The One

A dramatic love Story about Love and Loss. Comes in Three Parts

The one

We blame for our stupidity

And our acrid acts

That will most assuredly get us killed

Can never be any less

Or any more

The one

“She is the one.” Suwilanji said. He sounded certain and looked certain. But he didn’t feel certain. He was seated on a white plastic stool in the middle of the room, chewing an apple. It was a red apple. And it was sweet.

The person he was talking to was lying on the narrow bed positioned on one side of the room. He was lying on his back, his hands tucked under his head. There was a smug smile stretched across his thick dark lips. He was slowly nodding his round head which was adorned with short, sparse hair. A checked blue and white cotton shirt and dark green trousers were covering his portly frame. There were clean, white socks pulled over and concealing his large feet.

“How do you know?” He chuckled, staring at Suwilanji with one sleepy eye. The other eye was closed.

“I just  know, Philip.”

Philip shook his head. “I don’t buy that… something must show for it. How do you know this girl is different from all the others?”

Suwilanji smiled dreamily. “She’s just different.”

“Just different?”

“She’s been there for me. She’s been a genuine friend.”

“Humph.”

“I am serious.” He leaned forward, his elbow resting on his thigh. “When I had absolutely no friend; when no one wanted to be seen around me, she was there. You see, she’s stuck around me when doing so is to her disadvantage.”

“Are you sure it is?”

“It is.”

“Elaborate?”

“You know when I was in bad repute with them my fellow church mates?”

“Yeah. You had questions no one could answer.”

“No, not that no one could answer. They could. It was not the questions that frightened them; it was the answers.”

“Oh.” He began to wriggle his toes, eyeing the half eaten apple in Suwilanji’s left hand. The other hand was supporting his chin.

“True story. So they distanced themselves. The few I talked to and asked these questions talked to the others… and before long, everyone knew about my questions. And they became scared of me. Their fear turned to hatred. They claimed I had apostatized and wished that I depart from among them.”

“They told you so?”

“Some did. Some suggested that I leave and start my own establishment, my own church. They gave the following analogy: how could a child eating his mother’s food start questioning the purity of that food?”

“That’s not an apt analogy.”

“Yeah.” He felt his eyes begin to water. “So they regarded me foul, ill and malevolent; and wished to have nothing to do with me. They stopped greeting me and none of them wanted to be found ‘round me.”

“I hear the policy of the church is that any member who defects should be severed; and the remaining members should not talk to him no more.”

“Yeah.” He sniffled. “But you know the funny thing?”

“No?”

“I was not and have not been officially expunged.”

“Meaning?”

“I am still one of them.”

“Then why the bad treatment?”

“I dared to think out of the box… and so to them I am as good as out of the box. The average church member so strongly believes that the box is a proverbial ark and hence anyone who dares to merely peak out of the box is expressing doubt. Such doubters do not naturally belong in the box.”

“I see.” He sat up and rubbed his head with his hands. “So tell me, Suwi. How did she prove to be different?”

“She stuck to me, when everyone was doubting me and hating me. She walked to me as opposed to walking away. She talked to me as opposed to shutting her eyes. She gave me the benefit of the doubt, when no one else did.”

“She did, huh?”

He nodded, a distant, reminiscent look in his eyes. “Yeah. She did.”

“And that convinces you that she is the one.”

“Yes. I mean, she just has to be the one.”

“But don’t you think it is just a subliminal, psychological response?” A frown spread across his face, lending seriousness to his features.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he shifted and sat at the edge of the bed. His feet skidded across the smooth floor. “She probably identifies with you there. She has gone through something similar, remember?”

“Oh yes. She was once out of the box. And she met resistance and hatred—pretty much like me.”

“My honest opinion is this: she was, and probably is not fully integrated into the box. That is probably why she could gullibly interact with you and tolerate you because she knows a whole lot about the world you were and probably still are eyeing.”

“Hmm.” He said thoughtfully. He took a bite at the apple and chewed slowly. “You got a point there. She would understand, and understanding would beget tolerance, and tolerance, naturally, care.”

“Exactly. Therefore, her gestures could be wrongly interpreted by you as a sign of, I don’t know, love.”

“But she did say she loves me.”

