White rocking chairs??
Who has white rocking chairs in an airport terminal?!
"Classic", I thought, full of mirth.
With a perma-bemused look on my face..
I strode briskly through the glass-paned building in North Carolina..
Outside, the sweltering heat and huge airplanes, made a glorious sight..
But the sights on the inside, however, were more intriguing..
A swaying yellow dress was in my crosshairs..
And like a heat-seeking missile, I homed in..
But first, my bladder needed emptying..
A quick glance up at the signs, had me walking briskly..
Past 'Taste of Carolina'..
Past the guy playing the piano outside 'Burger King'
I ducked into the closest toilet I came across..
A couple of minutes later..
I caught up with her, just as she entered 'Baggage Reclaim'
With a baggage carousel between us, I paused opposite her, as the circular conveyor belt came to life..
It's rotary motors whirring; spitting forth bag after bag at a steady pace..
I glanced across at her..
And that minute, it struck me like a lightening bolt.
Her face took me back to a place I never wanted to remember
Those facial features..
They looked errily familiar..
Yeah, especially those eyes..
They brought back memories I thought I had banished, forever..
I had known Jola for 2 years and a bit..
Right from the start, I had always called her, Baby Jay. She just called me, Roc.
And even though we knew what we shared would never last..
We were too wrapped up in each other to care much..
I was devoted to making her happy, making her laugh, making her smile..
And she always gave as good as she got..
But still, we knew we wouldn't last..
Cos I was the wrong blood type and she was a sickle cell anaemic..
A few times, she told me tales of what it was like for her growing up..
The pain, the struggle, the everyday torment..
In my eyes, she was 'Half woman, Half amazing'..
Her 25th birthday came..
I had a few ideas on how to make it memorable.. one she'd always remember..
Everyday, for the six days preceding her birthday..
I'd gotten her something I knew she loved..
The first day; Handmade belgian chocolates.
Second; Pair of heels from Aldo, that she had once seen and loved..
Third day; Books from Waterstones. She always loved a good read.
The fourth day; A gold swatch wristwatch..
Fifth; a set of white towels, with the words 'Baby Jay' inscribed in the corner.
And on the sixth day; Flowers. A dozen red roses, a dozen pink roses, and one white one.. For each year.. 25 roses.
On her birthday..
I remember showing up on her doorstep, card and a little rectangle box in hand..
It was the only prezzie she had hinted at..
I remember her brother's face as he opened the door..
I remember the words. "Crisis! Last night! Hospital!"
I remember her weak smile as she saw me walk in..
I remember my shock at how weak she looked from all the morphine injections..
I remember us laughing at her words, as opened the box & clicked the white gold necklace into place..
"At this rate, I'm gonna have to get a tat on my tits with your name on it."
Even in pain, her wry humour shone through..
Sadly, she died ten days later.
"Excuse me.. Hi.. Excuse me.." The voice said..
Bringing me jarringly back into the present..
The lady in the yellow dress had walked over and was standing directly in front of me..
Smiling at me with a distinct twinkle in her eye..
Her eyelashes were exquisite..
The slight pout to her mouth was disturbingly seductive..
And even her barely concealed black spots only served to accentuate her looks..
Just as I readied my apologies for staring indiscreetly..
She said haltingly..
"Hi. I was.. just.. uhm.. this is a bit odd.. but I noticed.. something.. and I just thought.."
Smiling amiably, "Really?" I asked "Go on, what's.."
She responded in a conspirational tone, "Your fly's open!"