Orpheus Looks Back by George Loukas - HTML preview

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23

GOODBYE  ONCE AGAIN

 

Downstairs, Lizzie and Karima waited just inside the entrance of the building with the luggage. I went to fetch the car. It was still dark and cold and Cairo was yawning and stretching, about to wake up. One or two school buses passed by still empty on the way to their first pick-ups. In an hour, traffic would be in full swing. I stopped the car in front of the building and Karima helped me load the bags in the trunk. She hugged and kissed Lizzie with tears in her eyes. Lizzie kissed her back, thanked her and we were off.

My nightmare began. I remembered Boston. The sudden depression that hit us on our way to the airport. The despair of the short wait for the boarding call. The tears that had given me hope. Well, things were different now. There was hope and the future looked bright. The separation would be short. Why, then, was I feeling so entirely dejected? Why did I keep thinking that all the good omens were fragile and reversible? Why was depression once again stretching its tentacles at me? I looked at Lizzie. She looked so utterly beautiful that it was still a wonder to think she was mine. That she loved me. Suddenly what I had taken for granted amazed me, frightened me. Would it always be so? I smiled. Tried to sound gay.

'Tomorrow you'll be in mummy's arms.'

'Yes. At least I have that.'

'Lizzie, just as soon as you arrive in Boston, please send me a cable to reassure me.'

'Of course I shall.'

'Will you write to me?'

'Oh Michael, what a question! Do you doubt it?'

'Just to tell me what you have been doing. Short letters. They needn't be long.'

'Sure.'

'And Lizzie.'

'Yes?'

'If you find someone else, I do not hold you to any promises. To any of the dreams we have made. You are completely free. You know that.'

I did not look at her because I felt my eyes welling. I felt her hand caress my hair.

'Good Lord! What a masochist you are. Who would I find?'

'Someone worthy of you.'

'But what if I want someone better than me? Am I not allowed to have him?'

'You are so awfully sweet. So beautiful and so awfully sweet.'

We reached Abbasieh and daylight started intruding in the darkness. We turned left, under another railway bridge, towards Heliopolis passing outside the army camps and military headquarters. The road was straight for a small distance and I kissed Lisa but every tender move was counter-productive. It deepened my gloom. To the left at the beginning of Manshiet El Bakri district a new mosque was built. It was to be Abdel Nasser's future mausoleum. Further down the road, the small area cordoned off was Jimmy's home. The fearful dictator living modestly. To ruin the rich with a clear conscience. I pointed them out to Lizzie. Last minute sightseeing. To break the gloomy silence, the painful thoughts and my cheerless mien. She moved close to me and enfolded my right arm. I let go of the steering wheel and placed it on her leg. We drove a while in silence. Exchanging looks and mirthless half smiles. Crossed a peaceful, still- sleeping Heliopolis and at the end of the lovely Oruba Street reached the stretch of desert. The sun was rising out of the ground. Ra, I thought, today I loathe you. It is one day I could do without.

'Isn't the sun glorious?' said Lizzie.

'Yes, my baby. It promises to be a lovely day.'

'Oh I shall probably spend it sleeping away in an uncomfortable seat.'

'And I, uncomfortably in a comfortable bed.'

She smiled.

We were nearing the airport.

'Lizzie, remember darling, you're Evangelia Makris. Evangelia Makris here in Egypt. Evangelia Makris when you enter the States.'

'Yes, yes, I remember. I shall never forget I am your wife.'

'Yes my darling, and I am your lover. Husband is too boring a word. A husband is engrossed in making money and is too exhausted to make love. So you are my wife and I am your lover.'

'Fair enough, my sweet. Just as long as you are mine. Just as long as you desire me the way you did. Oh, I shall dream about you. I shall long for your lovemaking.'

We entered the airport and I drove to the building for departing flights and stopped the car to unload Lizzie's bag. Ten porters rushed to help. I shooed them away. Lizzie came out of the car and I asked her to wait for me. I drove off to the parking lot and then walked back to Lizzie. What an utter fool I was to let her leave on her own. I should have gone with her. My business would have muddled on for a while. There would inevitably have been some leaks and thefts but life, love, was more important. I would have returned back later to try to sell. Meanwhile, I would be with my angel. I would have escaped purgatory, would have been spared the torture. Oh God. Sometimes sensible decisions are so completely stupid. I chose to be sensible and was ultimately foolish when I had in my hands a gift that very few people were destined to taste. The thoughts came in a flash and I felt a physical pain in my chest. I walked on and saw her standing near her bag looking so graceful and composed. Oh, you utter fool.

