The Forgotten Love ✔

20 Dannie

Dannie POV.

On the first day of May, I take a four-hour flight from Pennsylvania to Mississippi. Asher has been studying locally for a while; he wanted to pick me up, but I insisted that studying was more important.

I take a long bus ride from the airport, then transfer to a public bus, and finally walk until I see Asher in the mountains.

The station is a bit far from the city. We chat while walking on the field path. The sky is full of stars.

I have a lot of luggage, and Asher helps me carry the suitcase.

The next second, he takes a deep breath, "What did you bring with you?"

"Books, notebooks, clothes," I reply.

He looks at my backpack skeptically, "And this?"

"Food," I say.

"What kind of food can last this long?" he wonders.

"Snacks," I admit straightforwardly, "I brought them for the children... and some for myself."

Asher glances at me and can't help but laugh.

There are few people in town, but Asher has informed the mayor beforehand, so they welcome us together.

They are initially surprised when we walk in with muddy feet, then quickly help us move our bags and provide water for us to clean up.

I'm not used to such warmth; I keep saying no need to bother, I can handle it myself, while Arthur just smiles next to me.

For dinner, we go to the principal's house. There's only one school in town, with over thirty children. The principal briefs me on the situation of school at the dinner table; his English isn't very standard, so Asher occasionally translates for me.

Afterward, I go to stay in the teacher's dormitory they've prepared for me, and the next morning, I officially start teaching.

A few days later, I realize that it's not very busy here most of the time. The principal can handle classes, and Asher sometimes helps too.

Just then, a few new children came to the school. They come from far away on Monday mornings to attend classes and stay in town, and return home on weekends.

Their homes are in a more remote mountainous area; there used to be a school there, but the only teacher found life too hard and quit.

So I tell the principal that I can teach there. It's too difficult for the children to walk here, crossing streams and climbing mountains. If it rains and the water rises, the road will be cut off.

I can live there directly; not just art, I can teach other subjects too.

The principal worries that I won't be able to handle the hardship, but Asher is very supportive. He admiringly says, "Dannie, you're my role model."

I pack up and leave.

The classroom in the mountains is in a poor state. I use my own money to buy bricks and tiles from the town far away, and the villagers help me haul them back, then we repair the classroom together.

There are only six students here, small and skinny, looking up at me as if I were an angel.

I'm a bit shy, not sure how to communicate with them. All I can do is divide my snacks evenly among them, then secretly leave an extra bag of chips under my pillow.

I continue to keep in touch with the principal, asking about his progress with the curriculum, and then prepare my own lessons for the children.

Everything goes smoothly, except the food here is very poor, mostly pickled meat and vegetables.

I start to miss the fresh food of the big city.

I miss Anthony too; back in New York, we often drank together and talked about art.

I also miss the two cats in Pennsylvania, although Asher tells me his mother is taking good care of them.

I even miss David a little bit. It's not a strong feeling, just on a clear morning, i look at the white clouds in the sky, and his name suddenly comes to mind.

After texting him that I'd arrived safely and everything was fine, he replied "Ok," and we haven't contacted each other since.

He must be very busy now, in a bustling place like Manhattan, dressed in suits, mingling with the elite of society.

I'm glad his life is back on track, and I'm also glad for the peace within myself.

On the other hand, Anthony occasionally brings up news about David to me. Anthony says his gallery is hosting a new exhibition, and David showed up.

He says David doesn't look well now, with dark circles under his eyes, almost like a panda.

I pause for a moment and say, "He must be busy making money."

Anthony replies, "This way he won't have to miss you."

I fall silent.

I lie on the small bed in the dormitory, gazing at the moon outside the window.

A few seconds later, I hear Anthony say, "David said he didn't want to disturb you, so he came specially to ask if I've had any contact with you."

"Really? How did you respond?"

"I said you were fine." Anthony pauses, and continues over the phone, "This is the third time he's come to see me. Dannie, I think he really love you."

I look at the moon outside and change the subject: "I have to teach my students tomorrow morning. Goodnight."

The next time I contact Anthony, he says David is sick.

Anthony jokingly says over the phone, "He won't show up at the gallery these days."

I'm a bit surprised.

David isn't seriously ill; the doctor diagnosed him with fatigue.

But Anthony uses the most miserable words he can think of to describe David's current condition over the phone, and he even suggests that I return to New York to see David and give him a surprise.

I hang up the phone and look at the rain outside.

With this kind of weather, it would take me two days to get from the mountains to the airport. By the time I get off the plane and see David, he'll have recovered.

And David has always been healthy. Every time I was exhausted in bed, he still wanted to disturb me.

But after I hang up the phone, I still send David a text: "Are you okay?"

Then my phone signal suddenly turns gray, the message turns into a draft, lying in my phone.

After that, even the electricity is cut off.

The rain keeps falling, the river rises, flooding the classroom floor. My students and I have to take shelter in the homes of villagers on higher ground.

Everyone hopes the rain will stop the next day.

But the situation is worsing day by day, and the village becomes completely isolated.

The adults in the village gather for a meeting, and I suggest temporary relocation. On one hand, no one can predict how high the water will rise, and on the other hand, the mountains could collapse at any time. This could be a once-in-a-century flood, and no one can predict the worst-case scenario.

After discussing, everyone agrees with me, but someone has to go to the town to contact them.

A villager who is the best swimmer volunteers to take the risk for the sake of the whole village. He disappears completely in the vast river, but when he reappears on the shore, he is no longer alive.

Death casts a shadow over the entire village, and the young wife of the villager weeps for her husband. Her cries echo in the night, mixed with the sound of heavy rain, and sound very mournful.