There was a loud parade by the beach the other day. The air was cooled by an easy ocean breeze with the sun hanging high. Looking down from the peaceful view above, the streets of a once crime-ridden neighborhood were flooded with energy as locals and out-of-towners stood shoulder-to-shoulder to watch the larger-than-life floats pass on by.
A young boy, no older than 7 -- whose expressions were hidden by a green paint of what seemed like a frog -- waves his bubble wand and watches in amusement as the weightless ornaments sail for the cloudless sky.
A middle-aged man -- dressed in peach shorts and an oversized blue tank top -- smiles and laughs while bopping to the jungle beats of a foreign marching band.
Nestled behind the sweaty onlookers was a tiny bar which looked as if it was shipped straight from a Waikiki resort. It was a little haven of the exotic, where people come to have a light drink to simmer the energy. August and Melinda sat together by the counter safely under the shade. Poor August couldn't help but feel swept away by Melinda's honey eyes and by the way her laugh sounded like a strummed harp. He gently grazes her hand, almost tickling her, looking at her ring. He runs his thumb over the crimson stone, gazing into Melinda's shy eyes, and with only a look, asks her, 'where is this from?' August's curious stare is met with a hesitant look. Melinda reaches for August's hand and guides him away from the bar.
Older men and young boys turn their heads to catch a glimpse of Melinda's beauty as the two walk away from the parade. Two old men, sitting right beside a red bricked building, fan themselves with with their hats. Their eyes fixes onto Melinda's shapely bronzed legs underneath her white sundress.
Melinda has an exotic look, obviously. Her skin is naturally browned; her eyes are light with a pair of long and dark brows. Her face isn't angular; just smooth and feminine. When she smiles she has strong creases that run down her cheeks which make great dimples. Her top lip is slender and sharp at the crest while her bottom lip is slightly fuller and pillowy -- which has made quite an impression on August for he's feeling the impulse to fervently press his maddening lips to her soft cinnamon kisser. She was always a lover even back in her childhood. Just before hitting her teen years, Melinda would grab her young crush and plant a wet kiss on the lucky boy's unexpecting mouth. Not knowing the fine art of lip locking, her kisses would usually follow with the boy wiping away the moistness of her saliva.
She'd make boys like August jealous because when boys like him would try to get her attention, she'd always happen to look away -- never intentionally to ignore them but rather as if by some greater power, they were never meant to come together. Melinda has always been a lover, always passionate, and at times, never able to let go. It was the Latin blood passed down by her ancestors which attributed to her compassion and flame. She always cared for her lover; ever faithful and had always provided the soft touch to her relationships. But boys like August would fall for her look so deeply that they couldn't care less about her current lovers. It was the way she moved her body on the dance floor; the way her body entwined with the flavor of the music made the men urge to their primal intuition. Boys like August fell in love quickly.
After Melinda would kiss her men good night, she'd leave them alone on her doorstep feeling like a flower without the sun. Her touch, her gaze, her smell, her laugh, and her flavor spun the hearts of many men. For those, like August, who were tormented in their stomachs, their hearts and souls could never rid the lasting impression of her burning aura.
August was a bit of a dreamer. The moment he learned her name, he was piecing together a puzzle in his mind, gathering thoughts of a lasting future together. He this way throughout his entire life. He never got the chance to meet a woman so tuned to his heart as Melinda. At first glance, he felt a jolt in his spine unlike anything he ever felt. He loved the way she'd say his name. It was the hint of Cajun in her voice that attracted him. He was a sucker for foreign women but they always thought he was weird and perhaps slightly misunderstood because of his dreamy ways. But similar to Melinda, August was a lover at heart. He only wanted a special person to share his dreams with. Even if a woman was in a relationship with another man, he'd never let that get in the way of telling them how he felt -- if he strongly felt anything at all. Strangely, he always had a thing for taken women.
August played the guitar by the pier some summer days and nights long ago. One summer, Melinda was visiting the city on her own from down south. On her last night she decided see the beautiful pier to have one last remaining impression of the city before her leave. August, being the at-times pathetic, lovesick, loser that he is, was singing his heart out about a lost love -- inspired by an ex who left him.
She sat by herself on the steps as pedestrians would periodically stop and listen before continuing on. He soon caught Melinda hanging on to his every word. August kept looking at her for almost the entire time she sat listening. It was as if they were the only two frozen in time; the way they glanced into each other's eyes. After he finished his session for the night, the two finally introduced each other. From then on the two could never keep their eyes off each other. They were together for hours that evening talking about their past, their present, and their hopes of the future, briefly mentioning love and relationships.
