That Bar at Casablanca

The archeologist was searching for something which was no longer there. He couldn't remember if has been 5 or 7 years ago since he last set foot in Casablanca and the first few days he was in such a daze from walking around the city.

Time has no meaning to him now. He doesn’t even wear a watch anymore, but Casablanca keeps luring him back like a jealous siren and time seems to stand still. He observes while walking that there were many changes that has taken place or maybe it was he who had changed.

He have loved it so fiercely and finds it magical the sights and sounds of Morocco. It left a mark on him that he can't shake it off. It's the same kind of feeling when he was exploring the ‘white city’ of Honduras. His job always takes him to exotic places.

But this is not the Rick’s café that he remembers — -that fusion of resto, bar and café recreating the one in that film made famous by Ingrid Bergman and Humphrey Bogart which was set in the old courtyard style mansion.

This is a different bar and yet it is filled with a Bohemian vibe.

He entered the bar with measured steps like a lion about to jump upon his prey, He was every bit anxious and his face looked haggard. He barely recognized himself anymore…he looks like that character “Jesus” from the Walking Dead T. V series who was sporting a goatee and a long hair.

He fits the part, but he felt more like one of those zombies in the series —-a dead person trying to stay alive or rather trying to find a sense of purpose!

She ‘changed’ him that’s for sure!

Aaaaaah… He shouldn’t be thinking of her!

He came here to drink and to forget. It was a silly though … Did he come here to forget? To forget the pain of knowing that what you wanted the most is something you can’t have!

He ordered his usual drink and notice the bartender was rather young. Back then it was an old Moroccan that goes by the name of Amid. He didn’t bother to inquire about Amid…he just presumed the old timer must be dead now. He was not yet warming up his seat when a man sat next to him and the strong smell of this stranger's cologne didn’t escape his nostrils. He glanced at him with a bored expression.

There was something familiar about the new guy seated next to him.

This newcomer didn’t bother to glance back, but ordered the same drink he was having and was now staring at this big vintage poster of Humphrey Bogart that filled up the whole wall behind where the bartender stood.

Obviously…the bar owner is a big fan as an assorted of black and white photographs of Bogart fills up the spaces like a decorative altar of sorts. A few minutes have passed by when this stranger speaks up.

“It’s my first time here in Morocco!”

“Fuck yah!’’ He cursed to himself silently. He now remembers who is this guy seating next to him, wearing a blue baseball cap, black t-shirt with a checkered desert storm liked scarf wrapped around his neck. He looked every inch like a GQ model who just walks out from a photo shoot!

“It's not hard tracking you down!’ he continued. His eyes fixed on good ole’ Bogart. He kept his mouth shut and drank some more and ordered another round.

He observes him at the corner of his eye. Boyish looking check. Athletic Body check. A perfect combination to make the women inside the bar do a double take. Nothing compared to his washed- up middle age look — - plain v-neck t-shirt, hiking boots, and old khaki cargo pants.

He wondered if this ‘sonafabitch’ is simply here to ‘torture’ him with small talk. The last time he saw him was…… He didn’t want to remember, but the memories came

It was years ago when he visited Isabel’s London flat. The first thing that caught his eye where those framed photographs on top of her bookshelves — mostly it was group photos and he noticed in every group photo there was this guy. He was always next to Isabel, always with a happy grin. The way he would casually put his arm around Isabel’s shoulders, an intimacy that would make him feel jealous, but he doesn’t feel anything at that time…until now.

“I don’t understand what she ‘sees’ in you…” He paused, ….”Jonathan!”

There! The invisible glass broke and Isabel indeed have mentioned him to…to….to Michael!

He said it forcefully in his mind…this guy whose sudden intrusion to what's supposed to be a night of pleasurable drinking and solitude.

“She talks about you sometimes!”Michael added still not looking at him.

“Shit! What do you want from me?!” He asked.

The ‘lucky sonafabitch’ who was always ahead of him and whom Isabel adored. His life was never the same again! Although he was in denial for a long time. She disrupted his world without warning! He was indifferent, restless and probably that was the same traits that attracted her to him!

Suddenly Michael tore his eyes away from the vintage Bogart poster and faced him with a hint of weary frustration and sadness.

“This place is special for both of you…isn’t it” He said coolly with a forced smile.

Jonathan made a sharp intake of breath. It was indeed so special as Isabel was his salvation and his own version of what paradise looks like!

He gestured for the bartender to pour both of them another drink.

Neither one of them spoke for a while as if locked into a silent duel. What was evident the look of longing and loss have cast a shadowy imprint inside this bar, the noise, the crowd were like suspended animation.

If only Isabel could see this….both of them in the same place; she would definitely find this whole scene amusing. But she kept them apart for so long…only to end up with both of them coming in full circle and the realization that she will never be coming back to any one of them.