Remembrance Stop

Remembrance Stop

You could hear the hiss of the busses as they came to a stop resting they’re weary wheels and the smell of engines exhaust as it escaped and tainted the air. I hadn’t been to a bus station in a long time. Years of flying to any far destination had pampered me and I felt irritated that my cousin would choose this mode of transportation when there were so many others available. I didn’t expect to have to pick him up at the station. I didn’t mind the airport as it had its many distractions in case of delays.

I looked around for the bus schedule of arrivals and found it on the far wall. He had said he was coming from Seattle as that was the last stop where he would transfer. I sighed, and hour delay, crap at least I brought a book. I glanced around for a place to sit. The roundish blue cup like seats all connected across the open waiting area. I tried to find a place that had as little people around them and headed over hoping to keep my visit brief and as solitary as possible. I sat down and opened the book I had brought; but before I could open it I notice a red scarf two seats down from me. I glanced around to see who may be sitting by me but no one was around. They must have forgotten it. I reached over and picked it up immediately noticing how soft and silky it felt. It was more than plain red. It was rich and deep like the color or a wilting red rose. It had a shear trim around it that was light and airy and it immediately reminded me of her. Satianya… mmm the name vibrated in my head and without knowing it the scarf lifted to my nose and I smelled the sweet perfume left behind by its owner. I looked around searching for her eager to see her again, but realized that it could not be her. I had not seen Satianya since college… actually since I dropped her off at the bus station. I guess that’s why this brought her memory back to me. Suddenly the thought of waiting in this bus station was more than ok to me. The memories that rushed back flooded my heart and I ached to see Satianya again. Why did we lose touch? Why? why? why? I asked myself over and over as every thought of her and what we had and could have had went through my mind. I could almost hear her voice, so soft and sweet with the Brazilian accent I loved with all my heart.
“My Jeremy how I’ve missed you” I heard.
“I’ve missed you too my lost love” I whispered back.
Then I felt a hand on my shoulder and realized there was someone there. I turned my heart pumping with the exhilaration of her memories. And then she was there. Like a dream and a vision and more beautiful that I had imagined.
“Satianya” My voice faltered. I could not believe she was there. This must be a hallucination. She stared into my eye with a slight smile on her face and spoke with that voice like an angel.
“My Jeremy, fate must have brought you here as I was thinking of you only yesterday. I shall not waste my fate and let you go again. Please tell me you are not married?” her voice soft and shy.
“No. I spoke. “There was never anyone who could compare to you.”

We tell that story to our grandchildren now and they always smile and ask to hear it again. I never tire of telling it.

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