I remember reading somewhere that geese mate for life. The honking is their way of encouraging their partner to stay with them, on a flight path to somewhere.

 

September 2, 2009, Concord, MA

I reached down to my desk drawer and pulled out a low-ball glass and a bottle of Lagavulin 16-year single malt. I poured a drink and stared out the window. Sipping the scotch, I couldn’t help but think how absurd my life was, and wondered where it all was heading.

The cool night air seeped into the office through my open window. The sound of geese honking overhead gave the sense that real cold was on the horizon. Their calling is something of a regularity this time of year. Hearing them gave me a sense of nostalgia for better days.

Reaching for the bottle to pour another glass, I bumped the computer mouse, and it relit my hibernating screen. Having only recently joined Facebook, there were several new notifications. I sighed and clicked the icon. Up popped several friend requests from people who all seem to have gone to my high school in New Paltz. I hadn’t spoken to any of them in over 30 years. It had been just as long since I’d even thought about that period of my life.

Scrolling through the list, I accepted one from a guy who was my teammate on the soccer team. He quickly sent a message asking if I still played. I didn’t reply. I accepted another from a girl who was in my AP History class. I chuckled when she sent a long reply detailing everything she’d done in the past three decades. It seemed she still loved history, her own.

Scrolling the invites I noticed one from Ashley, and it grabbed my attention. She was a cheerleader and was best friends with Kai, a girl I dated most of my senior year. I accepted Ashley’s invite, but she didn’t message me.

I didn’t message her either.

Graduating high school for most was an exciting time looking ahead to what the future would bring. For me, it was painful, like shooting whitewater rapids with soaring waves followed by deep waterfall plunges. In the end, my imaginary kayak flipped, leaving me stuck upside down in the water. I slogged out of town that late summer for Ithaca College, and never looked back.

Over the years, a few friends would reach out. A class reunion notice would come and go. That was about it. I completely blocked out thoughts about those years, the people, or the things I did.

I sat savoring the Lagavulin and glanced at the friend requests. Most names I recognized, but none were friends. I leaned back and swirled the scotch as I thought back to the late 1970s. There was no invite from the one person I would have messaged. Silly thinking about it, but Facebook was the reason I thought of her for the first time in decades.

The most brilliant and beautiful woman I ever knew. I thought of her ironic wit, infectious laugh, sexy devil-may-care smile, and spunky, spontaneous, and unquenchable spirit.

I thought of Kai Adams. The one by which all others have been compared.

The one that got away.

 

August 29, 1979, Wednesday, Ithaca College, Ithaca, NY (Thirty Years Earlier)

“Hello,” I asked.

The phone line was crackling, making it hard for me to hear. I was in the common room of my freshman dorm at Ithaca College, where the payphone was located. It was crowded with students swarming all around, chatting in groups, and hanging out. The dorm RA had knocked on my door and said there was a long-distance call for me on the pay phone. He said by the sound of the connection, it seemed like it was a pretty far long-distance call.

After a pause, I finally heard a faint voice coming through.

“Conor? It’s me, Kai. Can you hear me?”

I was dumbstruck and didn’t know what to say. I put a hand over my other ear to block out the noise from the crowded common room. I wished I could crawl into a phone booth, but the payphone was just hanging from the wall. I hugged the side of the phone with my face pointing toward and almost touching the wall to get whatever privacy I could.

The sound of Kai’s voice sent shockwaves coursing through me, and my hand was actually trembling holding the phone. She was literally the very last person I thought would be calling me. I was shocked and had trouble putting two words together.

“Kai? Kai, is, is that you? Uh, wow, um, is everything O.K.? Man, how did you find me?”

I last spoke to Kai in June when I bumped into her at a high school graduation party. She had broken up with me a month earlier with no warning, and we hadn’t spoken a word to each other since.

Our chat at the party was brief, breezy, and very painful (for me). She told me she was going to France to spend the summer with her mother before heading off in the Fall to Virginia Tech. I thought I’d never hear from her again.

Yet, out of the blue, she somehow tracks me down at Ithaca, and this phone call from her is beyond unexpected.

“I called your house Conor, and your mom gave me this number at your dorm,” Kai said. “I’ve called a few times and didn’t know it was a hall payphone. No one could find you until today. I’m really glad they did.”

I was pretty freaked out and my emotions were all over the place. When she broke up with me, she was adamant it was over. Now five months later, she’s calling me from what sounds like France. I was still crazy about her, never stopped caring, and thought about her every day.

We were both young at only eighteen, but what we experienced was something people wrote songs about. It was that special. I was incredibly excited to hear her voice, but with the breakup, I wasn't sure how to react.

“I uh, wow, don’t know what to say. It’s um, great to hear your voice. I uh, I, I’ve missed you.”

There was a hesitation and it seemed as if Kai also was unsure what to say next. At least that’s what it sounded like through all the crackling on the line. After a few more seconds she spoke with a husky voice, just above a whisper.

“I’m glad I found you. I know it’s been a while. I’ve been thinking about you.” There was a lengthy pause and then she added, “a lot.”

My eyes started to brim with tears. I was glad I faced the wall so no one could see. The trembling in my hand had moved into my chest and I realized I was breathing hard making it almost impossible to speak.

With a raspy, breathy voice, I told her, “I’ve never stopped thinking about you.”

The line continued to crackle and hiss with another pause. Kai’s voice seemed to shift, and she spoke with a lot more pace.

“Conor, I’m calling from a small village near St. Tropez, in France. I’ve been here most of the summer. It might sound luxurious, but it’s actually been pretty difficult, and some things have happened, actually some bad things, and I need to be around someone I know who really cares.”

“Are you OK? What can I do, Kai,” I asked.

“Yes, I’ll be fine, especially if I can see you. I’m flying into JFK on Friday night. Do you think you can meet me at the airport? We can drive up to New Paltz together and catch up.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The one person who I would’ve walked from Ithaca to New York City to meet at JFK, who I thought was gone forever, wanted to be with me.

With way too much enthusiasm I replied, “Yes, of course I can!”

