Fancy Meeting You Here

I knew that I should I should have stayed on board the ship. I just was feeling horrible after the midnight buffet. It was just too much – doing things I never do; eating to indulgence. What a waste! Most of it did not stay down anyway. Last night’s queasy restlessness left me tired and fragile.

Our conversation didn’t help either. Why is it that when classmates get together we still resurrect the past? Old hurts and pains; old disappointments - and I always go back to seventh grade, when I discovered I was poor in the worse of ways. I keep saying I’m going to stop discussing it, but I when others share their wounds, I decide to bleed also. I always feel bad after. So, this was a horrible combination. I couldn’t stomach any of it.

I really didn’t think I would make it to this small island tour. I distinctly remember telling everyone to go on without me. I felt like I was all out of my head with nausea and fever. But no one would take no for an answer, insisting that the fresh air would be restorative. I lost that argument the same way I lost the one to come on this cruise to begin with. Besides, I felt it would have taken more strength to argue than to just get up, wash it all off, get dressed and come out.

So that’s exactly what I did.

Leaving the larger ship for a smaller boat actually did make it better. I could feel the warm salty air all round me, whose breeze complemented the sun’s hot rays. The water’s buoyancy was soothing as well, rocking gently as it glided forward. It was so relaxing that I began to feel a bit sleepy. But I kept telling myself, “Stay awake. This is going to be a great experience.”

As we got off on the postcard beautiful island paradise, I felt refreshed, but still a bit weak. I kept it to myself, though, and decided to forge on. Everyone was so caught up the picture-perfect scenery that they didn’t notice any way.

Why didn’t I remember that it was a walking tour?

We were encouraged to observe and investigate all of the flowers and foliage. I drew strength from the colors and smells, which became more and more fragrant and lovely, pulling me further down the trail.

I felt like I walked for several minutes until I looked up - quite disoriented. I didn’t see the group, and no one answered when I called out.

Was I miffed! Ooh, this group!

How could this have happened? Didn’t anyone miss me? They should have left me where I was on the ship. Even better - they should have left me home; or, rather, I should have followed my instincts and just said, “No, I am not going.”

Who was I kidding? I know I wanted to get out, and I needed to get out.

Looking back, the trail was unfamiliar as I walked and it actually was obstructed by bushes.

I heard some noise in the opposite direction. So, I yelled out. “Help. I’m lost! Is anybody there?”

A familiar voice said, “I’m over here.”

I was a bit confused because it sounded like child’s voice, and there were no children on our trip. I thought, “Oh, well, it may be an island girl, and she may be able to help me find my group or a responsible adult.” Nothing was making sense anyway.

“Yes, right here!” she called out again.

“My goodness,” I thought, “I knew that voice; but, from where?”

Peeling back the bushes, I glanced through and saw a skinny little brown girl with short plaits and a big smile. She was wearing a pretty pink dress with a ribbon to match, white socks, and black patent leather shoes.

I thought, “The children on this island dress so much like I used to when I was young.”

“Hello,” I said, “Will you help me, please?”

“I will,” she replied.

I said, “I think I’m lost.”

“No problem,” she responded, taking my hand and walking me towards two desks in a clearing.

Confused, I resisted, saying, “No, I’ve got to leave. I’ve got to get back to the group.”

Gently, she answered, “No, you’ve got to sit. You’ve got to get back to yourself.”

That response made me want to snatch my hand away and run. But, surprisingly, I felt comforted. She had a familiarity that settled my soul.

We sat down at the desks.

“Who are you?” I asked. “I feel like I should know you.”

“You should. I know you,” She said warmly and confidently.”

“But, how could you? I’ve never been here before!” I snapped, “And I need to leave now. Something isn’t right.”

She begged, “Please trust me for just few minutes. I mean you no harm. Just listen, and I’ll help you find your way back.”

“Go ahead… a few minutes, and then I’m out,”

I stared at her face, peering deeply into her brown eyes.

“I want to free you so you can free me. You’ve done so many wonderful things in your life. But you keep going back to a dark place, or a place you’re making dark. You are letting one incident pull us down to a place of shame and despair.”

“What secret could you possibly know about me?” I interrupted. “And where is your family?”

She quietly said, “You promised to listen.” Then she continued, “That teacher had no right to read out your family’s alleged financial affairs in front of the class, saying that you lived in poverty. She was angry that your father would not sell your land to her.”

I dropped my head, looking at the desk. “The desk! I know this desk!” I clutched my head and closed my eyes.

“Before that time, you were a bright student, always on the honor roll, participating in activities and having fun with friends. Then I became despondent, withdrawn, and angry. I wasn’t the same anymore.”

At this point, I wondered who she was talking about me or her. She was switching up on me. But I let her continue.

“None of that was your fault. My father did not want to report his income and my mother’s alone was below the poverty line. How could I be blamed for that? Even so, it shouldn’t have defined us - you - me. Besides, she lost her job for doing something similar to someone else.”

Opening my eyes, I recognized my seventh-grade desk because I stared down at it for what seemed like forever so many years ago. The dried tear stains were still there. Looking up, I recalled my favorite yellow dress, with me inside seventh grade me.

I stood up and approached her. Then I kneeled before her and hugged her tightly, crying and laughing at the same time.

She laughed as well.

“Please, let us be free of this.”

“I promise you I will.” I answered.

“You will what?” The tour guide said.

“Where did you come from?” I asked totally confused.

“Well, you wandered off somewhere and we couldn’t find you. We were just about to call for the police. A girl in a yellow dress told us where you were. Anyway, It’s time to go back to the ship.”

As we rode back on the boat, it seemed rockier that when we came to the island. It began to really shake.

“Hey, wake up!” my friends screamed. “You missed a beautiful island tour!”

“You mean I didn’t…?”

There I was in my pajamas. I guess I was sicker than I thought. I pulled the covers back over my head.

Then they shook me again.

“Hey,” my sister said, “Wake up. You’re going to miss the cruise if you don’t get cracking! By the way, have a great time and please don’t bring up that seventh-grade story again.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” I laughed, “No more - I am free from that!”