Take My Hand Susie

Seated very comfortably in a subway station, watching as the trains sped by, a blur, was a beautiful woman. As is the case with most beautiful women, she was approached by a stranger, a man. He gently requested her if he may sit next to her. She smiled and nodded. For reasons unknown the man felt shy, like a child, he blushed. Fortunately, it didn’t reveal much on his face. He took a moment and stared at her. She seemed lost, in a far-away land. He could see the reflection of the train as it passed in her hazel eyes, but she did not blink. Feeling that the moment was moving towards “awkward” he took his seat. He popped open a book and pretended to read, while watching her through the corner of his eyes. She seemed so still, calm, almost motionless except for the slight heaving of her chest as she took slow, deep breaths. She continued to stare ahead. Did she not notice him? What could this woman be so immersed in? He smiled, wondering how a woman he wanted to simply “hit on” ended up stirring up so much curiosity in him.

            Time passed by as he kept pondering, creating random theories in his head; some so ludicrous, they involved aliens. His every attempt to start a conversation failed miserably. He planned about how to start but the words wouldn’t come out. Every few minutes he would open his mouth but the words never came out. Some of the other waiting passengers gawked at him. Feeling embarrassed and slightly frustrated, he decided to withdraw into his book. Few sentences in, he realized there was no point. He was obsessing. He figured it would be best if he moved and sat somewhere else. But, he failed at this as well. He was too befuddled to move. He had to know and yet he didn’t want to know. The line between necessity and desire were now obscure to him. Not a word had been spoken and he was already spellbound. What was this sick, harmonious, deluded and calming magic? Nothing made sense. The gawkers were almost invisible to him. So lost he was, in the moment.

            A few minutes later a train stopped and the most amazing thing happened. She looked at him and smiled. It was the same smile she had given when she nodded earlier. She picked up her bag and walked, ever so gracefully, towards the door of the train. He couldn’t even respond to the smile. Was he so lost? Was he so confused if so, about what? The questions just filled his mind. The train whizzed by and his eyes followed, trying desperately to see her. The effort was of course in vain. Before he knew it, she was gone. He sighed, wishing he had had the courage to lift himself and take the train with her. Just to be near her. He continued to think of her, imagine her sitting next to him; attempting to weave the image, emotions and moment into his head. He suddenly noticed that she had left something behind, on her seat. There was a book, it looked like a diary. He stared at it wondering if he should keep it or leave it. He tapped his fingers on his lap as he contemplated on his next set of actions. The risk wasn’t high, it couldn’t be. She was a total stranger; she couldn’t possibly know how to find him. The chances of him meeting her again seemed too remote for him to worry. He took a deep breath and picked up the book. It was surprisingly lighter than he had expected it to be. The book was too thick for it to weigh so less. His head began pounding, every bone in his body was screaming, telling him to read it. He was never a curious man, and peering into the lives of others was not embedded into his moral code. The compulsion however, was too overwhelming. He decided to make it a win-win situation for his strict morals and his curiosity; he decided to read only the first page. He flipped open the cover, expecting to find a name or random scribbling but instead found a neatly printed sentence. It said, “All in due time” and nothing more. The thick book was empty. He stood still and flipped through the pages again just to confirm he hadn’t missed anything; nothing. Except for the one line, every page was blank. He shoved the book into his coat pocket and began walking out of the station. He knew, beyond reasonable doubt, the woman had left the book there for him. She intended him to read it. What was this trap he was falling into? What illusion was this strange magician playing? 

            It was only when he reached home (the memory of which failed him) did he realize that he had seen the woman before. He just couldn’t figure out where. Was he confusing himself? Was he creating a truth that may never have been, just to satisfy his growing hunger? Did he, in fact, know this woman? Six glasses of whiskey down, he had no patience or energy to think about it anymore. His bed beckoned, the night had grown weary. As strange a day he had had, he had to rest.

*******************

The school yard was bustling with little boys and girls, oblivious to the rationalized consequences of any of their actions; frolicking about the yard, noisy as ever. The boys rolled in the mud, played with the bugs and the girls were indulged in detailed conversations about which doll they should invite for tea. The hustle and bustle of playground life was not a major appeal to all the little kids though. Very few of the other kids noticed a small, chubby little three-year-old with hazel eyes firmly seated in the corner building sand castles in her head; even those who did notice, simply passed by. One of the girls was nice enough to invite her for tea with herself and a Barbie doll. The hazel-eyed wonderer shook her head, rather violently. The nice girl walked away gossiping with her Barbie in a language that no man knew.

