afloat. There was nothing. Susie had gotten rid of all the rescue items on the boat prior to their departure from the pier. She began yelling, “There is no way out. The two of you are going to die. You must be punished for your sins. You know what they are.” It was pretty clear that Susie had dived off the deep end into the pool of insanity. She was swinging the ax in one hand and guzzling a bottle of wine with the other hand. At some point it hit her that she had gotten rid of all the rescue items on board and that she had no way to save herself. There was chaos. She had not planned on dying. No-name sailor was yelling and swearing in Spanish. He had not planned to die either. Susie was frantically looking around for someway to save herself. She started chopping up parts of the boat thinking that she could make a small raft for herself. No-name sailor jumped Susie and tried to get the ax away from her; they began fighting. She cut him badly a few times and he managed to cut her a couple of times. The two of them would not give up their struggling and they both eventually fell overboard in a bloody mess. The sharks had a good meal that evening.

As all of this was taking place, Bennie and Henry remained calmly holding on to each other. It was almost surreal. Neither one of them wished to die, but if they had to, it was far better to die together. As they were saying, “I Love You” and resigning themselves to drowning together entwined in each other’s arms, a slim opportunity arose for their survival. Before Susie and No-name sailor plunged overboard they dropped the ax onto the boat. Henry succeeded in cutting the rope off the anchor and they somehow managed to climb and then bind themselves to the sailing mast. No small task for a man with an artificial limb and a woman with a bad back. Miraculously, a fishing boat found and rescued them before the sailboat totally sank. Susie was dead, No-name sailor was dead, the boat was dead. But, Bennie and Henry were very much alive. They decided this was the perfect time to do something different with their lives, which they would never take for granted anymore from this point on. When they arrived back in their home town, Henry quit his job, Bennie sold her condo and they moved in together in a nice place that they found in the desert; neither one of them wanted to see large bodies of water again for a long time. Together they wrote a screenplay based on their relationship and the circumstances in Mexico. They were actually able to sell the screenplay and it was a tremendous success; they won an Academy Award and made tons of money off of their movie. They wrote other screenplays that also received rave reviews. They also began a small business of cultivating Bonsai trees and selling them on the Internet. That venture too was successful.

On the eve of their 65^th wedding anniversary, Bennie and Henry did die together entwined in each other’s arms. They were very, very old at that time and had spent many blissful decades together before they entered into their eternal sleep.