'Hi Lizzie. All right?'

'Yes. Doing a little face watching. Remember?'

'You bet. Airports are the best places. Shall we go in?'

I picked her bag and we went in the cavernous hall. To the TWA counter. A small crowd bunched up in front of the two employees who were checking in the passengers. Queuing goes against the grain in Egypt. People have no compunction to take your turn. You try to do the same. It is a way of life. You do not get angry and say, that was my turn. You try to take theirs. Best man wins. When I pushed my way to the counter, I gave Lizzie's passport and ticket and called her. She squeezed in to answer the usual questions. Smoking or non-smoking, window seat or aisle, front of the aircraft or the back. So, boarding in an hour and a half. Call up time for customs and passport control in forty minutes. We squeezed out. Phew. Forty minutes. I looked at her. She smiled. I stared at her. She tilted her head questioningly, still with a smile. I wanted to look at her for forty minutes.

'What does one do for forty minutes?' I said. 'Let's sit somewhere.'

She held my hand and her eyes were glistening. We walked to a long seat and sat down holding hands.

'I am so sorry, Lizzie. Please forgive me. I ought not to have left you alone.'

'It's all right, Michael. It won't be long.'

'I am such a fool. I did not realize how valuable our time together is. I am a little slow on the uptake. Always grasp the crux too late.'

'It really does not matter. We need the break after all. I need to spend time with my mother. To untangle my affairs. To think things out. This money is burdening me. When we escaped, I had not the slightest doubt I would keep it. Those five days with you have mellowed me. Money is important but not everything. Will you mind, Michael, if I consider giving it back?'

'I'd be the proudest man on earth if you returned the money. In any case, don't let it bother you. Take your time deciding. You must be at peace with your conscience with the money or without. Do not hasten to return it and regret it later. Bear in mind what for you is a dilemma for Abdullah is a trifle.'

'I love you because you are noble.'

'And I love you because money is nothing. It is you who is the treasure.'

'Let's walk a bit,' she said and got up.

We walked arm in arm to the newspaper stand and I bought the Time Magazine and Newsweek for her.

'I am so tired,' she said. 'I won't do much reading.'

'The voyage is long. They will keep you company.'

We meandered here and there, two dazed souls in the midst of frenetic activity and the agitated, tense noise of luggage moved, families bidding farewell to loved ones, instructions shouted by officials, complaints and protests voiced, all in a vast variety of decibel counts. After a short turn, I pulled Lizzie to a bench and we sat down again.

'What is it?' she asked. 'Nothing. I want to look at you.' She smiled.

'Yes. Thank you. That is what I wanted. Your smile.'

She kept on smiling and I smiled too.

'Hey, that's it,' she said happily. 'That's better.'

She bent and kissed me on the mouth. The loudspeaker announced that the passengers of her flight should proceed to passport control. Our last kiss of love had become a tender good bye. We were startled and dismayed. We got up and embraced, silently, tightly. What was there to say? The strength of our embrace, our diction. I held her to my breast. She was my life. My happiness. About to fly away. Our arms started to ache and we let go. I looked at her and saw her eyes were wet. She smiled at me, I took her arm and we moved slowly to the gate. I could think of nothing to say. Words would trivialize my vast sorrow. Even supposing they would get past the lump in my throat. We embraced again, at the gate. Tightly. For a long while. My face in her hair, my breath her perfume. I had tears in my eyes and felt hers wetting my neck. Oh Lizzie, don't cry for an utter fool. For a total moron. I had to see her face for a few seconds more. She wiped her eyes with her hand like a little girl and smiled. I smiled, too, ashamed of my tears. People were staring at us.

'Have your passport ready.'

She fumbled in her bag and brought it out. Showed it to me with a smile. 'Good bye. Take care,' she said simply.

'Good bye, my angel.'

She turned abruptly and left, blindly walking in the wrong direction. A guard stopped her and pointed the right way. She smiled at him, changed route and I lost her. I stood for a while quite lost myself and then walked like an old man to the visitors' gallery to catch a glimpse of her, as she would board the bus. I leaned on the railing and watched other passenger board the buses for other destinations. A plane took off roaring leaving a haze in its wake as it banked, turned and went on its way. An indefinable feeling of wonder always filled me at the sight of airplanes leaving. A longing for flight and adventure. Yearnings of a dreamer. Another plane landed after a while and I was surprised because generally in Cairo arrivals landed at night and departures took off in the mornings. I could see the gleaming Super Constellation that would take my Lizzie away. So graceful with its slightly curving fuselage, its large characteristic tail with the three vertical stabilizing fins, its four propellers and the red TWA logo.

