Call me crazy. Call me a hopeless romantic.

One blissful morning, I woke up and decided that I believed in astrology. I read that a Scorpio was to be my soul mate. So I set off that day looking for my one true love.

The quietness of the morning was stirring. The birds were chirping outside the opened window and morning light streamed through. I yawned and looked at my clock, the hand read 9AM. I was allowed to do that. It was a vacation.

I got off the bed, left it a mess and went for a cold shower. The floor was warm as I stepped in, quickly avoiding the mirror. The stream of water chilled my face and shocked my body fully awake. Before I knew it, the cold seeped through my skin and I welcomed it like an old friend.

I stepped out of the shower still wet and walked toward the closet, completely aware of the open window. I dressed myself quickly, mindlessly. The comb on my desk to the right did not bother me. As I went for the door, a sudden thought came. My watch. It was the only thing I needed. Vacation really has an effect on time. I found it amongst the mess that was the floor, beneath some old lame poetries I had written. The watch read 9.30AM.

I stepped onto the quiet hallway and down the stairs. A few paintings hung on the wall down the steps. A random lady with her child greeted. An old man with a devil’s pitchfork snarled and a mother smile kindly at the last steps.

“Mom?” I called down the hall. I could smell the eggs and bacon waiting. I could picture the coffee brewing and the cheese melting.

“In the kitchen!” my mom called.

The kitchen was at the back of the house, which opened onto the backyard. The smell grew stronger as I walked toward it. I saw my mom outside struggling with a bunch of plates, cutlery and silverware, preparing the table for two. She was wearing yesterday’s clothes, a simple dress of green with a ribbon tied to the side. Over it was a long dirty apron, with some old burn spots and a fresh new one.

From the old prepping table, I took the pot of coffee and sugar outside and lay it down between the plates. To our left the sun was glowing softly kissing us with warmth. The table needed no flowers because it was surrounded by it. Lilies, roses, all the cliché stuffs. Near our seat, by the kitchen window was a row of daisies, red yellow, orange, pink. I sat down and looked at it for a moment.

“I like the whites, mom. Why don’t we get some of those?” I turned and smiled at her.

“Well, I supposed you can eat up and go to Mary to get some of them.”

“Never mind, mom. I remembered I had something to do.”

“You have something to do. You?” Mom couldn’t hide her surprise and grin widely. Her teeth were perfectly white. She was a woman in her prime, a renounced but reclusive writer. Sophia Amber, as the news put it, is both a beauty of words and a beauty to the eyes. Although I found it amusing, I could see why. Her chin came to an ample point, her face was sharp but not bony. Her eyes were blue, matching the sky. Her lips locked in a permanent smile and her hair hung loose down to her waist.

I straighten my posture. “Are you surprised, mom?”

“No, no. By all means, go out and have fun. I was worried you wouldn’t leave your room at all.”

Except, I wasn’t going to have fun. I had a goal. I was going to look for love.

            We ate quietly for a long while. Between ourselves, the real conversation was spoken only by the tiny splashes as the coffee hit the cups, the crunch of toasts and my loud slurps.

            After the breakfast, we cleaned up silently with learnt habitual efficiency. I took care of the dishes while she cleaned the table and took out the garbage. When I was done, I realized I was tired and wanted to lie down. My watch read 10.30AM.

            We stayed on the porch for a while, burying ourselves in books. My mom reclined on a folding chair with her knees up to her chest. I was on the floor leaning against it, while the screw that kept the chair in place prodded at my side.

            I got up suddenly, startling my mom who was trying to reach for the apple juice by her side. The glass toppled and the juice spilled on the floor. The sudden sweet scent mingled in the air around us.

            “Sorry, mom. I have to go. Love you,” I said, running down the few steps. My mom said something in reply, but I didn’t hear it. I was running, running far, running away. The wind wheezed past my ears, a car honk nearby, but I didn’t care. A shop’s bell chimed. A woman in blurry red dress yelled something. I didn’t care. I turned at the corner and ran up the small bridge ahead. The stream below was slow-moving, there were white daisy near the bank, but I didn’t care. I was down on the other side in a second. I ran and ran. It was a beautiful time. The birds were watching, the houses loomed on each side. The leaves on the trees swayed a little, the over-sized shirt inflated and tried to pull me back, but I ran forward. I was chasing it. I was chasing love.

