Poetry: Volume 8 a collaboration of Theresa C. Newbill with Robert Brian Newbill

PART 1

A Rainy Day In New York City

I met her today. We chose a public place, a mall in the city.
I arrived between the jostling of crowds and the roaring clatter of traffic often finding myself stealing quietly away vainly puzzling my brains trying to fix some clever phases and ceaseless self-conversations. The floor glowed and flamed with all the colors of the various lighted advertisements and for the first time through mingled fumes of hot pretzels, incense, and tobacco we found each other standing face to face; both nervous, both curious. She was so beautiful, just like I knew she would be. We walked around, made small talk. Part of me was back in high school on my first date.

She was scared too. We had hidden behind walls for so long we didn’t know any other way to be. Stopping at a lunch counter for ice cream, I finally had the courage to hold her hand and she didn’t pull away.

We left the counter and walked towards the door. I was so happy. She seemed happy too. We had just spent the best day of our lives together and hadn’t even realized it. It was pouring rain outside. She told me she had to go to the ladies’ room and would I please wait for her. I’ve waited all my life for her. She was gone for about five minutes or so. The rain had all but stopped.

All the while she was gone I thought to myself, when she comes back, I will kiss her. She emerged and walked towards me then past me towards the exit. Her whole appearance seemed to have changed. She walked very fast and her face was etched with a determined look that frightened me. She brushed by me, very nearly knocking me down. All she said was, “I have to go.”

I followed her. I was calling her name and running after her. I caught up to her at her car. I begged her to tell me what was wrong. What was it that I had said or done, or not said, or not done? All she said was, “I can’t do this!” I finally said, “You sound like you want me to go away.” She said, “I do want you to go away!”

She slammed the car door and sped off.

The rain started, but still I walked home. Ten miles of walking in the rain but I didn’t care. I walked from the Battery to West 112th street. It was perfect. No one could see my tears.

Outside late that night there was a huge thunderstorm. That was cool though. I have never been afraid of them even when I was a kid; I loved the sounds of the rain and the thunder; almost like I could ride away on them.

I loved them as a child would though, when I knew I was safe and protected. Back then I got off on imagining space aliens attacking or something.

Now I only enjoy them as long as the power doesn’t go out.

Did I lose something along the way?

Now when I hear them, I worry, I remember and I wish.

I worry that the electricity will fail, and all lines of communication to my Angel, will be cut. Then I remember her walking out on me and I wish that I could be with her and hold her and that we could watch and listen in each other’s arms; and ride away on the sounds together.

PART 2

The Airport

It had been a long, tiresome flight. I had just returned from visiting some distant relatives in Scotland. After what had happened just a few weeks ago, I needed some time away from the city. I stayed at a little Bed and Breakfast in the Highlands. I thought it would cheer me up. It’s so peaceful and beautiful there. But it didn’t help. There was still too much “her” running through my head. All I could do was think of how much I wished she were there so I could share it with her. Then I cut the trip short soon after I realized that not even a bottle of twenty-year-old Scotch whiskey and an ocean could separate me from the pain and the fear that I had lost her forever.

Still, I waited to get off the plane. As usual I had been stuck in a seat in coach over the wing. The only thing that ever made me nervous when flying was the way the wing flaps extended out so far during the landing. All the bloody marys in the world couldn’t make that go away any more than they could make the emptiness in my heart go away.

But the wing flaps were the least of my concerns. I was going to see her again. She was going to see me again. She was supposed to be there waiting for me.

I exited the plane. I walked into the terminal. I was so afraid she wouldn’t be there. I was almost as afraid that she would be, because if she was, would she be angry? Would she run again? But she was waiting there for me.

Once again she was more beautiful than any dream of beauty I had ever known.

We approached each other. We couldn’t speak. There were no words that could express the power of that moment. We locked in a passionate embrace that went on long enough for airport security to ask if there was a problem. I said, “No. Not any more.”

Theresa C. Newbill is a is a self described free spirit and former elementary school teacher turned writer. Her work has been widely published in various print and online magazines and she has received numerous awards for her writing. Robert Brian Newbill was Theresa C. Newbill’s husband and love of her life. (June 30 1969-July 3,2006)