The Meeting

Meeting An Old Friend

It was a Saturday like any other Saturday. I had woken up, shaved,brushed my teeth, had a shower and then I decided to go for a walk. It was a slightly cloudy day. The sun wasn't very bright either. Nor was it very hot. Everything seemed quite pleasant.

I had decided to go down to the park nearby and jog there for a bit. Keeping fit and all of that - you know! As I turned the corner, I suddenly Saw a face. Such a familiar one too! Wasn't that John? My old school pal? Yes, yes it did look like it! It had been so long ago that I had last seen him! His face had aged. Quite gracefully, I must say. He had some wrinkles around his eyes and somehow overall he just looked older... His sandy hair was cropped short and he had got flecks of white in it, But his blue eyes remained unchanged. "John?!" I exclaimed in surprise as we came closer. "Is that you?"

He stopped, blinked, stared at me for a moment, confused, then- recognition grew on his face, "Smith!" he said. "Well isn't this a happy coincidence! I was just on my way to see if you still lived here!"

"Well I do!" I remarked. " How have you been? Last I heard, you were in Iraq following Her Royal Majesty's orders." John was a soldier and for many years he had served in the British army. "Wait, Why don't we talk this over a cup of tea?"

John smiled. "I'd like that." We walked back to my house.

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"I'll put the kettle on" I said. "Just a moment." I filled the electric kettle with water and put the switch on to allow the water to boil. As I waited I went back to talk to John. He was sitting in the sofa in the living room. It seemed quite untidy but then again, my job wasn't one to allow long breaks - not that I had too many visitors anyway.

"Still no wife then it seems." he said looking around. "Are you ever going to settle down, old man?"

I laughed. "Not everyone finds the right one as fast as you did John. Some of us take longer." He chuckled. "What about you John? Are you retiring? Army life proved to be too harsh, huh?"

"Well, in a way, you could say that I am. It turns out, being out there on the front lines is hazardous to your health!"

We laughed and chatted a while about our school days, over tea. Before we knew it morning had turned to afternoon. "You must stay for lunch" I told him. "I've made a special Indian curry"

"Still at it with the cooking then are you Chef Smith?" John said. Chef Smith being my nickname from school as i had discovered my passion for food as early as back then. "I'd love to!"

It's a funny thing to meet up with an old friend after a long time. Memories resurface. Anecdotes of our school-days. Teachers who had a lasting impact. Even the mad things we did as children. All of these and various other nostalgia inducing themes presented themselves in conversation that afternoon and were discussed at length over bowls of spicy curry and chicken.

Finally when lunch was over and our stomachs filled to the brim, John said, "Well old pal, it's been great but i really mustn't impose upon your hospitality any longer. The folks at home are also probably waiting, I really must go. Thanks for lunch mate."

"Do you still live in that big old house by the burnt bakery?"

"Yes."

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That evening after he left I was clearing out the cups and things when I noticed a watch lying on the side table John was sitting at. It was one from our school days. A real beauty. Elegance crafted in metal. All the boys envied him for owning it, including me. Our measly timepieces could never measure up to the greatness of this watch. Knowing how much John loved this watch of his I decided to take it back to him.

I went over to the house I knew from memory. The burnt bakery had been converted into a clothing store. I walked over to the pea green door and knocked. A lady came out, eyes red. "I'm looking for John Thomas." I said.

She burst into tears and sobbed as I stood there bewildered. A man came running out, "John?! What do you want with John?" He seemed neurotic. I asked, "Is anything the matter? Look I'm an old school friend of John's, did something happen to him?"

"John is dead!" the lady burst out. "He died of a gunshot to the chest while fighting in Iraq!"

"What?!" I was shocked. "No! How? When...?" my voice trailed of weakly.

The man replied, "This Thursday. His body was shipped back home. It arrived today."

"Not all who wander are lost" - J. R. R. Tolkien