5/4/13

One more chance
By Rocky Teh


He’d walked the tightrope one too many times.

One too many suspicious nights out, one too many scents on his shirt he shouldn’t have had, one too many text messages she shouldn’t have seen. A small place like that, whisperings and rumors soon began to build up. Rumors she simply could not ignore.

The way it was going, putting pen to the divorce papers was the only humane way out in the same way that the only humane way out for a mad quadriplegic was a mercy drink of almond tea.

Two whole years she disappeared from his life. His business grew in that time, which only served to alienate the two of them even more. The pretty young things, young enough to be the charges he babysat in high school, came and went.

Mostly went. His love life had the consistency of water and soon enough, he found himself wanting her back.

He’d come into the office, his mind on the furthest things away from her. Files were opened, pens were clicked. There was a business trip to Bandar Aceh that he had to worry about. A Malaysian client was-
‘She’s leaving today,’ Will said. ‘Going back to the main island.’
‘Who?’
‘Why, Melanie, of course. She said she wanted to meet you.’
‘Don’t pull this crap now, Will. We’ve got more important-‘ God, you’re an idiot. You’ve been telling yourself you didn’t care.
‘I met her at the taxi stand today. She told me in person.’
Silence. The writing stopped.
‘Last chance, Gary’, they’d reminded him. ‘Last chance-’
He was out the door even before Will could even say ‘Just pulling your leg, mate’. The island wasn’t very big nor very developed – after all an airport was – but it was still big enough for travelling from one end to another to take precious time. Several times along the way he’d nearly given up. ‘Ah, forget about her, mate’ he told himself. ‘You’ll find another one…’

His determination flickered like a candle. Flickered it did, but go out it did not. There was something about her, though Gary had no idea what the hell that was. Was it her infectious little laugh? Her deep brown eyes – burnt little caramels which glistened every time he’d done something stupid? Her... and then Gary realized. It was not a single quality about her that he still wanted, but all her qualities in its entirety.

With a singular ferocity he gripped the bus pole, threatening to strangle it, more determined than ever that he would get her back.
He burst out of the bus like a bird freed from its cage. Slamming into an old woman, his 200 pound frame was nearly enough to topple her over. Yet he sprinted onwards, ignoring the bemoaning of the youth of today that began to burble out of her mouth.

He leaned forward as he ran, canvas All Stars thudding heavily on the pavement. Looking up at the buildings he passed forced a sigh out of him. ‘At least another half mile’, he thought, realizing only just then that he had alighted at the wrong stop.

Wheezing like an asthmatic, Gary skidded to a halt. His piercing blue eyes did a quick scan of the distance he had covered He tried to debate with himself. Should he…
No
No time.
You can do it, Gary.
And at that, he took off once again, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision with a cyclist. It was then that he had a brain wave. A stroke of genius. Why, of course. No one around here had the habit of locking their bikes.

The speed at which it was executed was amazing. He’d thrown himself onto it with such vigor that he was afraid, for a heart stopping moment, that it would break. Miraculously, though, it did not, and he pedaled away. Soon enough he could hear the whirring of the rubbers on the tarmac, and he smiled. The sound of speed. The sound of progress.

To his utter delight he could smell the sea. Hear it, even. Or so he thought. But a man needs little to encourage himself in times of desperation. Throwing what little caution remained into the breeze, he willed his legs – their muscles a result of years on the rugby field – into attacking the pedals with greater velocity. Throwing himself backwards, he let the suspension work its magic as he cut across the main road. Cars honked, some screeched, many swore, but he could not have cared less. Allowing himself a glimpse of the traffic, however, he gritted his teeth. So many cars and not a single bloody taxi. A taxi which would have saved him his strength, sweat and much more.

Skidding through the gates of the jetty he threw his body from the bike, and shot through the revolving doors. Frantically, he tried to locate the schedule.
“Departs at five p.m sharp…”
“Ladies and gentlemen… this is the last call…”
“…Gate two… Gate two…”
The clock next to the schedule informed him that it was now four forty-nine in the afternoon. On a day like this, it was all the provocation he needed. In an extraordinary stroke of luck, he found himself to be little more than fifty yards from gate two. Dripping with sweat, he swept the sticky mop of hair that curtained his eyes. And saw her immediately, just as she was about to hand her ticket to the fat bloke behind the counter.
“Mel!” He roared, surprised at the decibels he was capable of producing – given that he had been panting and wheezing just seconds earlier.
The entire jetty froze.
Happily, so did she.


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16, writes when inspired, sleeps when not.