Beyond My Last Heartbeat

From an early age, we're taught and shown the versatility of the color green. In school, your art teacher will teach you that you'll get green paint if you mix yellow and blue paint. In botany class, you're taught how photosynthesis helps make our plants, trees, and grass, beautiful variations of the color green. Durning drivers education, you're oriented that the red light means stop, yellow light means slow down, and green light means go. Green is also the color of envy, but what do you do when green suddenly means "the end"?

I've been sitting here listening to the steady beep of my heart monitor for what feels like days, but it has only been minutes. With each green blimp of my heartbeat, I imagine the color getting lighter and lighter. You see, I'm dying. Well, at least the doctors have just informed my family. According to them, I only have days to live. I can hear them all crying now, and the thought of them hurting makes me sad but don't feel bad for me. I'm ok with moving on. I've had a beautifully blessed life. I was born June 12th, 1936, raised in Harlem, New York City, to 2 loving parents (a jazz musician and opera singer). I lived in the same brownstone I do now, with my parents and my paternal grandparents, 3 older sisters, and a whole host of family and friends who used our home as their own private Grand Central Station.

After the war, as teenagers, our parents took us on family vacations overseas, where we got to see the 4 of the 7 wonders of the world while leaving the racist turmoil of America behind. As a young adult, I was educated at the most prestigious HBCU for women in the south, where I learned the truth about racism in America and my CHOOSEN place within it as a Black Woman. I had a great career as a science teacher, teaching in the same neighborhood I was raised in. Gave birth to 6 extraordinarily talented and unique human beings, all of whom couldn't make me more proud if they tried. After my 80 plus years, I am filled with precious memories of my parents, siblings, family, children, students, vacations, etc. Yet the only person who fills my thoughts at this moment. Is the same person who has held my heart for over 60 years now. All I can think about is him, and how his love has sustained me from the first moment we meet back in that old smokey teacher's lounge on my first day of teaching in the fall of 1960.

***

"Well, hello, Mr. Washington, it's been a long time. Welcome back." My beautiful best friend and the home economics teacher at my new school, Ms. Laura Sims, coquettishly ask the tall, muscular man that just walked into the teacher's lounge. As she languidly walks over to the coffee pot, he was standing in front of sans coffee cup; I sit there curious about what was it about this man that made Laura turn on her hot pot. I couldn't get a good look at his face because of the tilt of his hat and the fact that his head was down, so I couldn't say it was because he was so handsome, but he sure did smell like good. His scent seemed to have permeated the room as soon as he walked in, turning Laura into a sex kitten and making my head spin.

"Thank you, Ms. Sims. It's good to be back." Mr. Washington absently answered back as he looked through the mail in his hand and sits down on the lounges couch, never once looking at Laura or anyone else in the room for that matter.

"Um, how was your summer?" Laura asks Mr. Aromatic (that's his new name), leaning up against the couch's arm, so close that he had to move over to give her room. To me, it was clear, but Laura seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that he didn't want to talk.

"It was good, and yours?" Mr. Sauve again absently answers her as he peruses a newspaper that seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

"Um, it was great." Laura shyly says, finally catching on to his mood. "Um, have you meet the new Science teacher?" she asks, walking back over to the table we were sitting at before Mr. Smells So Good came in.

"No." Mr. Sniff Test dryly says, ruffling up the paper opening it up entirely, and to my chagrin, obscuring his face.

"Well, in that case, may I introduce you to Ella Lewis, our new Science teacher," Laura says as she prompts me to stand and walk over to Mr., I Have No Business Smelling This Good Around Children to shake his hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Sm... I mean, Mr. Washington?" I say shakily, holding out my clammy hand for him to shake. I stand there for about 30 seconds with my hand out, waiting on his response. Sensing there wasn't one coming, I turn to walk back over to the table and the rest of my favorite breakfast, coffee cake, when I hear the paper rustle and him clear his throat.

Turning back around, he's standing right behind me with his hand outstretched. That's when I got my first glimpse of his face, and just like that, I was in love.

"It's nice to meet you as well, Ms. Lewis." He says in a deep throaty voice, and I noticed it didn't sound as monotone as when he spoke to Laura a moment ago. I don't know why but that gave me a visceral sense of satisfaction. Taking my now limp right hand, he wraps both of his much larger ones around it as I stood there grounded in my spot, not blinking, speaking, or even breathing.

