Static Electricity

“Do you remember Emily? She used to go to college with us, a couple of years older. I think she was doing the biochemistry module,” Alexa spoke rushedly into the phone, almost tripping over her words.

I did remember Emily. For a semester we had gone to the same epidemiology course and she helped me out in the final exam by switching her exam ticket with mine. Apart from that our paths didn't cross much. I went to her graduation, but not specifically for her, it was common for the younger course students to go to the graduations of the older ones. I recall, she had a lot of friends and family come to celebrate with her. I was a bit surprised to see that as she was a relatively quiet girl, just like me. I didn't expect her to have many friends, as I didn't have any.

That day I decided that I won't be going to my graduation. I only had my aunt to invite, but I didn't want to bother her. So I simply went to pick up the paper the day after graduation. It was a small paper stating that I was now an expert of some sort, strangely enough, I didn’t feel any different receiving it.

“Yeah, I do, she was very nice. Haven’t seen her in years, though,” I replied after a short pause. “Wasn’t she dating that professor?”

“She was - professor Hall. They were engaged actually, about to get married. They had bought an apartment in California and were planning to move there. She was on her way there when she crashed and died.”

“What?” I was taken aback.

“I know, it’s horrible. I just met her roommates and they told me about it. She was buried in her wedding dress.”

The last time I saw Emily, it was wintertime, the low temperatures were breaking records from the 80s. I had run out of food, so I put on my jacket and the thickest scarf I could find and popped out to the supermarket. I met her by the veggie stand. I only noticed her at the last moment, if I would have seen her earlier I’m sure I would have hidden away and avoided meeting her. Those days I didn't feel like talking to anyone.

She greeted me with a sincere smile and we did some small talk. I don't think we spoke for more than 2 minutes. As she said goodbye, she lightly touched my shoulder and a small shock of static electricity zapped me. She felt it too, and with a surprised look, she quickly pulled her hand away. Then she laughed saying sorry, I smiled and mumbled something about the cold air and my wool scarf.

I watched her turn and walk away. For a moment she paused at a Christmas tree that was being taken down by the staff. The bulk of decorations had already been removed, and only green string lights remained on the tree. She turned her face to the tree and, with a twinkle, green light caressed her lips. Green light fell in her eyelashes. Green light ruffled her ash-blond hair and played with her earrings. Then a tired-looking man unplugged the lights and started winding them around his arm.

I didn’t have enough money that day to pay for all the products I'd put in my cart. I apologized a hundred times to the cashier and the few people in the line behind me. I asked the cashier to remove the cheap wine and eggs from the check and that did it. I looked around hoping that Emily had not seen me and relieved I found her nowhere in sight.

I hadn’t thought much about that day, except that it was the day when I decided to apply for a job that was outstandingly below my qualifications. I had been trying to get a job for a while then and had received so many rejections that I couldn't keep track of them.

Back then all days were alike, melted together in a shapeless lump of numbness. For years I had felt like I was asleep. Moving through my life on autopilot. I didn't have a career, any money, any real friends. In fact, ‘didn't have’ were the words that best described that time in my life.

Then I got the job I applied for, and up until now, I had thought that's when it all changed for me. The job was straightforward, I excelled at it and was promoted after a year. That summer I met Felipe, and we got married a few years later when I was pregnant with our son. Three years after that our daughter was born. I now watched her crawl all over the living room while on the other end of the line Alexa was going on about how terrible the business with Emily was.

“When did she die?” I interrupted her.

“7 years ago, I think they said, sometime in winter.”

“Slippery roads?”

“No, I don’t think so. They said that a truck driver in the opposite lane had fallen asleep by the steering wheel.”

I hung up the phone and picked up my daughter. I went out in the backyard and watched Felipe blowing soap bubbles and our son trying to catch them. Our daughter was quick to join in.

As I watched them, I sat down on the deck and thought about Emily. I saw her entering the classroom. It wasn't as if her appearance lit up the room instantaneously, more like it warmed it up slowly. I felt her smile, the brightness of it falling on my back as she sat behind me. She couldn’t have been more than 26 years old. All those plans, all that life crushed in a giant fist and like stardust blown into the eyes of her loved ones...

Or were they given to me with a small zap of static electricity on that forlorn winter day?