“She probably just said that because you needed to hear it.”

“How?” He stopped chewing and frowned.

“Think about it. Everyone else was running away from you. And she figured she should be different and give you the one thing that no one else could: friendship and care, aka, love.”

“It did startle me when she said it; but not for long. I figured she was speaking out of brotherly obligation: she hardly knew me.”

Suwilanji got up to his feet and walked to one corner where there was a little white bucket. He threw whatever remained of the apple into this bucket. He turned and looked around the room, his hands on his hips. The room was quite empty. Save for the bed, a side table with a King James Bible atop and the stool where he was seated, there was nothing much in the room.  There was a single window covered with a thick, brown curtain. An incandescent lamp hung from the low ceiling, and although it was on, the room was dark.

Suwilanji stared down at his friend. A suspicious look spread across his face.

“Doesn’t this unsettle you?”

“What?” Philip’s eyes widened.

“That Melinda and I are getting a little bit too friendly?”

“Why should it?”

“Because you and Melinda are close friends.”

“Nothing… is and was going on between us.” He said defensively, sputtering a bit.

Suwilanji snickered. If only Philip could hear himself. He came to know Philip through Melinda. Before he starting spending time with Melinda, he used to think she had a thing going with Philip. They were always together, everywhere, and all the time. In fact, whenever he saw Philip, he was reminded of Melinda. But now that he had gotten close to Melinda, Philip had backed away.

“Why, Philip. I thought you liked her.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “She is definitely likeable.”

“Yeah.” He smiled slyly. “She’s got a great body.”

“Yes. Yes, she does. But I believe it is the personality that matters the most.”

“What would you say about her personality?”

“It sucks.”

“Elaborate.”

“She only got guys for friends. When she is down, it is in guys that she finds her comfort.”

“That is undesirable, I agree. But I have met a number of girls like that—girl -hating girls; and had they not been into guys, I would not have known them.”

“Probably true. But it is dangerous for a girl to be like that.”

“I totally agree.”

Suwilanji walked slowly back to his stool and slumped down on it. He sighed. “That was so evident with the way she hovered around you. I bet she did find comfort in you.”

“As a matter of fact she did, more so when she broke up with her boyfriend.”

“Yeah. Talk more about that particular area: her boyfriend. One of the things that bothered me, and probably still does, is how much she was into her boyfriend. She was terribly in love. How does one just walk away from that?”

“Yes. She was quite happy.” He said it listlessly, his eyelids drooping.

“The guy never loved her back; she was the only one that fell in love.”

“Sad,” Suwilanji said, his voice down to a whisper. “I can identify with that.”

“Yeah, the one-sided, unsavory aspect of love.”

“I know a certain girl,” Suwilanji began, “she’s irrationally into me. It’s like she just woke up one morning and decided, whimsically, to love me. Now she behaves all funny like. She’s ditched me a million times basically because I do not return her love. And a million times over she’s taken me back. Says don’t know what it is about me. Lesson learned? When girls love your sorry arse, they love it to the death.”

“Women do tend to love irrationally most of the time; and when they do love they tend to lose their senses.”

“Yeah, the same girl in question told me that out of her own mouth.”

“Is she from inside the box?”

“Yeah.”

“I figured.”

Suwilanji sniggered. “Okay, so… do you think she can be helped, Melinda I mean? She seemed to have an idealized view of things: that guys and girls can just be friends.”

“Idealized, yes. You do not know how many times I tried to help her. I have given up.”

“She never listened to you?”

“No. Damn it. It’s like trying to pull someone out of a quagmire, but their hands are too slippery and each time you try to pull them out they fall right back into the mire. It is only a matter of time before they start to quite like it down there.”

“I see. But I can’t blame her much. She’s grown up around boys.”

“Yes… but she needs to grow up!”

“Sure, she does. It is time she learnt that a boy and a girl cannot just be friends.”

“So, considering all this, just how can she be the one?”

Suwilanji smiled. “I just have the faith. If a girl sticks to your side when no one else will, then it does mean something.”

“Well, even that other girl who likes you but whom you do not like did stick to your side, didn’t she?”