As a child, I didn't believe in fairy tales or love at first sight, as my sisters did. I was a very pragmatic child. If I couldn't touch it or see it under a microscope, it didn't exist. I don't know if it came from being raised by my loving yet neurotic musician parents or if that was just how I was born. It just was. Which suited me well as a scientist. So when I was presented with this newfound feeling of being dumbstruck, I was quite, well, dumb. I literally couldn't speak.

"Um, well, since all of the introductions are done. How about we make our way to our rooms. The children will be here soon." Laura says, thankfully breaking the spell, "Ella, would you like me to show you to your room?"

"No, thank you. I'm not thirsty." I stupidly say as I stare into Mr. Sexy As All Good Out eyes. I guess the spell wasn't broken after all because we both stood there for at least a minute, just holding hands before he spoke.

"If you don't mind Ms. Sims, I'll show Ella, I mean Ms. Lewis, to her room." Mr. My Soon To Be Husband says as he takes me by the elbow and escorts me out of the room, leaving all of my things sitting on the desk and Laura and the other 3 staff members standing there with their mouths agape.

"So what do you teach, Mr. Washington?" I ask as we walk hand in hand down the hallway. Rational thought tells me I should feel at least self-conscious, if not utterly embarrassed, about holding hands with a strange man while walking down the halls of the institution where we both taught, but nope, not an ounce of anything but pure giddiness was felt by me.

"First off, let's use first names." He says, stopping for a moment to look me in the eyes. Nodding my head, he continues walking and talking. "Ok great, well, Ella, my full name is General Lee..."

"You're joking, right?" I blurt out, inadvertently cutting him off. "Sorry, please continue," I say, covering my mouth with my free hand, trying hard to stifle the laugh that wants to bubble up out of my throat at the thought of his full name, General Lee Washington. What were his parents thinking?

"No, it's ok," he says, with a slight chuckle. "Believe me, once I learned who General Lee was, I asked my parents what in the world were they thinking, and my father simply said, "Well, that's my name, son, you're named after me." I was so confused because I thought his name was just Lee. That's what everyone called him, including his parents. I guess they hated his name too," He says, shaking his head as we stop in front of the door labeled Science Lab. "Here we are." He says with a flourish.

Of course, I knew my way to my new classroom. I'd had a school tour 2 weeks prior and have spent the last 3 days decorating the room, so a guide was unnecessary, but I didn't want our time together to end. So I stall for time. "Oh my goodness, that is too funny. I thought my mother's name was mommy until I was 7," I admit with a laugh. "everyone, including my dad, would refer to her as mommy. The subject of her real name never came up until one day in school, we were learning about proper names and nouns. Raising my hand, I asked my teacher if everyone had a first name, and she, of course, said yes. Well, imagine my surprise to find out that my mother had a name other than mommy. So after school, I rushed home in shock, barged into a music lesson she was giving, and demanded to know her name. She kicked me out," I say, laughing in unison with him at my memory. "It's Ceila, by the way,"

"What's Celia." He asks, blinking at me in confusion.

"My mother's name," I say with a chuckle.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I got distracted." He says, dropping my hand.

Scanning the hall, I see we're still the only ones in it, but I just shrug my shoulders and say, "That's ok." even though I felt like I just lost my best friend when he let go of my hand. "So, now that I know your unfortunate full name, are you going to answer my question?"

"Yes, but before I do, will you answer a question?" He asks quickly because children were starting to filter into the hallways.

"Yes," I say, staring up at him in anticipation.

"Ella, will you go out to dinner with me?" He quietly says as a student walks past us.

"Yes, GL," I teasingly say.

"For the rest of our lives?" He nervously says.

"Yes, GL," I wholeheartedly say. "Now, what do you teach, you impulsive fool," I say with a grin so big my face felt like it would crack.

"I don't teach. I'm the principal, but not for long." and with that, he walked away, leaving me dumbfounded once again.

***

"Wake up, Ms. Lewis" I hear a familiar voice whisper in my ear, but no one has called me Ms. Lewis in over 60 years. I wonder who it could be, but I'm so tired. I just want to sleep. "Wake up," they say again. I can feel their touch on my face. I think I know that touch, but my brain is in a fog. "I guess if you're not going to wake up, I'll have to eat this whole coffee cake by myself," They say, teasing me. I no longer hear the beep of the heart monitor. I wonder if I'm home because the room smells so familiar. Slowly opening my eyes, I see the face I could draw from memory. "GL," I say in a whisper.

"Hello, my Ella, I've missed you." He says, looking at me the same way he did that first day over 60 years ago. I'm in heaven.