Before I said anything else, Kai quickly continued, “Great, I’m flying in from Paris on Air France flight #78 and landing at 9:45 PM this Friday. Did you get that? Flight 78 at 9:45 Friday night, O.K.? Thanks, Conor, someone’s coming, I got to go.”

“Yes, I got it, I can’t…” Kai abruptly hung up, “…wait, to, see, you…”

The dial tone droned loudly in my ear. For a full minute, I held the phone there, took several deep breaths, and stared up at the ceiling to clear the water from my eyes. It was hard to wrap my head around what had just happened. I was stunned. Literally.

As casually as possible, I hung up the phone, shoved my hands in my pockets, and walked past the crowd loitering by the payphone in the common room. No one seemed to take notice of my red eyes and distraught appearance.

I went out the back door of the dorm and into the humid afternoon. I needed to clear my head and think. Even though my life with Kai was supposedly over, the effect she had on me was profound. I had been crushed by the breakup and seeing her in school every day leading up to graduation was excruciating. It zapped my interest in relationships in general, even with just making new friends. For the last week, my first at college, I pretty much had stayed to myself.

After trying to put Kai in the rearview mirror, she reaches out months later and wants to see me again. Feeling whiplashed emotionally is an understatement. I really had no idea what she was thinking beyond a ride from the airport to New Paltz, but I had committed myself to find out. After walking aimlessly around campus for an hour, I realized without a car or much cash, I had to figure out how to fulfill the promise I just made to the most important person in my world.

I had to snap out of it and get busy!

 

August 31, 1979, Friday Afternoon, On route to JFK (two days later)

I left at noon, giving me plenty of leeway in case I hit traffic, got a flat, or had some other mishap. I was taking no chances of being late to JFK.

Luckily, I was able to borrow a car for the trip from one of my new dorm mates. He lives in a town not far from New Paltz, my hometown. His brother lent him a car to bring his stuff up to campus, and he had to return it in a week anyway. With me driving it back instead, I’m saving him a long return bus trip. Works out for everybody.

It’s quite a junker, a gray 1965 Rambler with rusted fenders, several dents, and a few hubcaps missing. Fortunately, the interior is pretty clean, and most importantly, it runs. Since I’m saving him bus fare, my new friend even threw in a tank of gas.

About thirty miles outside of Ithaca, the reality of actually seeing Kai started to seep in. Through our senior year of high school, we were mad about each other, with an intensity that’s rarely matched. It was something that went way beyond a mere high school romance.

Then Kai abruptly ended things for no reason, without any explanation given. It was totally Cold Turkey. One day we were inseparable soulmates, then bam, the next day we weren’t. For me, nothing changed, except she was gone. It was confounding and painfully devastating.

Approaching the outskirts of Binghamton, I started to think about what she had in mind. Kai had mentioned some trouble and difficulties she had over the summer, but what trouble could you find in St. Tropez? It was the luxury spot of the French Riviera. Still, she seemed sincere, but was I merely being used for a ride home? After all this time, I knew I had to find out. I thought about how I was heading into the unknown when I hit a pothole. As the car jostled, I noticed the needle of the fuel gauge slowly slide from the “F” to the “½” symbol.

It must have been stuck, and if it was now correct, this was not good.

We were in the midst of a nationwide gas shortage. It was all over the news, but without a car, I hadn’t paid much attention. There was gas rationing and long lines of cars queuing up at gas stations. I got an uneasy pinging in my gut.

You could only buy gas if the last digit on your license plate matched the odd or even date on the calendar. Today was August 31, an odd date. I pulled over, jumped out, and sure enough the last digit on the Rambler’s plate was an even number 8.

I was in trouble.

I kicked the rear bumper in frustration and leaned against the back of the car. It was all my own doing. I should have checked more into the gas rationing business and made sure the tank was topped off on the even date before the trip. I was such an idiot.

I had brought twenty dollars for the trip thinking I wouldn’t need gas. Doing a quick calculation, I figured I’d need about ten to fifteen dollars to fill the tank and a few dollars more for tolls. It would be close, but doable.

Getting a gas station to sell me gas was going to be a bigger problem. I’d have to cross that bridge when I came to it. I certainly wasn’t going to turn around now and hopped back into the Rambler and headed east.

It was a gorgeous late summer day without a cloud in the sky. Fields of dried corn stalks flew by mile after mile as I drove, and I drifted back to thinking about Kai. I wondered if she wanted to rekindle things or was it something else. Her mom’s friends, the Toucy’s, who she stayed with on the Riviera, were enormously wealthy. After summering at their chateau, would she be interested in a guy like me? With all these questions, until I knew more, I promised myself to keep things on an even keel. No sense in getting my hopes up to get stomped on again.

Easier said than done.

The road eventually became a four-lane highway. The rambler’s radio was busted with only the steady drone of the Rambler’s engine to keep me company. This along with the sameness of the upstate countryside made it easy to melt into the drive. After going a hundred miles through rural upstate New York, my daydreaming was interrupted when I noticed less than a quarter tank of gas on the fuel gauge. A feeling of panic ebbed its way into my head.

Thankfully, a few miles later an exit appeared along with an advertisement for a truck stop. It occurred to me that a busy truck stop might not check plates very thoroughly. It was worth a shot, and I pulled off the highway to check it out.

There wasn’t a line for gas, so I drove in and pulled up to an available pump. An attendant popped out from behind it and waved me off. I tried to engage him, and he yelled, “wrong plate, keep it moving.”

Slowly I drove around the pumps and parked the Rambler in the back of a diner sitting in the middle of the lot. I sat there for a few minutes and a defeated hollow feeling crept in. I decided I could afford a forty-cent cup of coffee and went into the diner to consider the next steps.

I walked in and took in the scene. It was a classic New York diner setup. There was a counter on one side. In front of it were several round chrome-based stools attached to the floor like mushrooms with caps topped in red vinyl. Opposite sat several black vinyl booths along the windows looking out at the highway. Each had a small silver jukebox attached to the end of the table closest to the window. I took a stool at the end of the counter.