He hesitated. “In a manner of speaking, yes. But she couldn’t accept me for who I am. She desired that I change, throw away my convictions. And if she has any hope of being with me, it is based on the weak bond of the romantic notion that I will change.”

“Oh, and you think Mel likes you for who you are? Don’t you think that she too just sticks around because she hopes that you will change, somewhat?”

Suwilanji shook his head.

Philip bent down and pulled out some canvas shoes from under the bed. He worked his feet into them and stood upright. He was a tall fellow, tall enough to see the crown Of Suwilanji’s head.

‘I can crush this little nitwit,’ he thought. ‘He’s a splinter to my soul!’ Aloud, he said: “I got to go man. All the best with… Mel.”  

“Thanks.”

He walked to the door and grasped the handle. “By the way, how do you intend to help Mel: to change her?”

Suwilanji did not hesitate. “I’ll get into her mind and break a couple of things… and hopefully fix up some new structures.”

“And another question: how did you manage to quickly get over Sonny?”

“She was never meant to stay.”

“One last one: are you staying in the box for Mel?”

“Perhaps.”

Philip shrugged. He opened the door and slipped out into the dark, cold and loveless word. The door banged closed after him. Suwilanji started at the sound.

Something did not feel right to him, about Philip. He had painted a very bad picture of Melinda.

“He makes her seem worse than Sonny.” He said to himself. “Worse than the sly little fuckwit.”

He got up and walked to his bed. He flung himself onto it, lying on his back, his hands clasped tightly above his chest.

“Well, Philip. I am going to fight for her too.” He breathed. “Because she is the one.”

He closed his eyes.

The one

We blame for our stupidity

And our acrid acts

That will most assuredly get us killed

Can never be any less

Or any more

The one

“She’s not the one.” The voice startled him, jolting him wide awake. He sat up on his bed, and cringed. There was a person seated on the stool, staring at him with fervent, burning interest.

“Sampa.” He said, rubbing out the sleep from his eyes. “You scared me.”

“Sorry. The door was not locked, so I got in when you were not answering my knocks.  And here, I find you asleep, talking in your sleep.”

“For real?” His eyes grew round. “What did I say?”

“You was murmuring: Mel is the one.”

“Gosh!” he pulled his legs together, folded them upwards, and rested his chin on his knees. He goggled at his friend. “I did mumble that in my sleep?”

“Yes.” Sampa smiled mischievously. He was a tall, slim man, dressed simply, but with a scowling expression on his face most of the time. Those who knew him attributed this to his propensity to ponder on what to many would appear matters too trivial to think about. He claimed that it was the simple things in life, the smallest issues, which if unchecked could cause the greatest havoc. Suwilanji found it easier to just describe his rather eccentric friend in one word: wise.

Suwilanji frowned and glared at his friend: “What do you mean she’s not the one?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “She just don’t feel right for you. I don’t know a lot about her so I wouldn’t say much; but I have always been fascinated by the possibility of you and Sonny ending up together.”

“Sonny and I are history.” He said bluntly and affirmatively.

“Ah… don’t be too sure, son. I believe you still love her.”

“Well… I don’t hate her.”

Sampa shook his head. “You are not capable of hating anyone, Suwilanji.”

“Oh but I am.”

“No, not that I am aware of.” He gave his usual wise grin—his lips parted slightly and his front teeth showing; it almost looked like a sneer.

“But… after what Sonny did to me, there is no way I could go back after her. She was cheating on me with a married man, right in front of me eyes!”

“You young ones,” his voice was full of pity. “I don’t really understand what went wrong. You was so good together.”

“I bet we was.”

“But aren’t you done with making her jealous?”

“Making her jealous?”

“Yeah—you know what I mean, by frolicking around with her roommate.”

Suwilanji laughed quietly. “That’s never been the idea. I really like Mel. Sonny just drove me right into her arms. When she started to cheat on me, I realized that Mel was the one I really liked.”

“Ugh, don’t give me that!” Sampa suddenly sounded annoyed. “You never really loved Mel!”

“Maybe so, but I do now. She is the one.”

Sampa shot to his feet. “Maybe she is; but Sonny is more of one.”

Suwilanji watched with a gapping mouth as Sampa hasten for the door. He pulled it wide open and was gone.

