Julie
By j.s.herscovitch
- 459 reads
Sam Naylor had no illusions about his life. He thought of himself as
one of those people 'shit' happened to. First, there was job which he
had lost the previous Christmas, when he was replaced by a younger man,
who had more qualifications than himself, but far less
experience.
Then there was the car, without which he felt lost. That too, had been
taken from him, when he had fallen behind on the HP payments.
But when his relationship floundered, and she walked out on him, Sam
had been devastated. Although, he attempted to push the thought away,
it had more tenacity than he had muscle.
Once, he had been an urbane man, with a sense of fun, and a
devil-may-care attitude to life. But now he felt half alive. Memories
of Julie consumed him.
She didn't seem very attractive to him, when he first met her.
Although, when she spoke and conversation flowed between them, Sam felt
many years younger. She pleased him, and he had believed the feeling
was mutual.
"I'll have two packets of Tobacco Pouch," he said, to the newsagent,
vacantly. "And while I'm at it, give me 1lb of Mellow Flake," added
Sam. He paid the newsagent, and left the shop, carelessly slamming the
door. The street seemed to carry him off in endless directions.
He was vaguely aware of musicians playing a tiresome popular tune. A
group of boys were playing with a football, and a shopkeeper was trying
to bribe them into taking their game elsewhere. A couple walking hand
in hand, were kissing, un-selfconsciously. Sam's stomach churned.
"It's alright for some," he mused.
He turned the corner of Bourbon Street, and wandered into the park that
had once been their favourite haunt. Sam's legs were beginning to
protest. He found a dusty park bench, and cleaned the surface with the
palm of his hand. And only then did he see her. She seemed, not in the
least surprised that he would be there.
Julie wiped away a tear with a pink handkerchief. Sam felt himself
welling up with emotion. In the eighteen months in which they had been
apart, there had not been a day, in which Sam had not thought of
Julie.
"Hello," he said lamely. Julie's face lightened with relief.
"I missed you," she confided to him.
"Me too," concurred Sam. "I wish I had stayed. We might have worked it
out."
Julie appeared troubled. Sam looked at her quizically. "Where did you
go?"
Julie remained silent. Sam filled in the gaps.
"I made a mistake. I should have understood more...Julie, I want you
back," he admitted.
"Sam, you know that's what I want. I'm not here by accident," she
said.
"That's wonderful Julie. That's bloody wonderful," he exclaimed.
They embraced each other, and Julie gave Sam a hurried peck on the
cheek. Sam touched her hands. They felt unusually cold.
"I'll see you later, Sam. I've got to meet someone from Deckers
Publishing House, for work," she told him.
"Ok Julie. See you tonight at the Grange Nightclub," he said.
Sam watched Julie walk off into the horizon. At first, he felt
contentment, but then he wondered why he hadn't offered to accompany
her to Deckers Publishing House. Even more puzzling, was the fact that
Sam remembered, that the day before Julie left, she had visited Deckers
Publishing House. But of course, Sam decided, this must have been pure
coincidence.
He arrived at the nightclub, wearing the jacket he had worn, when he
had first met Julie, all those years ago. Back then, Sam had though,
she was the most beautiful woman in the dancehall. But tonight was
special, and he considered that Julie was the most striking woman in
all of the world.
Sam could not contain his excitement, on seeing her, that evening. She
tapped him on the shoulder, and they kissed. Julie looked radiant, and
her milky white skin, positively glowed.
He kissed her, and led her to the dancefloor.
"I'm not really in the mood," she protested.
"Please dance, for old times sake," said Sam, and Julie relented.
At first, they both enjoyed themselves immensely. Julie was elegant,
and an accomplished dancer, to boot. But after a while, Sam observed
that people were looking at them in a strange way.
"What's up with these people?" said Sam, with irritation. They decided
to leave the club.
It was raining as they walked into the street. Julie seemed wholly
unaffected by the raindrops, which almost seemed to bounce off her.
Sam, for his part, became soaking wet.
When they arrived at Sam's house, Julie said she had something to tell
him.
"No, it can wait," insisted Sam. "I just want things to be like they
used to be."
He offered her a glass of champagne.
"I don't drink anymore," she said, glumly.
They took off their clothes, and got into Sam's bed. It had been
eighteen months since they had last slept together. Sam was fatigued.
Before he dropped off to sleep he told Julie that, "It's good to have
you back."
Julie answered him softly, "I'll always love you," she said. Then she
added in a hushed voice, "I'll watch over you, from afar."
Sam did not understand her meaning, but his tiredness got the better of
him, as he closed his eyes and fell into a honeyed sleep.
The alarm clock cannon-fired at seven-twenty the next morning. Sam
quickly switched it off. He did not fee like getting up. Sam stretched
out his arms clumsily, and turned to the other side of his mattress. He
touched the pillow, and opened his eyes. Sam was alone.
"Julie, if you're up, make me a cup of tea, will you darling?" he
called out.
There was no response. Sam tried again, but the silence shouted back at
him. And then it dawned on him. Julie had been killed in a car crash
eighteen months ago. How, he wondered, could he not have remembered
that? Sam covered his head with a pillow, and then gasped, for tucked
inside the pillowcase was a pink handkerchief.
It bore the words, "To Sam, from Julie."
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