The diner was more than half full of travelers, and a strong smell of coffee, burgers, and french fries wafted out of the kitchen located on the other side of the counter. Two stools down from me was a huge guy wearing a Mack Truck cap nursing a soda. A friendly middle-aged server came over. She was wearing the typical diner white one-piece uniform with a light green apron tied around her waist. She wore a small cap that held her hair together in a bun of sorts. I ordered a cup of coffee.

I was in a very glum mood, and when she brought the coffee, she noticed and asked,

“You all right honey?”

I looked up and asked her in a fairly melancholy yet earnest tone,

“Ever come across perfect love?”

When a stranger asks such a question, it’s best to say no and quickly move away. She didn’t. Twice my age, with a pretty face and a large chest, pick-up lines from diners like the Mack Hat guy were probably a regular thing. She could tell right away that wasn’t my intent. She asked me to hold my thoughts, went into the kitchen, and reappeared with a burger for Mack Hat.

She leaned in and asked, “It’s been a long time, but yes, I’ve heard of perfect love. Why do you ask?”

I quickly told her my story about Kai, sharing the intense love affair we had, and how we were made for each other. She topped up my coffee and asked me to wait to tell the rest while she checked on a few other customers.

She came back over to hear more, clearly intrigued. I explained how it was a perfect, forever type love, and how Kai had abruptly ended things for no apparent reason back in the Spring. Then, two days ago, she calls me from the French Riviera and asks if I’d meet her tonight at JFK on her return to the States.

Mack Hat finished his burger and was clearly eavesdropping. He started leaning in a bit closer to not miss how my story ended.

“Are you on your way to JFK right now?” she asked.

“I am,” I answered, “I have no idea what will happen, still, I have to find out. I borrowed an old car, and a while back the fuel gauge broke. I thought I had enough gas to get me there, turns out the tank is almost empty.”

“Thank goodness you had enough left to make it here. There may be a shortage, but we have plenty,” she said.

“Well, there might be plenty, yet I can’t seem to get any,” and I paused to take things in.

Mack Hat loudly cleared his throat, as a cue to butt into our conversation. We both turned our heads in his direction and with a deep voice, he said, “Let me guess, you have an even number plate and today is an odd day for gas, am I right?

He was listening more than I thought, and surprisingly he also had the right answer.

“Exactly, I tried to get gas before coming in here, and the attendant waved me off and wouldn’t allow it. I’m afraid I’m doomed,” I told them.

The server, perhaps thinking about her own lost loves, said, “No way. You have to be at the airport when Kai walks off her plane. You just have to!”

Her energy was infectious yet had little impact on me and I glumly replied, “Without some gas, I don’t see how.”

To my good fortune, she did have an effect on someone else.

Mack Hat looked past me and caught up in her challenge and perhaps her cleavage, told her, “I’m not sure if it’ll work, but I have an idea. Out in my rig, I have an empty jerrycan. If we can somehow fill it a few times, that should be more than enough to get him to the City. What do you think?”

I looked over at him with astonishment. Waves of an emotional rollercoaster shot through me. Not thinking, I jumped off my stool and hugged him. His smile quickly changed to a frown when he noticed I had my arms halfway around him. I realized that this giant burly truck driver, except for maybe his dad, had never had a guy hug him. I quickly backed away, apologizing profusely.

He stood up, pointed a giant finger at me with a scowl, and looked around the diner. Realizing no one noticed my hug, he relaxed, sat back down, and said, “It’s O.K., just don’t do it again.”

The server reached into her purse from under the counter and tossed me a set of keys. She said, “There’s a red Corolla out back with even number plates. Drive up to the pumps and fill up the big fella’s jerrycan a few times and you’ll be good to go.”

With that, she smiled, winked at Mack Hat, and headed into the kitchen to get another order.

Mack Hat and I retrieved his jerrycan. When we unlocked the Corolla, he surprised me by squeezing into the passenger side. I didn’t say a thing.

When we reached the gas pump, the attendant saw the jerrycan and came over. He was a short, skinny guy who looked and smelled like he hadn’t taken a bath in a month. He reminded me of someone who is given power that he’d never had before in his life.

With a whiny voice, he said, “What do you think you’re doing? Gas is for cars only.”

“I looked over at him and said, “I have the right numbered plate for today. It doesn’t say I have to put the gas I buy into the car.”

“Sorry pal, I’m in charge here, what I say goes, and…” Just then, Mack Hat peeled himself out of the server’s small car and stood up, towering over the smelly attendant.

He glared at the little guy and with a commanding voice said, “What were you saying?”

“Well, this is irregular, it’s not something that…I, I…” Flustered the attendant looked up at Mack Hat. He was more than twice his size, and it took all the bluster away. He grunted and skulked off to bother someone else.

We quickly filled the Rambler with the jerrycan. It worked perfectly, topping off the Rambler’s tank. Best of all, it only cost nine dollars.

We went back inside, and I thanked the server and handed back her keys. I told her how Mack Hat saved the day and put the attendant in his place. She gazed over at the truck driver with a look meant for a hero. With a sheepish grin, he gave her one of the best “aw shucks” shrugs I’d ever seen. I smiled to myself thinking something else besides their charitable deeds may follow my little gas drama.

I gave the server a hug and kissed her cheek, whispering a thank you in her ear. Her cheeks turned red, and slightly embarrassed she retreated into the kitchen.

There was a check for my coffee, and I pulled a bill out of my pocket and laid it on top. Not waiting for any change, I looked over at Mack Hat. He put up both his hands as if to say, “No hug for me.” We laughed and I thanked him with a strong handshake and walked out to the Rambler. The generosity of these two people bowled me over.

A few hours of driving later, I started to notice the traffic pick up as I got closer to the City. I finally reached the Tappan Zee Bridge that would take me over the Hudson River and into the metro area.

The toll was a dollar. I pulled out the ten-dollar bill left over from the truck stop, but it wasn’t a ten. It was a one-dollar bill. I checked all my pockets, and they were empty. How did I lose ten bucks?

