His question felt rather strange. Of course I knew him. I
had loved him once, ten years ago to be exact. I was eighteen back then and today standing in
front of him was strange. “I’m sorry” he
said again looking deep in my eyes as if he could see right through me “Do I
know you?” He knew me and I knew him. He had been coming to this library for
the past two weeks at noon for the past two weeks and I had seen him gaze at me
for hours although I pretended not to notice. I had seen him struggle everyday
to remember why he felt he knew the nerdy librarian sitting behind the computer
and today he had walked up to me and finally asked. I looked at him with a
tender smile “me?” I asked, looking behind my chair to confirm, but I knew he
was talking to me. “Yes you miss” he said. For a moment I felt a bit annoyed
that he had addressed called me miss, although it is quite true that I’m not married. I
wondered how he guessed it. It suddenly occurred to me that he had been the only
person who had been able to read through me. He only had been able to see the
tears behind my brilliant smile. Perhaps he could see right through me, perhaps
he could see all the lonely tears that I hide so much. Maybe that tragic
accident had not taken that ability from him. Maybe it really had not erased
all of his past from his mind as the newspapers and television had reported. I
remember when I saw this on front cover of daily news; it had been “Ryan
McCarthy-sport beast loses his memory after tragic accident”. I had wondered if
he would remember me and that one year when he meant everything to me. “I’m
sorry sir, I have to attend to the group of students standing in line” I don’t think
he had noticed the queue forming behind him. “What time is your lunch break?
Can I talk to you then?” he asked pleadingly. I smiled and nodded and watched
him return to the chair and looked at me as I shifted my attention back to the
students who were waiting patiently.
I watched as the clock slowly approached my lunch hour and
still he was looking at me. I imagined thousands and thousands puzzle pieces in
his mind that didn’t seem to make any sense.
I could only imagine waking up and not knowing who I had been. I looked
at him, his gaze didn’t leave me and he never once looked like he was losing
his patience. He just sat there looking; just starring, like he was holding a
puzzle piece but didn’t know where it fit in. one o clock, I saw the time on my
wrist watch but I felt my legs stiffen, my feet cold with fear. Not the kind of
fear one would feel at gun point, the kind of fear that one feels before a
test, before an exam. He walked up to me “it’s your lunch hour, I know. I’ve
been studying you for the last two weeks. “I smiled at him and made the library
lunch announcement. “Attention all library users, the library is now closed
until 2pm. You are all requested to leave the premises” it was odd that the
library had to close, but they could only afford to employ one librarian when
they opened this library three months ago and I had been lucky to be chosen. Everyone walked out of the library and i
closed the door behind them. Now they were alone and i felt the fear intensify.
He didn’t scare me, rather he made me nervous.
we sat down. “Do you know me?” he asked. “Of course I know
you. Who doesn’t? You are Ryan
McCarthy”. He smiled realising that it had been a silly thing to ask although
he didn’t quite remember how big of a sports star he was. “You are teasing me”
he giggled. “Do I know you?” his expression now serious. I hesitated a bit,
looked down for a while and nodded. “Yes, you know me Ray” I said calling like
I used to ten years ago with hope to trigger memory. “Ray “he repeated after
me, and then his eyes lit up as if he got a glimpse of the past. He looked deep
in my eyes. “Ray” he repeated again and again. “Tiffany” he said my name at
last. I couldn’t help but smile, blush. “Tiffany Hamilton” he said looking more
excited. “Nerdy Tiff, book freak” he
said like a child. “Hey!” I laughed. “You don’t have to remember that”. We
spoke for a while. He asked me questions about myself, I also did and he seemed
to remember more and more details of his life although a big chunk of it still
lingered in memory. I did not tell him how we used to be in love and I don’t
think he remembered it. It hurt me quite a bit, but I wanted him to remember it
himself. If that year had been as great for him as it was for him, he’d surely
remember I told myself. He looked at me again “but it’s deeper than that isn’t
it? “He asked “Don’t tell me, I’ll remember, maybe not today, but I will.”
He didn’t remember that day or the day after that when he
brought me lunch or the weekend after that when we went out for movies. He just
didn’t remember. I didn’t complain though, I loved his company and we were fast
becoming friends. Ryan came by the library a lot. We would sit and talk during
my breaks and he would come to my place and we would sit and talk for hours. Sometimes
when conversations became intense, I thought he’d remember, but he didn’t.
Sometimes I’d see him studying me and I’d think he’d remember, but he didn’t. Soon
I gave up on him remembering and just enjoyed the company of the man who had
fast become my best friend. “You are my best friend” he said to me one day over
a game of truth or dare and I smiled at him. “You are mine too” I replied and
we both smiled.
One Sunday night he knocked on my door, about eight months since he asked me if I knew him. I was quite surprised to see him. He usually called before he came over. "hi Ray" I smiled, he smiled too and came in. we sat and spoke for a while and then he said something that caught me off-guard. "how can a woman like you still be single Tiff?" he asked me sounding a bit serious. "heartbreak can deprive a woman of the ability to love" I said sounding a bit sad. " You love me, don't you Tiff? As a friend, I mean, you love me" he said smiling at her. "of course I do, but its the only way I can love" I said. My answer didn't quite satisfy him an I could see it in his eyes. We spoke until late, until he decided he had to go. I gave him a hug at the door. "Its deeper than this Tiff, and I'll remember" he said that and left. H didn't remember, not that night, not the following month, or in the following six months. I had stopped hoping and I thought he had stopped remembering until one day before he left the library. he walked up to me after having sat and looked at me for three hours. "July the 2nd" he had said this and left. I was left stunned for a while. "July the 2nd" I had repeated after he left. Did I know this day? of course I did. We had met on July the 2nd, eleven years ago and separated a year later when he got a scholarship to pursue his career in sport in Germany. I was happy for him, and I wanted him to take the opportunity and he did. Years later he was a sportsman, a big one and I was where I had to be. I was a librarian with eight published novels and 26 short stories. I loved my job, being around books inspired me. That night he knocked on my door. " I remember" he said. "I remember that year Tiff." he smiled and kissed me. "The deep feeling, I know what it is. It's love. I remember how we danced next to the lake back in Florida. I remember the games we used to play and the love in your eyes. we were different, different but in love" he said this and he hugged me tight. "Now I know why a woman like you is still alone, she is a waiting for a man like me to remember" I smiled. I loved him. "Don't deny it Tiff, I still see the love in your eyes and its beautiful, its intense. its the same love I saw when we danced next to the lake" I hugged him, This was the start of beautiful story. Every year on the 2nd of July we talk about our beautiful love story, about our year in Florida, our time apart and when he remembered, when he assembled the scattered puzzle pieces of his past.
