Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4567 | Page 325

“And yours?”
“Jean.”
“That’s beautiful,” Lin answered eagerly.
“And what do you do in your spare time?” The lamplight made Jean’s eyes fiery golden. Even the pearl at his
earlobe looked vividly alive, like a teardrop that a touch might destroy. Happiness was like a green vine
spreading through Lin’s body, growing into flowers and bearing them through her pristine flesh. Lin had never
been that excited in her entire life, and that for one moment, it seemed like Lin finally knew how to set it all
free. Jean sipped at her martini, with tenderness. Lin watched her for a moment, then sampled her.
The sweet smell of his cologne came to Lin once again, a smell suggestive of a certain kind of flower. Lin tried to
lean closer towards it as the alluring odor kept drawing her towards Jean. She wanted to push the table aside so
that she could spring into him and bury her nose in his grey scarf that was tied closely around his neck. Once the
back of their hands brushed on the table, Lin felt more alive than anybody else in the room. She had never seen
that man before. But if she had, could she have forgotten about him? In the silence, Lin felt they both waited for
the other to speak. In fact, Lin’s heart was screaming out loud -- kept chanting the words, “you are
magnificent” or simply “I love you”.
“What do you do on Sundays?” Jean asked.
“I don’t know. Nothing in particular. What do you do?”
“Nothing lately. If you’d like to visit me sometime, you’re welcome to. Oh, would you like to come out this
Sunday?”
“Yes,” Lin said with sheer anticipation.
Lin felt herself blush, and therefore, she looked away from Jean. Instead, she tried to attend to her lunch and
martini. She could now recognize her by the touch alone, by smell; she would know him blind, by the way his
breaths came and his feet struck the earthly grounds. She would know him in heaven, and in hell.
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*****
Sunday came faster than usual. Jean was already waiting at the entrance of St. Petersburg. “Hi!” Jean called, and
leaned over to open the door for her. Lin got in the automobile and pulled the door shut. The automobile was
warm, a long grey one with green leather upholstery. Jean drove slowly north.
To Lin, this little world inside Jean’s car was a revelation on its own, from the green leather upholstery to the
effortless and relaxed style and elegance of its driver. It seemed to Lin, as if the sounds of the world were replaced
with mellifluous melodies. The rest of the world was black and white, but Lin and Jean were in screaming color.
The two roared into the Tze-Yu-Wan Tunnel. A wild, inexplicable excitement mounted within Lin’s body as
she glanced through the windshield. Lin wished that the tunnel would cave in and kill them both, and that their
bodies could be dragged out together. Lin watched his supple fingers gripped the wheel and was fascinated by
the ambiguity beyond those worldly eyes when he concentrated on driving.
They were out of the tunnel. Jean then stopped by a grocery store. Lin sat in the automobile loading her camera
with film. When she had finished, she spotted Jean outside as a teenaged boy collected his money for what he
had bought. The boy had a really bad cold and out of kindness, Jean offered him tissues. Lin stepped out of the
car, aimed her camera and took a few shots. When Jean returned to his automobile, Lin showed the pictures that
she had taken of him. Knowing that she had always wanted to be a professional photographer for her entire life,
Jean decided to give his own camera to Lin.
Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more
than enough for others. Every bit of his flesh was as significant as her own: in pain and sufferings it would still be
clear -- that their worlds would collide eventually. It was love that brought the two completely different worlds
together. She loved him more than he would ever know; he loved her more than he would ever show. Together
Jean and Lin possessed a miracle.
Lin would treasure it forever.