I approached the Tappan Zee toll and it dawned on me what had happened. Thinking I was leaving a dollar for a forty-cent cup of coffee, I mistakenly left a ten-dollar bill. As I paid the toll with my last dollar, I smiled at the thought of the server finding a whopping tip for a cup of coffee. It complicated things making the rest of my trip more of an adventure, though she totally deserved it.

After crossing the bridge, I pulled into a rest stop. I had to figure out how to navigate my way into the airport without having to pay any tolls. I could head into the city and take the surface streets, but that could take too long, and I’d probably get lost. There was no way around it, I had to use the NY State Thruway and the Whitestone Bridge to get to JFK, and both had tolls. The only solution was to blow through the toll booths without paying.

In the glove box, I found a pencil and a piece of paper. I tore it in half, and on each wrote “I.O.U.,” my New Paltz address, and signed it. If I had to go through without paying, at least I’d put my best foot forward.

The Cross Bronx Expressway was jammed as usual, and it took a few hours of stop and go traffic to inch my way around NYC. When I approached the tolls, I rolled slowly through both toll booths, handed over my IOUs, and kept on going. Luckily, no cops were lurking.

 

August 31, 1979, Friday Night, JFK Airport

I was standing in the main gate area, off to the side as the passengers deplaned from Kai’s Air France flight. I was nervous, not knowing what she’d be like. After a summer in the south of France with the beautiful people, she might be quite different.

I finally spotted her from across the gate area. Her eyes were roaming the crowd, I assume looking for me. If I hadn’t known her that well, I might not have recognized her. Kai was a brunette with beautifully flowing layers; it was a signature of her look, and it was no more. Instead, her hair was now bleach blonde and in a pixie cut. It was jarring, but in a good way, incredibly sexy, and made her look entirely different. Obviously, that was the idea.

Kai always looked great, and after a summer on the Riviera, she was striking. She glowed with a bronze tan and was wearing a short skirt that showed off her long-toned legs. A tight-fitting flowery top emphasizing her ample chest and trim athletic figure, finished off her look. It all drove home what I’d been missing.

I noticed several eyes on her from other men in the gate area. Looking down at my jeans and the Frank Zappa t-shirt I wore, I thought how foolish I was for not trying to make a better impression. Too late for that now.

I watched her for about a minute. Then under my breath said, “Now or never.”

Without calling out to her, I walked up near where she was standing and stopped several feet away. After a few seconds, she turned in my direction and saw me. I wore a welcoming, friendly, yet not overly enthusiastic expression. The last time I saw her she had broken my heart, and I needed her to show me why I was here. Still, it was difficult not to rush up and throw my arms around her. Kai was breathtaking.

We locked onto each other’s eyes from that distance. I had a feeling that we were seeing each other for the first time. Without a smile, she seemed to be studying me with a seductive expression of anticipation. I could barely breathe.

She slowly walked over to where I stood, and with her sparkling hazel eyes looked up at me for several seconds. Then threw her arms around me, and with typical Kai sarcasm, whispered into my ear,

“Where have you been Conor Walsh?”

She pulled away a little, looked up into my eyes, and placed her hand around the back of my neck. As passionately as one could imagine, she kissed me with a deep desire, with our tongues embracing and lips caressing, sending hormones flooding my entire body. It seemed to last forever and was incredibly romantic. I never wanted it to end.

When it did, a cheer went up from flight attendants and passengers who were taking in the show. Still embracing each other, we looked over at our cheering section and Kai waved.

“I told a few of them about you and shared the reception I was hoping to get when we landed.” She flashed a coy smile at me, “And I definitely just got it.”

The crowd started to disperse finally. As they passed by, a beautiful flight attendant walked up to us.

“Oh mon dieu, c'était si romantique, mieux qu'on ne l'imaginait."

She then gave me a once over and with a sideways glance at Kai told her, "Et il est magnifique!”

Before going on her way, she added in English with a sexy French accent, “So happy for you both.”

I gave Kai a quizzical look and she said, “Rough translation, ‘how romantic, much better than even we imagined.’ Oh, and she thinks you’re gorgeous.”

With that, she looked up into my eyes, ran her fingers over my cheek, and added, “I do too.”

To say the angels had taken me to heaven was the understatement of all understatements. For the last several months, all I ever dreamed about was what had just happened. Still, I didn’t want to get too carried away and be seen as a pushover. I tried to keep my cool, while 4th of July finale fireworks were going off inside me.

I did my best to hold a steady gaze of sorts and said, “Your chariot awaits “princesse.”

 

5. September 1, 1979, Saturday, Early Morning on the road to New Paltz

Fortunately, the car was in the loading zone where I left it and hadn’t been towed. I explained to Kai that I didn’t own a car and had to borrow one and had to take what I could get. I told her it certainly wasn’t quite the chariot I would have liked.

“Conor don’t worry about it. For the last few months, I’ve been driven in Porsche’s, Ferrari’s and limos. Riding in a regular American car will actually be nice for a change,” She replied.

Kai spotted the Rambler surrounded by limos and Black Town Cars. Pointing at it she said,

“Well, at least it can’t be any worse than that gray hunk of junk!”

I stopped walking when she said that. After a step, she stopped too, and turned to face me. I tilted my head a bit and nodded up and down with half a smile and half a frown. She looked back at the Rambler, then back at me again, and we both burst out laughing. When we caught our breath, she said with a smile,

“That chariot will do.”

To avoid tolls, I took back roads all through Westchester and into the Hudson Valley. It made the trip twice as long and gave us more of a chance to catch up.

We didn’t talk about “us.” Instead, we fell into a rhythm that only seems to come easily with close friends. I told her I waited tables at Mohonk Mountain House over the summer, and it reminded her of the fun hikes we took there last year. She asked if I had met any hot servers, and I joked that most were homely and over thirty, so no.

We talked about her mom and her summer in France. I was tempted to ask about the difficulties she experienced. Not wanting to darken the amazing vibe we were sharing, I held off. I was astonished at how comfortably we shared things with each other. It was as if the last several months hadn’t happened, and we’d never been apart.