This little three-year-old was Susie. Little Susie never liked to play much. To her the games were for the more active minded folk. She preferred to imagine what she could build if the sandbox, in which the boys were gleefully rolling in, was hers and hers alone. She never saw herself as selfish, as for one to be selfish one must have possessions. She did not. This young bird was a wee bit jealous of the other children. The spite was what kept her away. It was any other day, school, the playground and then home. She felt no need to change what she always did; wonder. It amused her. But, little Susie was in for a surprise that day, a surprise that would shake her world and break its very foundation.

It was an unusually bright day; the clouds were floating steady above their heads. Little Susie decided that the sandbox was boring and stared upward towards the clouds. She giggled as little girls do. One of the clouds was in the shape of a cat. She flopped backwards and lay there, staring as the cat floated by, then came a house, next something very similar to a car and the floating cumulus objects continued to roll on. Her eyes began to shut and the weariness of giggling and staring took its toll on young Susie. She dozed away into her Neverland; hopeful to find Peter-Pan and Wendy flying about and ever ready to foil Captain Hook’s notorious schemes. But Susie was awoken by a sudden jerk. She woke up groggy and startled; nonetheless she didn’t throw a tantrum. Above her loomed a figure. The figure wore a hooded cloak, a black cloak. Susie was already afraid, but nothing could have prepared her for what came next, the hooded figure showed her its face. It had none. It was blank and white. There were no eyes, no ears or a mouth; just plain white. Susie tried to scream but the sound wouldn’t come out. She did the only other thing she knew; she covered her face with both her palms hoping beyond hope that this frightening mist would float away, just like the cat, the house and the car did before she was washed over by the lullaby in the winds. She slowly lowered her hands, just enough so that she could see. It still stood there, tall and lingering.

“Do not be scared child” the mist said, in a distant voice. The voice was calming. It was a woman’s voice. The voice gave little Susie enough comfort and courage to fully lower her hands and stare at the faceless, hooded mist. “Take my hand Susie and let me show you why I have come” it said again in the same distant female voice. Susie knew that talking to strangers was a bad thing, but this voice was familiar. It was no stranger. It was just strange. The faceless mist extended a misty hand, or at least what looked like a hand. Susie pondered for a moment, her forefinger pressed to her lips, and then she reached out to the outstretched formless hand of the mist. It gripped her hand firmly and said, “Let’s take a walk”. Susie stood up and nodded, with a smile on her face.

*******************

He needed the day off. The hangover demanded it. He had never drunk so much; the previous day was just too much, although he failed to understand why. The book lay on his table, open. The words on the first page clear. “All in due time” it said. He stared at it, his mind completely blank. For no reason he flipped to the second page and he was shocked. There were words. He was certain that the page was empty the first time. How was this possible? He flipped through the remaining pages and they were all blank. Where did this appear from? He quickly scurried around his house, making sure everything was in order and that nothing was missing. He scratched his head and walked back slowly to his table. He picked up the book and read what was “newly” written:

Dear Howard,

I know this seems strange to you. There isn’t much I can do about it now. I am asking you to remember one thing, “All in due time”. Please don’t ever forget that; for my sake. I feel I am the luckiest person alive. I have known you all my life and now I have the opportunity to relive every moment again. You will understand what I am saying in the days to pass. For now, you must remain yourself. The mysteries of your life will unravel and I will be presented to you, but all in due time. Do not search for me else I will become but a figment of your imagination. You must do what you always do.

Love,

Susie

How on earth did she know his name? Was this some game? He began to think there was a hidden camera in the room. He never knew anyone named Susie and yet, she says she has known him her whole life. Howard looked around and found the whiskey bottle empty. “All in due time” he said to himself. He closed the book and his eyes simultaneously. Why was this happening to him? All he had wanted was a beautiful date for the upcoming weekend and now he had this to deal with. He needed some air. He got dressed and moved out into the street. It wasn’t crowded, it never was. It gave him room to think as he walked. His pace was steady initially but as his thoughts went deeper his pace became more and more irregular. All of a sudden, he was sitting in his room, glass of whiskey in his hand and the book propped open on the floor in front of him.