            I stopped at the corner of the street gasping for air, breathing as if I had been under water for a long time. The street was empty, a few cars parked nearly out of sight, an old stray dog trotted cheerfully down the street wagging its tail at nothing. There was a smaller corner book shop where I was standing with a few customers, but that was all. A girl came out of nowhere and stepped into the shop. the bell chimed just like it did in the other one. Was it a few minutes ago? Was it seconds ago? I looked at my watch. It was a few minutes after 12.

            I ducked into the shop, cringing as the bell chimed again. The man behind the counter smile a robotic smile and carried on with his magazine. The girl in the front was wearing revealing clothes. I walked past the reference section toward the fiction. Two customers were whispering quietly behind a row of shelves on my left. In front of me stood the girl I saw from outside, reading a thick volume. From where I stood, I couldn’t see the tittle. She was wearing a short jean and a pair of blue sandal. She wore her hair in a bun and secure them with a pin with some sort of butterfly on top peaking out. She looked slightly younger than me, her face solemn, her eyes lighted up as it moved along the page.

            She didn’t notice me as I walked up to her. “Hello.”

            She turns abruptly and frowned at me. “Hi, can I help you?”

            “No. Well… actually, you can. I am looking for a Scorpio. Are you one?”

            She giggled. “Is that your usual line? Are you going to say something cheesy if I said I’m not?”

            “No, no. I would turn my back at you and walk away. I promise.” I said promptly.

            “Alright, as a matter of fact, I am.” For some reasons, she laughed even more.

            “You are!?” I was delighted. Perhaps it was destiny, perhaps luck, but either way, I’ll take it.

            I put a foot backward and extended my hand as if asking her to dance. “Will you be my soul mate for a day, my lady?”

            She bursted out laughing. The store owner came down in seconds and hushed us. She was still giggling when he left. “You don’t even know my name.”

            “And I don’t want to know. I want to deserve it.” 

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            “Then I should extend you the same curtesy.”

            “As you wish, my lady.” She took my hand and we walked out of the shop, leaving the novel on the shelf with cookbook and other stuffs.

            She stopped and took her hand from mine after we were a bit far from the bookstore. Looking at me curiously, she said “This has never happened to me before.”

            I thought for a second. “I’m sure it hasn’t” I tried to laugh but it came out a coughing fit, which stretched for a full minute. After, I tried to feint laughter, but something akin to pity was written all over her face.

            “Are you okay? Do you want me to call someone?” she said, sounding worried.

            “I am fine, but please, I’d like to make a call.”

            She fished out her phone and handed it to me. I started dialling in my mom’s number, letting the faint clicks filling the silence. The phone buzzed once. Twice, then three times. There was a beep, then a second later a voice on the other line answered.

            “Mom, it’s me.”

            “Oh! Where are you? Are you in trouble?” She sounded worried.

            “I’m fine. I think I’ll be home late. Don’t wait for me. Don’t worry, I have my watch with me” I said through the phone, glancing at the girl. She was smiled back a little. “I met someone, I think I’m going to have a picnic, now.” I added quickly.

            Beside me, the girl was trying to conceal her giggle.

            After a short while, I heard a sigh and my mom said “Be careful, though. Call me if you need help.”

            “I know. Bye, mom-”

            “Tell your friend I said hi. Bye, love you.”

            I murmured back and ended the call. Turning back to the girl, I grinned widely and said, “Do you know a store nearby where we can get a sandwich and some orange juice?”

            “Right this, my boy.” She replied and we danced down the street, waltzing among cars and lampposts, the empty street was our stage and the sun above was our guest of honour.

            I waited outside as she went in and got some tuna sandwiches, a cotton of orange juice and two red plastic cups. I helped her carry our lunch and up the street we went, like friends who had known each other for years. I was the crazy person and she was playing along.

            We got off the street near the bridge I’d ran across, and slowly strolled along the downward slope of the stream. Our feet crunched and ruffled the grass. A little sweat rolled down my chin. But finally, we were there. The stream sparkled. The white daisy grew happily near the water busking in sunlight.

            I helped her down carefully and lied down on the grass. Without a word, we munched on our sandwich and drank the juice until it spilled from our mouth. We laughed and at some point, I thought she was humming a tone. At last, we grew quiet and she turned to me.

            “If this gets back to my parents, I am so in trouble. Dead trouble. If I don’t know your name by the end of… whatever this is, they’re going to think I’m crazy, which wouldn’t come as a surprise I guess”

            “Well, that makes the two of us. Can I tell you a secret? I don’t do this often. This dating or whatever it is you want to call it. How do we proceed? Do I ask you what you like?”