I told her about the trip to the airport and how the trucker and the server helped with the gas rationing. She had no idea about the fuel shortages and was thankful these kind people had come to my rescue. She told me that all summer long in St. Tropez she hadn’t driven once and was chauffeured everywhere. It didn’t even occur to her the difficulty she caused by asking me to pick her up.

“I wanted to see you, that's all I thought about,” she said. “How ridiculously out of touch I must have seemed. No car, gas rationing, and a six-hour drive, all in the creature comforts of this beauty,” she said tapping the dash. “You must have thought I was totally self-absorbed and inconsiderate. I am deeply sorry.”

She reached over and took my hand, our fingers intertwined with mine and she held it tightly. She told me she was thrilled that I did come for her. Knowing how resourceful I could be, she wasn’t surprised that I managed to find a way.

I smiled and remembered why I cared so much about her. I sensed she felt it too with the looks she kept giving me. We continued chatting away with smart aleck ribbing like best friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while. With every pause in our conversation, I could see her eyes sparkle with delight in the lights that flashed by.

I really didn’t want the car ride to ever end, it was magical.

As we got closer to New Paltz, I asked about her family. She told me her father was away with his new wife on vacation, and only her sister would be at home. She directed me to the house in the Cherry Hill neighborhood of New Paltz. It was after 2 AM when we pulled in.

Still holding hands, with a sly half-smile she said, “Since it’s very late, you better come in and spend the night with me.”

Once inside, we accidentally woke up her sister. She was incredibly happy to see Kai, and with the late hour we all decided to catch up in the morning.

Kai led me into her bedroom, and over acting, seductively said she wanted to get into “something a bit more comfortable.” We both chuckled at the silly cliche. She used the bathroom, and when she reappeared my heart skipped a beat. She was wearing a tight t-shirt cut in half with fully exposed under boob, thong-style panties, and nothing else. She was stunning.

She walked up and passionately kissed me even longer than we had kissed at the airport gate. It took my breath away. She looked me in the eye and said, “Conor, I’m exhausted, is it all right if we get some sleep?”

With a wink and a sexy smile, she added, “We can pick up where we left off in the morning.”

I stripped down to my boxer shorts and laid down beside her on the bed. With our arms wrapped around each other, Kai fell asleep almost at once. I lay there too amped up to sleep thinking about this stunning woman lying beside me.

I inhaled her. Kai has a fragrance all her own that I had missed. Her musky scent blended with a mist of Chanel conjuring up many erotic memories we shared in the past year. I listened to the small breaths she took as she slept, and they were so delicate and feminine. With each breath, I could see her breasts rise and fall. Hardened nipples poked through her half t-shirt that barely covered and stretched across her chest.

I couldn’t help asking myself as I lay there, “Am I in heaven?”

I finally dozed off with her head resting on my shoulder, our legs in tangles like a soft pretzel, and her arm draped across my chest.

 

6. September 1, 1979, Saturday, New Paltz, NY

I woke up wondering if the day before was a dream.

I was alone in bed and glanced around the room for something that reminded me where I was. I noticed a large photo of Kai and her mother on the wall opposite the bed. The picture was of the drawing room in her Mom’s flat in Paris. I had been there, but it was a far-off memory I had locked away.

I sat up in bed as the door opened. Kai came in with the same skimpy outfit she had worn as we fell asleep the night before. She came over and kneeled on the floor next to the bed, leaning on the edge of the mattress with her arms crossed, looking up at me radiant as ever.

“Hey sleepy head,” she joked, “aren’t I the jet-lagged one who should be sleep deprived?”

I slid off the bed onto the floor next to her and placed my hand on her cheek. Slowly I moved my fingers through her hair above her ear gently grasping the back of her neck.

Looking deeply into her eyes, with a soft voice I said, “I’ll never love anyone more than you. Since you’ve been gone, I’ve been…”

Kai reached up and placed her index finger across my lips and held it there to silence me.

“I’ve been in another world, Conor. One that is hard to explain and one that has kept me from you. Let’s not dwell on it and love each other like it’s the first time. My heart is yours and know that it’s always going to be there no matter what.”

Kai pulled me toward her on the floor and she began kissing me. Placing her hand on my thigh, she rubbed up and down from my knee to my hip. Our tongues explored as we massaged our lips, sending sparks firing through my brain. We kissed fiercely for several minutes moving side to side to all parts of our mouths. I could smell more of the muskiness of her body as I moved my lips down her neck and nibbled on her ear lobe.

Kai pulled her t-shirt off exposing her breasts and moved my hand up to her nipples. They were hard and sensitive. I lightly massaged them, and with my lips licked and flicked them with my tongue. I could hear moaning sounds deep inside her chest as I caressed them.

I looked into her eyes with a longing that I hadn’t mustered since we last made love, months before. Kai kissed me hard for a long time. I sat on the edge of the bed, and she pulled off my shorts and stroked what she found there in her hands. She brought her tongue and mouth replacing her hands, caressing, arousing, and flooding my body with endorphins.

Kai then climbed into my lap and with her hands on my shoulders, slid herself on top of me. We locked eyes, linking our souls, with a single tear running down her cheek and a small smile on her face.

She kept her gaze on me, her hands caressing my neck and shoulders as she slowly and gently rocked back and forth. I held her waist and caressed her breasts as a trembling built up inside. We prolonged the buildup of our passion as best as we could to extend the moment as she continued to move her hips at an increased pace.

Our renewed feelings for each other took the sexual ecstasy to a new level of intensity. With our bodies joined, I sensed a quivering climax approaching. Kai reached a peak of pleasure I’d never seen her experience. It rocked her body with a long-lasting, shuddering orgasm that also sent me over the edge. Together we collapsed on the bed.

It was so tender, then powerful, and finally mesmerizing. I had trouble remembering any of our past lovemaking as intense or sensual as what just happened. I was blown away.