The plane that landed left the runway and approached the airport building. It came to a stop slightly farther away from the TWA airliner. It was a smaller aircraft and was not of the regular airline company planes. No one came out of it for a while and then I saw a limousine drive out to it. My heart almost stopped and then started thumping like a machine-gun. Abdullah used that same limousine a few months ago with Lizzie. There were not two of them alike in Cairo. The adrenaline started coursing in my blood. Could it be Abdullah in search of his wife? Oh my God, what a bloody awful coincidence. I stood watching the aircraft entranced. The people in it were not in much of a hurry. A few bags were packed in the trunk of the car and three men eventually left the aircraft and entered it. A busload of passengers moved to the TWA plane. I realized it was Lizzie's flight coming out of the airport building just then. An uneven column of people was walking the ten or so meters to the buses that would take them to the airliner. Then, Lizzie came out. The red coat she was wearing was like the cape of a toreador. As enticing to the human eye as a red cape is to a bull. She looked up towards the gallery and waved. I did not know if she could make me out but I waved back.

The limousine approached the airport building as the passengers were climbing into the bus. Lizzie was standing outside looking up and waving. She must have seen me. At least saw someone waving and assumed it was I. She tarried with the last passengers looking up waving as if unable to make up her mind to get into the bus. The limousine was almost there. Get in the bus, Lizzie. Hurry. Hurry. It passed by, not more than a few meters away. It did not stop. The red coat did not catch their eye. The rich are self-centered; they rarely look around. Suddenly she saw the limousine, which had just overtaken her and stood staring at it stock-still, mesmerized until one of the ground staff called her to the bus. She was the last one in. Had she seen her husband? Had she seen her life as a millionairess pass her by? What thoughts had crossed her mind? Fear, regret, relief? I would have loved to know. Before she entered, she turned and waved again for the last time. The bus left and moved towards the plane. I started to relax. The heartbeat was easing. A third bus filled up with a new load of passengers and proceeded to the airplane, the doors of the aircraft were sealed, and the engines started one by one. The huge, noisy metal bird moved to the runway, after a warm-up made its run and climbed into the sky. Phew. A deep breath of relief. Lizzie was safe. Free. Free to choose her life. Bon Voyage, my love. Will I ever see you again?

I left the airport with a springy step. Luck was with us all the way. Her safety was the one redeeming factor of her departure. It had revived my sinking spirits.

Though not for long. On the drive back, the realization of her absence started hitting me. Hitting me none too gently. By the time I reached home, I was close to tears.

Perhaps it was the exhaustion. It compounded my mood. I missed her terribly. I loved her so engrossingly. Nothing could assuage my pain. As soon as I entered the garage, I sent my bag upstairs to the flat with a boy and went to a pharmacy for some sleeping pills. Mohammed came out of the kitchen to greet me and my appearance shocked him. I was haggard from lack of sleep, excessive lovemaking and my expression was one of dejection.

'Welcome home. Is anything wrong?'

'No, nothing. I'm just tired. I don't want to be disturbed. Please remove the telephone plug from its socket. You can finish your work and go and do not come back until tomorrow.'

I went to my bedroom, undressed and entered the bathroom. I still had Lizzie's smell lingering faintly on my clothing and body. I took a shower to wash it off. It would have reminded me of her with every breath. Tortured me with every breath. I put on my pajamas and swallowed a Dormitol. I lay in bed completely exhausted. Lizzie would be asleep in her seat. The plane would be half way to Athens. She would travel all day today and cross the Atlantic at night. Land in Newfoundland in the morning and Boston at noon tomorrow. Give or take a few hours. I started feeling groggy just as I started feeling miserable thinking of Lizzie. Of all the stupid moves in my life, letting her leave alone was undoubtedly the dumbest. I got up, closed the door of my room, closed the shutters, put out the light and went under the covers.

I woke up late afternoon. Lizzie left today, was my first thought. She is still on the plane. My head was heavy. I was coming out of a deep, troubled sleep. I went to the toilet to relieve myself and took another pill. I woke up at night. I did not even care what time it was. It must have been late because the street noise was quite low. At least I did not remember any dreams of frustration. Again, I went to the bathroom to pee and drink some water with the third Dormitol. It knocked me out until Mohammed knocked at my door in the morning. I struggled to get up. Lizzie must still be in an airplane. I missed her so terribly. I did not have the slightest wish to go to work but I thought it best to do so as it would keep my mind off Lizzie.

Perhaps.