What does a man do, when he is instructed what not to do? He does what he shouldn’t. Howard, once again, got out of his house and ran to the subway. He went in search of the seat he had sat on the previous day. He kept searching and searching but couldn’t find it. The seat didn’t exist. He grabbed his hair with both hands. He was sure there was a seat where he stood. It wasn’t there anymore. Dejected, frustrated and confused Howard made his way back out of the subway. Just to make sure he was at the right place, he looked back and what he saw was both amazing and yet, impossible. There he was sitting on the seat and there she was right next to him, her gazing ahead. He had to be going mad. There was something in that book. He turned away and walked home.

He was lost. He was home, but he was lost. What did he see? He was certain he wasn’t dreaming, the prickling he felt from the cut on his thumb was enough to prove that. The book lay on the floor in front of him, and the knife beside it. He stared at it. He remembered tales his grandmother had told him about the world of black magic. He never believed in it but after what he saw today, he could believe anything. His breaths became heavier and he began to pace up and down his hallway, blood from his thumb dripping every few steps. Finally he had his conclusion. He picked up the book and flung it out of his window; thinking that there are some things that he just wasn’t ready for, nor did he ever want to be.

*******************

Susie, holding the hand of the mist, watched herself, from a distance, as she sliced the birthday cake in front of her. The cake had a nice fat candle propped on it, shaped as the number five. She was five. She witnessed her birthday as an invisible guest, courtesy of the faceless, hooded mist. She smiled as she watched herself feed her parents the cake. She giggled as she tore open her presents. She had gotten a bike; her first possession. She laughed as she watched herself play musical chairs with so many unknown faces. The mist pointed its face towards her, nodded and said, “We must keep moving child” and began to pull her, or so it seemed.

“Who are you?” Susie finally asked. After a two year journey with the mist, she realized she did not know who it was. Through her two year journey, she had seen everything; her new friends, her fourth birthday, her new toys and their new house as well. She stood witness to every event, every truth. Better still she had watched it happen. It made her happy to know she was her own guardian, her own fairy godmother. The mist turned towards her and bent down, “I am the one everyone knows, yet no one sees. I am the one who brings day and night, I am truth, and I am constant. I am Time, little one”. It took a while for Susie to process the statement. But a five-year-old could only wonder so much. She shrugged and asked, slightly abashed, “What should I call you?” and the mist replied, “Whatever you wish young one”. Susie stood silent as Time pulled her through the vortex of her years.

Susie was now thirteen. She watched as she fell in love for the first time, as she became more and more aware of her body and began to lose sense of who she was in an attempt to find herself. She had many friends by then and she was fairly an independent young girl. She knew how to handle her own work. Her grades varied through the year. She and her mother began arguing more. But why was Time showing her all this? She asked, “Why me?” and all Time had to say was, “All in due time dear one”. Susie did not understand this. There could not have been a more ambiguous answer. But she chose not to argue.

Time now moved her through her teen years and straight into her college years. Here she saw how lost she had really become. She understood, as she witnessed herself that the more people try to find themselves, the more they lose themselves. Time finally spoke, “You see young woman there is no meaning in seeking what is already yours. Finding yourself does not happen. How can you find something that is in you, that is you? As you yourself bear witness to yourself losing your way through the years, all the while hoodwinked by the tune of the pied-pipers flute” and Susie nodded. Time was here to teach her a lesson. She understood that it was not important to find who we are but to embrace who we are. Once we embraced ourselves, then there was nothing left to find. Any road taken became the “road less travelled”.

As Time continued to move her ahead in the vortex, she saw something that drew her interest; it stirred a joy she had never felt. There she sat at a subway station, watching the trains pass and a most handsome young man sat beside her. She saw how shy she was, how she wished to speak but could not. The man simply read his book. He seemed oblivious to her existence. She watched as the train arrived and she left, without saying a word to the man. Who was this man? She had to know. She slowly looked at Time, smiled and nodded.