Still panting heavily, eyes wide and looking fiercely into me, she asked with an ironic chuckle, “Oh my God, where have you been Conor?”

Calmer, Kai snuggled her head under my chin and wrapped one leg above my waist and her other rested between mine. Our arms found a gentle place to caress and hold each other. The way we fit lying together was natural and perfect. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I swear our hearts were beating in rhythm with each other. We were two people melted into one perfect being. We stayed in bed touching, nuzzling, re-exploring each other. Once recovered, we continued making love in various positions for over an hour.

“Conor, every time you look at me, I see your eyes telling me that I’m the only one. I get squishy inside thinking about it and feel I’m so special.”

“You’re not just special, you’re extraordinary,” I said in a hushed voice.

“Hmmm, I’m not so sure, still I love you for saying it.”

Before Conor could say anything else, Kai announced, “Anyway, I need a shower, I smell like I’ve spent a week flying in coach, sitting across from the bathrooms in the back row of the plane.”

She kissed me on the cheek, got up, and went into her bathroom. I was tempted to join her, but it didn’t seem like an invitation and thought she might want some alone time.

Thirty minutes later she walked into the bedroom with wet hair and quite a different demeanor. Her eyes were reddened, she blinked them multiple times to clear them and was massaging the back of her neck that was in pain from a strong headache.

Looking angry and frustrated, she started rifling through her open suitcase, “God damnit, I can never find anything. I feel like I’ve lived out of this freaking suitcase my whole life!”

She finally pulled a hairbrush out that was hidden between some clothes. Rubbing the back of her neck, she turned to me and said, “And why haven’t you been there for me? No one ever is, not one damn person!”

She stormed back into the bathroom slamming the door behind her. I got up off the bed and stood in the middle of the room, baffled beyond belief. After several minutes she came back in with her hair brushed out and tossed the brush into her suitcase. Ignoring her earlier outburst, she said,

“I’m all jet lagged and need to lie down for a while.”

“Sure, of course.” I paused looking at her for a few more seconds. Then I said, “Kai, last night you asked me where I’ve been. I’ve always been there, and I always will.”

Kai let out a long sigh, her shoulders sagged, and her head drooped a bit. She sat on the edge of the bed and a veil of sadness seemed to come over her. Using a monotone voice she said,

“There were things that happened, bad things, horrible things that I’m ashamed of. Things happened to me that were out of my control.” She paused deep in thought for a few moments, then looked up at me and said, “You should know I’m not worthy of you.”

I looked at her carefully and tried to make sense of what she was saying. It seemed that in the last hour, I was speaking with three people instead of one.

“Whatever happened, it doesn’t matter to me. It’s in the past. I don’t care, Kai,” I told her

“Well it matters to me!” she replied.

She climbed into bed and fell fast asleep.

 

 

7. September 1, 1979, Saturday Afternoon, New Paltz, NY (later that same day)

While I sat in the living room pondering the future, Kai’s fourteen year old sister popped her head in. She was going to make a cup of Earl Grey tea and wondered if I wanted any. I told her I didn’t and thanked her for asking. Starting back toward the kitchen, she hesitated, turned around, and surprised me to no end.

“Conor Walsh, you could’ve had any girl in the whole school. Everyone I knew wanted to get in your pants, but you wanted Kai. You were the best thing that ever happened to her. She was the biggest fool in the world when she broke up with you last Spring and for no reason! I don’t know what’s happening with you two now. I thought you should know whatever it is, I’m all for it,” She said very boldly.

She turned on her heels and headed out to the kitchen.

∞

It was early afternoon when I checked on Kai. She was still sleeping. As I backed out of her room, on a dresser by her bedroom door, I noticed an open notepad. On the page, there was a message underlined in big letters. It caught my eye because it wasn’t there the last time I was in the room. It said,

“Remember Michael’s birth day!”

It seemed odd because I didn’t think any of Kai’s friends were named Michael, certainly no one close enough to remember a birthday. If it were someone she met in France, the name in the note would be Michel. It was strange, still, there were weightier matters to think about.

∞

While Kai slept, I couldn't stop thinking about what lay ahead. There was a big elephant lurking between us, as of yet left unspoken.

Except for a few jet-lagged outbursts, the last twenty-four hours had been sensational. It seemed we were at the beginning stages of rebuilding something beautiful. If I was right, we had to confront a very delicate future. Unless I drastically changed my plans, in three days classes start at Ithaca. Kai starts at Virginia Tech at some point in the coming week as well.

I thought about our long-distance chances. There’s a reason high school romances don’t last. As college freshmen, for the first time, we’re on our own and experience new things every week. Sharing them with a whole group of new friends, makes it easy to eventually grow apart.

Kai and I had traveled through Europe, stayed as a couple in her mom’s flat in Paris, and lived together in an apartment for the last half of our senior year of high school. If there was money on the line, we’d be a good bet to make it. Still, long-distance relationships were tough, even for soulmates. I wished we had more time before going our separate ways.

∞

I heard Kai waking up. As she came out of her room, I noticed she hesitated and briefly glanced down, reading the birthday note about Michael. Her brow wrinkled and she had a pained expression. It reminded me that I wanted to ask her about it. She caught me watching her and she held my gaze for several beats with a wrinkled brow. It was as if something clicked inside of her that didn’t sit well. She walked toward me rubbing the back of her neck and with a blank expression asked if I’d take a walk in the neighborhood.

It was late afternoon, and the longer rays of the late summer sun gave everything a softer golden glow. The Cherry Hill neighborhood was a residential area with numerous houses every few hundred feet. There were many streets that crisscrossed the development that dated back several decades.

We headed out holding hands and after turning onto the next street, Kai took her hand away. Looking down at the street as we walked she asked,

“When are you heading back to Ithaca?

I laughed silently to myself. It didn’t take long for the elephant to rear his fat head. I stopped walking and thought about my answer a bit before speaking.

“Depending on what’s happening here, I’m not sure when I’ll go back. The only thing that matters most now is standing right next to me,” I replied looking into her eyes.