“What is this?” He shook his head vigorously, hoping that would shake out the confusion he was feeling.

“None of them, boyi.”

He looked up suddenly. The voice was coming from a young man standing in the doorway. His arms were folded across his chest and one leg crossed in front of the other. He had a well-built frame, adorned with clean, pressed clothes: a cream white shirt tucked into charcoal-black trousers. On his feet were flat, leather shoes. His haircut was perfect.

“John.”

The young man paced into the room, treading affectedly, as if there were broken pieces of glass all over the floor.

“None of all these guys are yours. You should just find your own and stop being miserable.”

Suwilanji sat up, a spark of interest in his eyes.  “You are sure?”

“Of course!” He inspected the stool critically, removed a handkerchief, wiped it thoroughly and sat down carefully.

“What makes you say that?”

“Let me put it this way: if all of us were words, you wouldn’t rhyme with any of them.”

“Hah, I see.” He chuckled. John was probably as smart as he looked. “None of them even comes close? At least Mel obliquely rhymes with me, yeah?”

“No. Not Mel. In fact she’s too old for you?”

“Say what!” Amazement stretched across his face.

“I’m serious.”

“Come on—she’s younger than my young sister.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah! She told me her age.”

“Girls lie.”

“Not Mel.”

“You wouldn’t know.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But Suzie… she’s close to being the one.”

“Suzie?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“You two kind of rhyme, in a sense. There are similarities about you.”

“Oh are there? I beg to differ; besides, she said nothing can ever happen between us.”

“That’s sad, because you two can really rhyme, if you choose to.”

“You really think so?”

“Yes I do.”

There was silence as the two friends were lost in thought.

“How about Harriet?” Suwilanji suddenly asked.

“No, uh uh. Too old.”

“Sonny?”

“Certain not! You don’t got cash, and that’s the thing she needs in abundance.”

“Mel?”

“Don’t go there.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He eyed his friend closely. “I mean it.”

John stared at his watch. “Oopsy! I got to go.”

“To where?”

“I got myself an appointment.”

“A girl?”

“Be happy for me.”

“I am.”

Suwilanji remained shaking his head as he watched his friend dart out of the door like a bullet. John, smart and definitely good with the ladies. He greatly respected his opinions.

Suwilanji was alone once more. The room was uncannily quiet. He lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, and waited.

There was a light tapping on the door. He counted the taps: one-two-three-four. He smiled.

“Come in, Melinda.” He turned his head and watched her walk in. She gingerly closed the door after her. “I have been waiting for you.”

She was dressed in a long, brown skirt and a yellow jersey. However, this thick clothing did not hide the beautiful shape of her body; in fact, it enhanced it. Her hair was long, black and rich. She seemed to glide as opposed to walking.

“My darling!” she said in a sweet voice that excited  Suwilanji. His heart leapt—any higher it would have leapt out of his body. He rose to his feet and met her, embracing her tightly. He inhaled deeply, taking in the smell about her—a cocktail of perfumes that made her smell incredible. His fingers fiddled on her nape.

“I missed you,” she said into his ear.

“I missed you more.”

“I missed you morer!”

Suwilanji giggled. “Oh, Mel, you’re crazy. That’s why I like you.”

“I know.” She tried to release herself from his hug, but he held on. “Okay, you can let go.”

“I am not done.” His voice was trembling.

She paused a while with a smirk on her face. “Are you done now?”

“Yeah.” He released her. She sat on the bed and he sat down next to her. He put an arm around her. They looked into each other’s eyes.

“I got something to tell you.” He said earnestly.

“What is that?”

“I love you.”

The words didn’t shock her. “Thank you.”

He was unsettled. He had assumed, naturally, that she would respond with the very three words he had used: words she had once used, but seemed to have forgotten. His eyes fell to her voluptuous lips.

‘I should kiss her!’ He thought. ‘Maybe she is waiting for me to kiss her, then she will say it.’

He tentatively leaned forward, but she looked away. He winced.

She stifled a laugh and turned her head to look at him again. He tried once more. This time he felt her fingers on his chin, digging into his skin.  They forcefully turned his head away. He felt cracks grow on his heart, and blood start oozing out of the cracks. Unable to contain himself anymore, he shot to his feet.

