She came to me in tears. She didn’t have to say anything; I knew what had happened. It wasn’t the first time. We sat quietly together, her and I and her tears, fading now into quiet hiccups. I got up and grabbed my keys; she rose and gave me a passing hug, her hands lingering about my waist and her drying face against my chest.
We walked out the door together, my arm around her shoulders guiding her. She put her head on my shoulder and we walked out into the world together.
—
The Cathedral was beautiful at sunset. Its musty, molding stone walls crumbled, set on fire by the dying journey of the celestial object that warred with the beliefs inside the impenetrable fortress. The pilgrims cast long shadows as they trickled inside the giant doors.
It was dark inside, and felt old and mystical. It was filled to the brim with faithfuls, skeptics, and tourists. We slid our way along a wall; she knelt before an image of the Virgin Mary as I continued, drawn by the tempting glow of tiny candles.
Row upon row of them were lit; they added to the ambiance of deep sorrow created by mournful Latin chants and the dead scent of incense. Awed by the flickering lights, I scanned the rows until I found a lonely, unlit candle. I slipped a quarter into the slot designated — a small price to pay for such a wonder — and reverently allowed myself to light the candle, carefully replacing it on the row of others. It seemed to be just one more innocent life created, among many hundreds of others, to simply burn and burn until it had burnt itself out.
I smiled at the futility of the action and looked up, only to find her eyes smiling back at me, her face aglow from the soft light of the flames. “Beautiful,” she mouthed, as a tear fell down her cheek and glittered in the light. It wasn’t the first time she had said those words, and I hoped it wouldn’t be the last.
My arm around her guided her through the slow decay of the building, the crowds, the hill, and the city, all a-tumbling away around us.
—
The crowds on the Pier were wonderful. People cheered and made merry, their gaunt facts shadowed harshly by the flashing lights of the merry-go-round. Kids ran underfoot, giant stuffed animals in their arms. The air was filled with the scent of fried dough and hot dogs. They were all oblivious to the world; for just this night, they could all pretend like the Pier was their world, and there were no jobs or houses or family to have to go home to.
Somewhere, a distant trumpet played the haunting sound of the National Anthem, perfect in all its legato despair and simultaneous hope. She smiled and whispered, “Beautiful.” It wasn’t the first time she had voiced her delight at the melody that meant some kind of freedom for her; the smile in her eyes was uplifting as I put my arm around her shoulder.
—
On a cliff overlooking the city, the lights stretched on and on before us, only to end abruptly at the deep darkness of the sea.
“Beautiful,” she whispered in my ear, seated behind me on the tiny motorcycle we shared.
I looked at her, taking in her deep eyes watching the shimmering of the world below. “Always,” I whispered back. Taking her hand in mine, I continued, “The world is huge; look at it — it goes on and on forever. But you know,” I got quieter, making her look at me, “He’ll never be yours, not the way you want him to be.”
She sighed, her eyes shying from mine, and said quietly, “I know.” She gripped my hand. “I’ve known for a long time now, I suppose.”
A hole of light tore at the curtain of blackness enveloping the sea as fireworks were lit at the Pier. The sound hit us moments later, accompanied by the soft roar of voices on the shore. The bombardment of the stars continued a while, lighting our faces in time with the explosions.
“But today, I have freedom. Happy New Year, ” she whispered in my ear as, taking my face in her hands, she gently kissed me. It was the first time she had ever made love known to me — but it wasn’t the last time those lips told me secrets without the awkward use of words.
