Arcane Love

Chapter Six: Recur

"Then what happened?" She asked, her voice was filled with interest and concern which made it easier for Andrew to speak.

"I got angry,  I often get angry to hide other emotions. Aunt Madaline stood next to me, but said nothing, at least for a while. She was leaning on the railing and admiring the beautiful view."

"And what were you doing? I hope you were trying to calm yourself down."

"No," Andrew said very impulsively, "Actually, I did try. I always do, but I never can. But as time passes and so does my anger."

"Why do you get so angry when the past is spoken about?" She knew this question could go either way, but she needed to ask this particular question.

Andrew didn't utter a word this time, but he did seem to have zoned out. 

"Answer me," she tried to push him to speak, but it didn't work.

"No," Andrew said in a stern voice, "Forget about this. I need to go. Bye."

Andrew left the terrace in a hurry, but what was the hurry? Was there any work? There wasn't. He left because he didn't have an answer. 

Andrew walked the lonely streets, which a lonely heart, but a mind tangled with thoughts. He really didn't have anyone to talk to at that point in time. He was not in touch with his older friends, he couldn't speak to Aunt Madaline and he didn't want her sister to carry any unnecessary stress. Just when Andrew thought he was running out of options, he remembered his Uncle. 

Uncle Barry, he was a kind man Andrew had befriended in his early years of turning into a writer. Everyone in the family knew Barry and most of them liked him, but always had doubts that he was into bad things like drugs and was an alcoholic. 

Barry didn't carry a phone, but Andrew knew exactly where he'd find Barry: At the Bar. 

There weren't many bars in the locality and Andrew was quite sure about the fact that, Barry won't change the place where he goes to drink.  He walked till the bar, it wasn't always crowded, but tonight it was.

"What's going on?" Andrew asked one of the persons standing outside.

"Don't you know? It's the finals, mate."

Andrew had stopped watching football or any other sports, a long time ago and had no clue that it was the finals. He walked through the crowd and scanned the corner tables in hopes to see Barry, and so he did. That one man in his mid-50s, with short hair from the sides, and literally none in the centre, his blue denim was never out of fashion and his ways of socialising hadn't changed a bit. 

"Hey! Look here," Barry yelled as he got up from the table and waved at Andrew. The whole bar caught his attention and Barry said, "The fuck Y'all looking at? He's my son."

"Calm down, your son ain't going anywhere," the manager shouted, "Hey there, Andrew. It's been a while."

"Yes, it has."

 Andrew walked up till the table Barry was sitting on, and until then Barry had already paid the bill and was ready to leave.

Andrew was confused, "Why did you pay the bill?"

"Oh! Sorry. I didn't know that you were going to pay it," Barry burst out in laughter and wrapped his arms around Andrew. "It's been so long. wherein the world was you?"

"Somewhere. Now I'm here..."

Barry didn't let Andrew finish, he never let anyone finish, "Hell yes, you are. Let's get out of here."

Barry was an alcoholic, but he didn't behave like one. Even after drinking half of the rye; he still walked like a sober man and spoke like a sober man. 

Barry and Andrew left the bar, there was a small shop; from where Barry got his cigarettes. "Do you smoke?" He asked.

"No," Andrew's voice was hesitant, although, he was a very good liar, but he could never really lie to Barry. "I do. No one knows about it. And sorry, I couldn't keep up to the no smoking promise. The promise I made to Jessica and you."

"Don't be. Your life is fucked up, chill out. Here," Barry gave Andrew one of the many cigarettes he brought. 

They burnt their cigarettes and started to tread to a destination they were well aware of. Andrew seemed content, not because he got the cigarette, but because he didn't feel like a hopeless wanderer anymore. This was different, different than the other nights. He had company and knew where he was going. 

"So, tell me. What reminded me of you?" Barry asked.

Andrew wasn't the one to sympathise and tell Barry that he just wanted to meet, and nor did they have a relationship which needed it. The bond between them seemed so strong that the end of the world wouldn't be able to end it too.

"As you said, 'Your life is fucked up.' So it is."

"Oh!" Barry sighed, he knew each and everything about Andrew, from his friends to his family and his love to his hate, "Is this about your mother?"

"I wish it were, but no. it's about her."

"About her?" Barry seemed confused, but he was quick to understanding, and he understood, "Oh! Her." 

"Yes," Andrew's voice had lowered now, it almost seemed as if he would cry, and it was a possibility as Barry was one of the people who had seen him cry many times before.

"Here we are," Barry said as they walked closer to the broken benches under some shady looking tree, "Sit down." 

Andrew sat down, his cigarette had completely burnt now and he asked for another one. 

"Tell me. What about her?" Barry was a smart and rational man, he used this to work with feelings and emotions, and it apparently worked like a charm.

"After she went," Andrew took a deep breath in. It was as if he ran out of breath, but it was him trying to stop himself from crying.

"Cry it out. Do it, it will help." 

"No. Let me speak. After she went, everything has changed. I don't feel myself. Her loss has been heartbreaking and I missed her, I still do. It never decreased. It just increases, I fear one day it will increase in exponential levels, and I'll try to run away to her."

"Andrew, don't say that. Why do you want it to decrease? The memories with love are the best ones anyone could have, and you are privileged to live with them."

"True that, but these memories of love are killing me. Each day I live a little less, each day I miss her a little more and each day ends with blue memories." Andrew couldn't hold back his tears anymore, he tried hard not to, but the tears rolled down his eyes like the first drops of a raging storm.

"Jessica, she left me too. I cried for every minute of the day for two years. Everyone told me that she won't come back and I should move on, but no one ever said that she's left a part of her and I should keep it safe. A part of her, which is me."