            “That’s as good a start as any.” She propped herself up on her elbow and drooped her head lazily, facing the sky. “What do I like… I like turtles, French toast, strawberry yogurt, I like honey and iced coffee. I love books, romantic stories, crime and mystery. Little Women, Sherlock Holmes, Jane Eyre. I’m supposed to like school but it’s so boring, so here I am.”

            I smiled at her and heaved in a big breath. The grass smelled like earthy just as the daisy. “My turn then. I like sleeping, I love reading. I write lame poetry and like laughing at myself. I like my coffee sweet and my chocolate bitter. And I love school, so very much.”

            “Hardly believable.” She laughed and put her hand on my shoulder. I nearly shied away from her touch.

            From there, we talked about books, stories we liked. We exchanged quotes, ideas, played with words. Before long, the sun was coming down. The white green field turned yellow, and cars began to move up and down the once lonely street.

            “It’s getting dark, now,” she said, “It’s been fun.”

            “I have an idea,” I said, ignoring the finality of her tone. “Why don’t you sneak out some wine and glasses. We’ll dine here, tonight. C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

            She sighed and let her body sagged a little. “Alright, I will, but promise me you’ll be here. I don’t want to carry out stuffs and come back to nothing.”

            “Promise, milady” And she was gone. For all I knew, she was the one who would be more inclined to run away.

            Still lying on my back, I closed my eyes. I relaxed and exhaustion coursed through my body. Before I knew it, I was asleep, unaware of the evening until it had passed.

            I woke up to her shinny eyes and her wide grin. She was wiggling the wine bottle and the glasses in front me. “Hello, sleepy head. I thought you were gone, but you’re a man of your word, I’ll give you that.”

            “Thank you,” I said, rubbing my face. Squinting my eyes shut for a second, I stretched and yawned. “Let’s begin, then, my lady.”

            We ate the leftover sandwich and drank the wine. It was sweet on the mouth and sour on the way in. Slowly, we were losing ourselves and the track of time. I knew I have a watch, but I didn’t bother. We talked more and laugh even louder. Behind us to the left, lights shone through the windows of houses, some softly tinted, some purely white.

            The girl was poking me on my shoulders, realizing that I hadn’t been listening to her. She was not angry or disappointed. “I don’t feel very well. Wine doesn’t agree with me. You’ll have to excuse me please. I’ll be back soon though, just going behind those trees”

            I laugh at her running, the sound echoed in the wind. I sat down for moment, lifting one of the wine glasses and broke it on the ground. It gave a low clink. Ahead the moon smiled down on the water.

            I took out two pieces of paper and a pen and began writing.

            Dear my beloved Scorpio,

I woke up this morning and decided to believed in astrology and love. I knew a Scorpio would be my soul mate. I found you. Whatever you are, you are my Scorpio.

You probably noticed it, the pallor on my face. I look tired. I am skinnier than the average person. I am not handsome. I am not the guy you would notice.

You will be shocked or surprised. Please don’t blame me. Please don’t cry for me. Please don’t dream of me. Please don’t love me. I don’t demand love or memory. Please forget me, forgive me. Please think of me as a stranger. When I saw you and you told me that you were a Scorpio, I decided to love you, but I didn’t have to try. Please don’t tell me your name. I don’t deserve to know, but I will tell you mine, because you deserve it and much more. I am William Amber. I am nobody.

            Please bring me to my mom. Don’t call her. Bring me to her. Please do me this favour and give my second letter to her.

            Mommy dearest,

            I love you. I know this is not how you want it to end. I know you wanted more, but I can’t give it to you. I know you look at me with all the love in this world. I know you care for me and worry about me.

            I am not selfish, mom. I am not cruel; I don’t want you to see this. Please know that I am smiling. I will miss our mornings as much as you will. I will miss your smell and smile. Tell everyone I love them, even those I hate.

            I remember your kiss. I remember your hugs and loves. I remember my first books. I remember the first day in school when you were wating by the door. I remember the roses and all the flowers you put in the hospital room to make it better. It was better, mom. I remember this endless vacation of my life. But I don’t want you to be in it.

            I know you’ll dream of me, mom. I know you’ll cry. I know you’ll mourn for me, but please don’t fall because of me. I know you love Paris. I know you want to be with Dad. Fly to Paris and tell him I love him. Love is a feeling I chased today, and I found it, but what I feel for you is much more than these weak words could explain. I didn’t have to find it, it was always there, in your smiles, in your laugh and in your eyes. Please forgive me mom. Please forgive me. If I have a brother, please tell him I love him.

            I will always be with you. I will be in the smile of the moon at night. Smile for me.

            I am your son, for eternity.