Kai looked up at me. She said, “That’s not an answer Conor, you paid tuition and have to go back. If I hadn’t reached out to you, you’d be there right now.”

“You’re right, I would be. My life was upended five months ago when you gave us up, and your call to me a few days ago breathed life back in. Since picking you up at the airport, am I the only one that feels the pull between us?” I asked.

She didn’t answer, and we walked a few blocks in silence. It was interrupted by a flock of geese that flew overhead, chasing each other, and honking their encouragement for each other to keep up and stay close. I stopped and looked up as their perfect “V” formation moved off toward the horizon, hoping to conjure up a way to keep Kai as close as the geese.

After they disappeared, I looked down at Kai trying to come up with the right words to convince her.

“You’ve always had your head in the clouds thinking about the future and what could be Conor. It’s one of the things I admire most about you,” Kai said. “I’m heading to Virginia Tech in a few days, and we need to be realistic, dreaming we’ll overcome all obstacles doesn’t work.”

“Kai, what happened to us last spring? You have yet to tell me. There must have been something I did for you to end things so abruptly. Tell me and I’ll fix it, I promise I will,” I said.

“I can’t go there with you. I told you that I’ve been in another world, one that sometimes keeps me from you. What we’ve meant to each other and been through is something that’s hard to understand.” Kai said in a flat voice as tears began to slowly stream down her cheeks.

“I don’t know what to say, Is there someone else you want to be with? Michael?” I asked.

I thought I heard her say, “I wish,” under her breath.

“There’s no one else Conor,” she lied. Yet not a lie I’d have been surprised by.

“I can transfer to Virginia next semester, and we can be together, it’s not that hard, we can do this,” Conor pleaded.

“Sure, and give up your spot at one of the best programs in the country? Conor, there’s no film school at Virginia Tech. I won’t let you give up on your dreams,” Kai admonished.

“The only dream I have has you starring in it, Kai”

She stared at me with no sign of emotion, just tears. She was a different, broken person. It was heartbreaking and unnerving.

“In the last 24 hours, we’ve been best friends, passionate lovers, and shared things only soulmates could possibly share. Has it all been an illusion?” Conor asked.

Tears were falling faster, and her eyes were rimmed with red.

“No. The opposite is true. These feelings we have between us are very real and have meant more than you could ever know. I will remember them always,” Kai cried.

“Kai, this is crazy. Why don’t we take the night and think it through? There are ideas we haven’t even thought of yet. You care enough to at least give us that chance, don’t you?” I pleaded.

She looked at me through cold eyes and replied, “All right, but I need to be alone. You’ll be too much of a distraction.”

We had walked to the bottom of Cherry Hill. This is where it meets the middle school property and is close to the road to my parent’s house.

She turned to me and said bluntly, “I’ll reach out tomorrow. Now, you must go.”

 

8. September 3, 1979, Mid-Day Sunday, New Paltz, NY (the next day)

South of town, running fast down Jansen Road, I passed Dubois Road on the left and increased my pace. Running downhill helped, and I was able to stretch out each stride and was making great time. I knew once I passed Blues Nursing Home at the bottom of the hill and got to Rt 208, there was a steep hill as I turned toward town that would cost me a lot of time. I needed to get ahead on the stretch of road I was on.

My mind was racing faster than my legs were taking me. All of the past year’s trials of hardship and glorious moments were wrapped up in this three-mile sprint. I was frantic yet determined. I always hated running for no purpose. I had never before tried to run this fast for three miles, still, I had all the purpose I needed to do it.

∞

Earlier that morning I walked into the kitchen and my Mom almost fainted. She had no idea I was in New Paltz, let alone in the house. I had snuck in pretty late the night before and crashed in the guest room in the basement. I’d walked half the night thinking about Kai and our future.

∞

Running faster, running fiercely, running on fumes as I pushed to keep the pace up the steep hill on Rt 208. As I climbed each stride became shorter, and with my calves on fire, I increased the frequency of each step trying to keep the pace. After cresting the hill, Rt. 208 gave up its degree of difficulty with a long gradual downhill.

I got my wind back after the climb and kicked it into high gear as I sprinted past what I thought was the first mile. My heart was pounding with emotion. I used it as fuel and increased my speed, down the long gradual downhill. I was flying.

∞

I shared with my Mom the magical day with Kai until it wasn’t. How she was madly in love with me, then woke up from a nap and wasn’t. It was as if an alien possessed her. My mom gave me a long hug and told me that the right girl for me will be someone who is thrilled to be with me.

She reminded me that Kai and I had been through a lot and maybe it was too much. My mom always knows what to say. She thought Kai was lovely, yet was hoping I’d go off to college, and forget her. She gave me a hug and left to run some errands.

∞

Running with abandon, running past the apple orchard where Kai and I once made mad, passionate love. It was all the motivation I needed to continue sprinting at this ridiculous pace.

I veered up a trail off of Rt 208 that cut through the orchard and led to the back “tripping fields” of the college. Running off-road softened the steps I was taking. I had found a good rhythm although I was getting winded and wanted to throw up. I ignored it and pushed on even faster, faster, and faster.

∞

The phone rang right as my mom pulled out of the driveway. It was just past noon. I was sure it was Kai.

It wasn’t.

“Conor, this is Kai’s sister. She doesn’t know I’m calling. I thought you should know. Kai just left for the bus station. She’s taking the 12:30 Trailways to Virginia. I’m sorry Conor, you deserve better. She’s insane and a freaking idiot. If you want to see her before she leaves, you may want to head over there.”

∞

Running faster than ever, running on pace, running down past the tennis courts and the college gym. I got a third or fourth wind, I wasn't sure which. Every hundred yards I picked out a tree or a mailbox, imagining them to be the finish line and needing a massive kick to win the race.

∞

I hung up the phone and took a deep breath. My mom had taken the car, I had no cash for a taxi, and my old bike had two flat tires. I was screwed.

