prologue
The view from the top, fifty floors up to be exact--- there's nothing quite like it! Of course the man who stood in front of his window gazing at the magnificence of the city before him with a mug of iced earl gray tea on one hand knew that. It was why he had the place built in the first place.
We have come a long way, he mused. A life time of worth of experiences taught him that beginnings were important. This night of all nights reminded him of that. He asked himself, had he known would those very same choices be made, or did life's circumstances forced him to make those choices?
Without a second of hesitation he would have made the very same choices and knew it was a little of both circumstances and will that got them all this far.
Then he thought about his father and would he have approved of the choices his only child made? He laughed at himself, probably not. It amused him that even now, so many years have passed, both his parents long gone, he still sought their approval. Perhaps this was as it would always be. He knew his own children did the same.
Behind him, his mind registered a woman stirring under the comfortable bed covers. His beautiful wife for more years now than he had fingers and toes. Closing his eyes, he can remember everything there is about her---- from every freckle, every curve, every expression, every frown. Even her scent--- his mind could in a moment's summon make her alive. Her every smile, her laughter, the sharpness of her mind, the clarity of her heart and the beauty of her spirit that captivated him then and still enchants him now. If there was something to be thankful for other than their children, he thanked God that He had blessed him with such a beautiful, extraordinary and magnificent wife.
The man still remembered in an unguarded moment that his wife once called him, her “soul mate”--- or some rubbish to that effect. Of course being the man that he is, always believed that it was the moment that she knew their love for each other was true. It was the same moment that he did find out himself.
He loved her, there was no denying that.
The clock by the bedside, illuminated by a gentle light read 2 o'clock in the morning. Why couldn't he sleep? He knew the answer to that of course.
It was The Day.
It was around this time on this very same day all those years ago that life threw him a curve ball. It was a night--- no morning he corrected himself so unlike this one that put him of this course.
As a student of history, he knew the past was practically littered by so many women remembered some because of their accomplishments and others because they were the sign posts that changed the direction of history. A bible reader would have Eve for example at the top of their list, mother of the human race if one believed in the Good Book. Then there was the Virgin Mary that Catholics everywhere believed gave birth to God's Son who redeemed the world.
There were many others like Cleopatra who ruled a kingdom already ancient when Christ was born. And then there were scientists like Currie or politicians or artists throughout history. Lately some scientists by following our bloodlines in the genetic sort of way are now saying that the entire human race could be traced back to a tribe--- through the combination of acherology, study of the climate and mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA) or a woman quite possibly an “eve” in what is now known as Southern Africa. Now the feminists would probably be spinning all this right about now.
Why did he think these thoughts? Of course it was all about her and his promise never to forget the one woman who set him on this path. The only woman after his wife, daughter and mother that he will never forget.
Every year, on this date he would always wonder at her final moments. How she must have felt on that night when rain poured like heaven's fury pounding this city. Had she known it was the end? Alone, cold, frightened, bruised, battered with her blood mingling with the filth that made this city; everything about her--- the laughter that gave a room life washed away by the downpour of rain and swept away by the flood. Her smile that only now can only be remembered and never again experienced. She was only twenty years old that night. Such waste.
Would it have made a difference that her death started a chain of events leading up to this moment? Few people would know of Samantha Chen, much less remember her or that she walked this earth albeit briefly.
The man knew, he did not love her.
Samantha Chen was the curve ball that changed his life and so indirectly is responsible for the countless people's lives that he had changed for better or worse. Only a handful would know, the magnificence of the city before them today was because of one woman, like Helen of Troy who launched a thousand ships, Samantha Chen by dying launched an new age. The man knew, history ought to decide whether or not it was for good or ill.
He promised her that he would always remember and had not failed since. Samantha Chen may not have lived long but she would never be forgotten.
We have come a long way, he mused. A life time of worth of experiences taught him that beginnings were important. This night of all nights reminded him of that. He asked himself, had he known would those very same choices be made, or did life's circumstances forced him to make those choices?
Without a second of hesitation he would have made the very same choices and knew it was a little of both circumstances and will that got them all this far.
Then he thought about his father and would he have approved of the choices his only child made? He laughed at himself, probably not. It amused him that even now, so many years have passed, both his parents long gone, he still sought their approval. Perhaps this was as it would always be. He knew his own children did the same.
Behind him, his mind registered a woman stirring under the comfortable bed covers. His beautiful wife for more years now than he had fingers and toes. Closing his eyes, he can remember everything there is about her---- from every freckle, every curve, every expression, every frown. Even her scent--- his mind could in a moment's summon make her alive. Her every smile, her laughter, the sharpness of her mind, the clarity of her heart and the beauty of her spirit that captivated him then and still enchants him now. If there was something to be thankful for other than their children, he thanked God that He had blessed him with such a beautiful, extraordinary and magnificent wife.
The man still remembered in an unguarded moment that his wife once called him, her “soul mate”--- or some rubbish to that effect. Of course being the man that he is, always believed that it was the moment that she knew their love for each other was true. It was the same moment that he did find out himself.
He loved her, there was no denying that.
The clock by the bedside, illuminated by a gentle light read 2 o'clock in the morning. Why couldn't he sleep? He knew the answer to that of course.
It was The Day.
It was around this time on this very same day all those years ago that life threw him a curve ball. It was a night--- no morning he corrected himself so unlike this one that put him of this course.
As a student of history, he knew the past was practically littered by so many women remembered some because of their accomplishments and others because they were the sign posts that changed the direction of history. A bible reader would have Eve for example at the top of their list, mother of the human race if one believed in the Good Book. Then there was the Virgin Mary that Catholics everywhere believed gave birth to God's Son who redeemed the world.
There were many others like Cleopatra who ruled a kingdom already ancient when Christ was born. And then there were scientists like Currie or politicians or artists throughout history. Lately some scientists by following our bloodlines in the genetic sort of way are now saying that the entire human race could be traced back to a tribe--- through the combination of acherology, study of the climate and mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA) or a woman quite possibly an “eve” in what is now known as Southern Africa. Now the feminists would probably be spinning all this right about now.
Why did he think these thoughts? Of course it was all about her and his promise never to forget the one woman who set him on this path. The only woman after his wife, daughter and mother that he will never forget.
Every year, on this date he would always wonder at her final moments. How she must have felt on that night when rain poured like heaven's fury pounding this city. Had she known it was the end? Alone, cold, frightened, bruised, battered with her blood mingling with the filth that made this city; everything about her--- the laughter that gave a room life washed away by the downpour of rain and swept away by the flood. Her smile that only now can only be remembered and never again experienced. She was only twenty years old that night. Such waste.
Would it have made a difference that her death started a chain of events leading up to this moment? Few people would know of Samantha Chen, much less remember her or that she walked this earth albeit briefly.
The man knew, he did not love her.
Samantha Chen was the curve ball that changed his life and so indirectly is responsible for the countless people's lives that he had changed for better or worse. Only a handful would know, the magnificence of the city before them today was because of one woman, like Helen of Troy who launched a thousand ships, Samantha Chen by dying launched an new age. The man knew, history ought to decide whether or not it was for good or ill.
He promised her that he would always remember and had not failed since. Samantha Chen may not have lived long but she would never be forgotten.
posted by Cocoy at 7:47 AM
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