Him

Him. An unsuspecting commuter on an A-train... he sits gazing out the window, immersed in the view, seeing beyond a world of art which whizzes by as the landscape undulates, ebbs and flows. There is a surreal, dreamlike and beautiful view of nature beyond the window, where bamboo stalks grow impossibly tall, reaching towards a sky painted in the swirling, vibrant colors of a Baroque masterpiece. The interior of the train is dimly lit, casting long shadows. The peace it exudes evokes a painterly illustration with dramatic bright and dark lighting filled with rich textures.

I sit watching him watch the view from a few seats down. He does not notice me. He never sees his stalker who enters when he does, and exits as he hurries home every evening. Good...I have no wish for him to become aware that I constantly intrude upon his private solace and fortress of solitude.

Still, I wonder what goes on in his mind, this dapper stranger staring into a mirror which I cannot fathom or imagine.

It has been four months since I noticed him and started this crazy ritual of admiring, watching and, I am sure, illegally following a stranger. A stranger who is blissfully unaware of my presence, my dangerous pursuit. Somehow, in my mind's eye, this adds mystery and romance to this one-sided love affair. Well, more like lust, intrigue and an unhealthy pastime, labeled love in my misplaced mind.

I never see him with anyone. Never. Not even when he diverts to the supermarket, the barber shop, or a random corner store. Which is a bit strange for a well put together fella like himself. But he goes to and from work. So hopefully he is not a criminal, murderer or serial killer. Though he could be all of the above, innocent though he may appear.

So here we are on day 124, as he steps off the train late evening and heads home. My apartment is around the block from his - no, I did not move to be closer to him. I have lived there for two years...that is how I came to notice him when taking the same train.

I long ago found out where he works. It is but a brisk walk from my job in the busy downtown district. On certain days, when time limits me, or I just feel the need, I grab a cab to the cafe equidistance to him and myself.

My job finishes an hour before his and I would wait in the cafe until he emerged. They must wonder if I am crazy to be in there every single day. I order a light meal and study while I wait, so maybe that has saved me from closer scrutiny by the owner.

Once in a while, on random days, he is not at work. But he emerges in a day or two and everything is ok again. Humans do need a day off every now and then.

We take the train ride to go back home. I would stand and watch him until he turns the corner to his condo, then continue home.

But today, something is not quite right. He disappeared before I exited the train. Where could he be? I looked and looked - nothing. Puzzled and frustrated, I finally gave up and started home.

I did not see him again for two whole weeks. I had no choice but to behave and go about my business as I should have been doing all along. But...

I began to notice a strange individual following me. Never approaching too close, but very unnerving and unsettling.

Had my strange young man noticed me stalking him after all. Now, I am not at all an unattractive young woman. As a matter of fact, I am quite comely. Maybe it was the thrill of the hunt that made me do such a crazy thing.

Yet, it was not him following me. It was a total stranger. I took a few days off from my job. I was getting really uncomfortable and scared.

Then it dawned on me that, if my stranger had noticed me following him all these months, he must have felt some of this unwelcome discomfort which I was now feeling. Serves me right. The stalker becomes the 'stalkee'.

Had he reported me to the police? I was frantic with worry.

By Friday, I was barely leaving the house. I had hurried to the grocery store and then shut myself in the apartment.

The knock at the door almost gave me a heart attack. It scared me so much that I jumped from the chair screeching, almost falling over. I was not opening that door at all. I never had visitors - I kept pretty much to myself.

So, who was knocking?

But, the knock ceased and an envelope was pushed gently under my door.

I waited a full ten minutes after the footsteps receded. I grabbed the envelope, expecting a summons or whatever police served to people to go to court for stalking.

It was an invitation. What the....!

"Meet me at 'Cafe Mkahawa A'mour' at 6pm. Directions included. Dakarai".

Was Dakarai a drink, it sounded delicious. Or was that his name. Whichever it was, I liked the sound of it.

Who was Dakarai anyway. Was he my stalker. Or....could it be.

I got there long before 6pm. The cafe had a lovely background painted in similar sketches as the view out the train window. Was this a coincidence. I was now more than intrigued.

I had dressed meticulously well. A girl can hope. Right.

If I were being arrested, at least I would look great in my mugshot.

I sat staring at the door. But the voice came from behind me.

"Hello, I am Dakarai. It is great to finally meet you face to face".

His accent was clearly of an African intonation...ah, it was Dakarai of the train and my dream.

After the initial shock and exhaled relief, he took my proffered hand...I read somewhere that it is quite decorous and proper for the woman to offer her hand, not for the gentleman to first do so. But who cares, I was so pleased and eager to see where this was going.

"Marya...I am so relieved and happy to see you are ok".

HE HAD BOUGHT THE CAFE...He had bought the cafe...done up the walls in the color scheme of the view from our train. Was romance in the air. He explains that this is the reason for his inexplicable absence....and that he had had his brother, the P.I. look out for me all this time. So sorry to have scared me - that was not his intent. Though it serves me right, I laughed. No good intentioned deed goes unpunished.

"But how do you know that I am not just a crazy lady following you around".

"Come on now, I had you checked out long ago, after you started your hunt. I hope you won't hold it against me. I am African, I love a good hunt. I had to be sure of who you were".

"Now it is my turn to check you out".

"Haven't you been doing that all along".

We both laughed. Now we both get to stalk each other to and from the cafe.

Was our happily ever after written in the book of destinies.