He walked to the door and placed both hands on the door, his head bowed: “Stop doing this; stop hurting me.”

“I’m hurting you?” she sounded apologetic.

“Yes.” He turned and stared at her. Her eyes were watering.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Oh,” he fought to contain himself; his eyes began to sting, and then exude water. “I thought you love me too.”

“I only care… I don’t love you.”

“But… you said you love me—remember?” he was vehement. He had to be: he was fighting for what he wanted. He wanted it so badly that without it, he had decided to die.

“It was not me speaking.”

“Then who was?”

“God.”

Suwilanji laughed. “Philip was right. You are worse than Sonny.”

“I am sorry.” She was weeping.

Eyes fixed intensely on her, he said: “You don’t get it do you? You don’t know how crucial you are, don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I stayed for you. I am where I am because of you. My whole life is revolving around you. I don’t even know who I am anymore. All I know is that I love you.”

“I can’t be your reason for staying. You got to find a better reason.”

“Oh… there is a better reason: it is the same reason that didn’t make you walk away.”

She shook her head, betraying her lack of comprehension.

“That reason is love.”

“That is wrong… I am a mess.”

“Oh really? Just like it was wrong for Jesus to love mankind and die for them?”

She sniggered, beaten by the elegant simplicity of the words. “Suwi, let me ask you a question; and please answer honestly: how many girls have you told you love, just this year alone?”

The question struck him, but reality struck him harder. All this while he had imagined that Melinda was the one who had an idealistic viewpoint of life. But he did too.

At one point, Harriet had been the one. Even Suzie. Even the girl whose love he had failed to return.

“About three.” He said hesitantly.   

“Who?”

“You don’t need to know.”

“I do.”

“Harrient, Suzie… and you.”

“Why did you tell them?”

“They are great people… were there for me. But then they betrayed my trust; and just like you, told me they could not give me love, just care.” He paused and wiped a tear from the edge of his eye. “Maybe it is my destiny. Maybe I am not just lovable.”

“You are.”

“Then why don’t you love me?”

“Because my heart is gone. Someone took it.”

He stared at her in and shook his head. It was all he could do to prevent himself from flying at her and hugging the life out of her.

“Fine,” he said, a look of resignation coming over him. “What do you want from me?”

“Friendship.”

‘They are all the same.’ He thought. He shook his head. “If you wanted me to be only your friend, why did you nature it? Why the heck did you nature the love in me, huh?”

“I am sorry,” was all she could say.

“I understand.” A slight smile spread over his face. He opened the door.

“What are you doing?”

“I am giving you what you want: friendship.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You want friendship? Okay, I’ll give it to you. I don’t think you understand what you want and so I am going to show you. You want friendship? Do you know what mere friendship with a guy entails? Let me lay it out for you: no cuddles, no kisses, no massages, no calls to say goodnight, no daily visits, no messages saying I miss you, no affectionate names, no holding of hands—none of that crap. Only then, can a girl and boy only be friends.”

Despair drenched her soul harder and faster than the tears that were pouring out of her eyes and onto her jersey. She nearly swooned when he stepped out of the room.

“Suwi,” she called after him. “You are breaking my heart.”

“I thought you had no heart sister. Someone took it away, remember?” He said as he closed the door after him.

It was dark outside. But it was darker inside where Melinda sat alone, weeping.

Suwilanji shook himself and took one step, and then another. Soon, he was walking briskly, away from Melinda.

“Melinda,” he said bitterly, biting his lip. “Oh, but she is the one. She is the one who turns me into a monster; she is the one who turns me into a lawless being; she is the one who turns me into a player; she is the one who finally makes me understand what girls want. They do not want a man dedicated to their heart. They want that fool who betrays them; that fool who is anything but faithful to them. They want a man who returns to them weeping crocodile tears after having been caught in bed with their best friend. They want such a fool, because he’s the one they entrust their hearts with. They want to live without a heart, because it is less painful than to live with one.

“Oh yes. She is the one. She is the one who kicks out the last broken piece from the window frame housing the sheet of glass called my heart.

“Oh, but she is the one. The one who sends me rocketing right out of the box into he cruel world.

“Oh, but she is the one.”

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