I knew the distance to the bus station was a little over three miles, similar to a 5K race. While pacing frantically back and forth, I tried to remember my best 5K time. It was either 20 or 25 minutes, and it was more than ten minutes after twelve. I’d been an athlete my whole life and more than talent, I mostly succeeded on sheer guts and determination. I was going to run, and I was going to make it. I blasted out the front door.

∞

Running, running, running, I passed in front of the Campus School, and I was coming into the home stretch. The last hurdle was the hill on Plattekill Ave past the SUNY Old Main Building. I was close to spent, rounded the corner, and dug deep and with adrenaline coursing through my veins I cruised up it. I took the left on South Oakwood Terrace at a full sprint.

I seemed to be ahead of schedule. As exhilarating as that was, the thought of Kai leaving started to ebb into my mind. What was I going to do when I got to the bus station? Ask her not to go? Get on the bus with her? Drag her back to her house, or mine? I kept running faster and faster.

∞

I was Sebastian Coe kicking to the finish line at the end of the lane where it intersected Main Street. I pulled up to a stop well before the intersection and could see the Trailways Station across the street. There was a bus idling in the parking lot with several people waiting to board. I noticed that Kai wasn’t one of them.

Sucking in as much air as I could, I paced back and forth on the sidewalk to cool down. I checked my watch. It was 12:25. Unbelievably, I ran the three miles in under 15 minutes. I shook my head and thought how crazy one could push themselves when your entire world counted on it. I started thinking about what counted for me and why I’d pushed myself so hard.

For the first time since getting her sister’s call, the crushing magnitude of why I was here began to fully seep in. By skating out of town and escaping without saying goodbye, Kai had decided our future, and I wasn’t part of it.

As this reality sunk in, her rejection overtook me. I leaned over and placed my hands on my knees for support and threw up in dry heaves. I couldn’t stop tears from filling my eyes.

I was still breathing hard, and I violently shook my head to regain my composure and force the tears away. Sweat, tears, and spit sprayed off me in all directions. Using my fingers as a comb I smoothed back my sweat-soaked hair making myself somewhat presentable. I wasn’t going to let her last memory be of me looking like an emotional mess.

I stood across the street watching and saw a cab pull up on Main Street. Kai got out of the back seat and the driver popped the trunk, got out, and went to the back of the car to get her bag.

I quickly sprinted across the street and as the cabbie pulled out her bag, I looked at him and said, “I got it.” With the fierce look I gave him, he didn’t question it and gave me her bag.

I came around the car to where Kai was standing on the sidewalk. Surprised it was me and not the driver, she realized her disappearing act hadn’t gone as planned. With a resigned expression she lowered her eyes, shaking her head slightly from side to side without saying a word. With my heart breaking, I looked for any crack in the decision she was making.

There was none.

I let out a long breath and said nothing, nodding my head in the direction of the bus for her to follow. I walked her bag over and gave it to the bus driver. He wrapped a ticket around the handle and gave me the claim stub before stowing it in the storage area under the bus.

Kai was standing off to the side, with a bus ticket in her hand. I walked up and handed her the baggage claim stub. Our hands touched and she lingered with her fingers grasping mine for a brief moment. She gave me a tight squeeze before pulling away.

The last few passengers were getting on the bus. I wrapped my arms around her neck and shoulders. While holding her tightly, I whispered in her ear, “Two nights ago you asked me, where have you been Conor?” Pulling away, I looked into her eyes one last time, and tapped her heart, mouthing the words, “Right here, always right here.”

She blinked a few times and kept her impassive composure. As we stared at each other, her eyes began to brim with water. Expressionless, she blinked several times to clear them. Without saying a word, Kai turned and walked over to the driver. She gave him her ticket and got on the bus, finding a window seat. After settling in she stared down at me as the bus pulled away. Her face held a blank, stony expression.

The bus disappeared in a trail of exhaust as it went up Main Street, and she was gone for good.

Bus Ride In Hell, September 5, 1979, Tuesday, Trailways Bus To Ithaca, NY (2 days later)

I looked out the window as we passed by acres of farmland. It was a mish-mosh of different crops, mostly corn stalks yet to be plowed under for the winter. The bus was almost full and noticeably quiet with passengers reading or sleeping, and a few chatting in hushed tones.

The bus swept through the heart of upstate NY, stopping at what seemed like every village along the way. It was going to be a long slog of a ride, but I didn’t care as it was all just a hazy blur. As the bus droned on, clouds rolled in, it got dark and eventually started to rain, fitting perfectly with my miserable mood.

The outcome of the past few days was crushing. It was hard to fathom really, the trip to JFK, the airport welcome, the magical drive upstate, the emotionally explosive lovemaking, all of it. Yet here I am on this bus?

I kept running the way Kai left town in my head. Realizing her plan hadn’t worked after my sprint to the bus station, she said nothing. Not a word. Her blank expression was spooky as hell, as if she was a character in the movie, The Stepford Wives. I didn’t exist.

Once again, I had no idea why she ended things, and that was the cruelest twist of all. If Kai thought I’d never make anything of myself, or if she wanted to be with someone else, at least I’d know. I’d hate it, but I’d know, and could eventually move on. Now I never will.

One thing I did know, is that I’d never see her again, ever.

∞

The bus finally pulled into the station in Oneonta, halfway to Ithaca. The driver announced we’d be there for forty minutes and recommended the diner across the street.

The rain had stopped, and not wanting to deal with anyone, I got out and took a walk. Passing by a large bank of payphones. I thought about the fickle fate of getting Kai’s call last week. If I had missed it, this past weekend would never have happened. I would’ve been much closer to forgetting her and probably better off since the rawness of the present was excruciating.

With that thought rambling through my brain, as if on cue, there was a bright flash and a loud crack of thunder as the skies opened up with a downpour. I stared up at the sky for several moments as huge raindrops soaked me thoroughly. I couldn’t think of anything more fitting than being drenched at that moment.

Soaking wet, and sitting on a ridiculously uncomfortable bus seat, we pulled out of Oneonta. For the rest of the trip, I dozed on and off. In my dreams, trying to unlock the hidden secret of a broken heart, memories of the past year flashed through my head.