By the end of the night August had spent his day's worth of change on her dessert and the ride to her hotel, but then collected a free kiss on the cheek. However, like always, he fell in love much too quick. Not knowing she'd be leaving, August felt like returning to the hotel see her again. On his arrival -- with a flower in one hand and tickets to see a live concert in the other -- Melinda was getting into a cab on her way to the airport. August was heart broken, prompting her to gave him her home number on a fortune cookie fortune. She apologized repeatedly but August wouldn't have it. He wouldn't want her leaving with a bittersweet aftertaste. August smiled and said he'll 'see her again soon.' Feeling this urging passion from within, she kissed him on the lips. The kiss was so strong that their parting made a deep smacking noise. August even tasted her cinnamon flavor. That was the last time they had seen each other before today.
On the boardwalk, Melinda leans on a rail as August stands over her. He tries to inch forward with a smile toward her neck but she pulls back playfully. For August, his pain becomes deeper. He knows she's still in a committed relationship with a suitor down south in her hometown but he won't let that get in his heart's way. Melinda dawdles down the boardwalk while August follows in her footsteps, watching her calves contract with every step in her short heels. When walking by the side of your love, never walk ahead, for you may leave her feeling unimportant and alone; rather, walk by her side, letting your heart lead you. Melinda looks back, squinting off the rays of sun.
The parade is still thumping soundly but the sun's hovering lower over the western horizon. The streets are just as lively as when the sun first stood directly overhead. The sidewalks are littered with plastic wrappers, carton cups with burnt fries, and sprinkled mardi gras beads spilt from broken threads. A float carries a full band playing energetic music. Their speakers bump to the sound of eclectic sounds of caribbean steel pans, latin drums, and electric guitars. The onlookers dance in the middle of the street. The lights from nearby shops and amusement park illuminate the area. There is a beautiful array of multicolored lights from all corners of the street.
August's hand finds its way resting nervously on Melinda's thigh as they embrace, gently holding onto her face. Melinda leans back on the bench, letting August's body come over her more. No one's around except for the seagulls perched on the lamps beside them. The bumping of their rhythmic hearts overwhelms the sounds of the music of the band from the float. A young girl, no older than 8, and her friend sees August and Melinda and run down a ramp exiting the boardwalk, seemingly shocked yet running with giggles. Hearing the laughter, August looks up for moment to survey the area. Melinda tilts her head back over the back rest to look as well. Seeing her naked neck makes August swell up and he can't help but peer at her perky chest. Melinda glances in August's eyes and sits up. Not one word has been said for hours and the first we hear is her telling him she has to go.
He looks softly into her eyes. Her frozen posture gazes back at him. He knows what he wants to say but hesitates in fear. Melinda studies August's puzzled look. In his mind, he practices the words repeatedly for what must've been his 5000th time he's been practicing for this moment.
He feels the muscles in his lips move, about to shoot out the very words but Melinda's words come out first. Several words really. A say so hurtful that he loses sight of the words that hummed passionately in his conscious. A silence grew over him.
As the sun hits the horizon, the parade slowly dies out. The floats disappeared. The crowds disperse leaving their heap of litter behind. A large clean up crew are scatted around the long street gathering empty cups and fallen beads. The young kids lay asleep on their father's shoulders. The man in the oversized blue tank still dances to his own tune with a woman of the same age.
As the sun hits the horizon, the parade slowly dies out. The floats disappeared. The crowds disperse leaving their heap of litter behind. A large clean up crew are scatted around the long street gathering empty cups and fallen beads. The young kids lay asleep on their father's shoulders. The man in the oversized blue tank still dances to his own tune with a woman of the same age.
Out on the boardwalk, August sits alone on a bench. From far away, Melinda is seen walking away from the boardwalk - far far away from it. She enters a cab. August, practically destroyed, picks himself up and walks toward the exit ramp. In the silence, a couple of seagulls, who sat perched above him on the lamp, flee with a loud calling.
He trips on a stride and falls toward the ground. His fall slows down with the ground seemingly getting further away from him. The ground opens up to a black hole. He feels no fear of his end, upon seeing the darkness opening up below him. His fall throws him down hard through the abyss without a scream heard. At the bottom of the hole he sees a rough-looking cement ground lit by the street lamp from above. He looks down at the ground almost wanting to hit the ground sooner -- thinking if he'll ever land. He hits the bottom and in an instant, he awakens from his sleep.
August sits up in his bed with all sense of life and joy having faded away. He leans back on the bed, missing the woman he never met and feels the cold pavement of rock bottom as he lays among the shards of his broken heart.
the end.
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