*******************

It had been a week since Howard saw the diary of “doom”. He was finally recovering from the shock. His work was back on track, his life, back in order. However, at times Howard wished he hadn’t thrown out the diary of “doom”. It was the only thing in his life that made him feel special. Everything else was typical, at least it seemed so. Howard sat, randomly scribbling on his notepad, in a board meeting. He wasn’t a board member, but he was part of a team that was involved in a new product design and he needed to give a presentation. It was most uninteresting, yet indispensable to his work.

Howard slowly took the “stage” and began to explain the market significance and the future benefits of this new-age product. As he went on, droning through the slides and the pictures, he could have sworn he heard a voice. He paused momentarily and looked at the board members, waiting to see if anyone had indeed called him; they merely blinked. He shook his head slightly and continued speaking. Once again he heard it. It was distant, a woman’s voice. He broke off again and looked at the board members again, who continued to maintain their vow of silence. It was then that he realized, there wasn’t a female board member. These were not people who would pull a prank. Was this the diary of “doom” again? He shrugged it off and rushed through the remainder of his presentation. He then told his superior that his mother was unwell and he needed to leave urgently.

Twenty minutes later, he was on the subway back to the station where it all happened. The diary of “doom”, the mystical beauty and his life’s most significant turning point. His stop arrived and he got off the train, wondering about the distant, female voice he had heard. As he walked along the subway his attention was pulled towards the seat he had sat on a week ago beside the mystical beauty; the seat where he had found the diary of “doom”. There it was. Exactly where he had run to, exactly where he had seen himself seated next to her. How was it back? He took off towards it. As he approached the seat, it began fading away and just as he reached the spot it disappeared. He dropped his bag and sighed, ruffling his hair. He slowly began to laugh. He recalled the words from the letter in the second page of the diary: “Do not search for me else I will become but a figment of your imagination” and continued to laugh, quite hysterically.

He was home, drowning in questions, dazed by the events over the last week. Though he remained calm, at least as calm as a man could be in his situation, he was internally disturbed; his life now blown open. To Howard it seemed amusing that his head would spiral out of control in such a split-second. All the signs of mental illness, yet something deep within him knew that he was not “sick” in any way whatsoever. He knew the reality of his experience. He wished he hadn’t thrown the diary away. It wasn’t “doom”, it was priceless. It would have been his secret, the one he would repeat to himself whenever he felt in doubt or questioned his being. He heard it again. This time the voice was not so distant. It was closer, much closer. It was a whisper in his ear. Howard suddenly had the gut feeling to move towards his table. It was as if someone’s heartbeat was calling him. Just as he thought it, there it came, a soft thudding from the first drawer in his desk. It was just like a heartbeat, so much so, Howard was certain it couldn’t have been anything else. He slowly moved towards the desk, every step becoming lighter, as if expecting the drawer to burst into flame, and he pulled the drawer open and there it lay, unscathed and brand new, the diary; the one that was priceless.

Howard picked up the book. It was heavier than he remembered. He began to flip the pages and sure enough, there was another entry. Howard read the words he had been both dreading and hoping to:

Dear Howard,

I know you heard me today. I called out to you and you were searching for me. I was in the room with you, you probably didn’t see me. That’s ok though. You don’t seem to enjoy your work very much do you? I can relate, though I seem to enjoy it a little bit more than you do. I know that this is still weighing heavy on you but, like I said, please remember “All in due time”. Everything has its place in this universe and so do we. Please hold on; for my sake.

Love,

Susie

Howard read and re-read the letter. This time he was sure there were other forces at play. He still had doubt in his mind. Was this worth it? Could this be real? The possibility of insanity could not be ruled out completely yet for Howard. But, he decided to give it a try. There was a fragment of his sane mind that believed this could be real and hence he stuck to his decision. The priceless diary stayed.

*******************

Time had now brought Susie to her elder years. It was peaceful, away from the hustle and bustle. Just the way little Susie imagined it to be. She lived on a farm, rearing the sheep and cattle along with a nice corn paddy. The acres of land surrounded her with scenic beauty and nothingness. The silence kept her from going senile. At sixty, Susie still had the energy of a twenty-year-old and the innocence of a three-year-old.

Susie watched, holding the hand of Time, as the aged reflection that she would be living milked the cattle, and fed the sheep. She watched herself walk through the corn fields; her hands gently brushing the tall grass, its softness making her feel light. “Take my hand Susie and this is where you will be. For Time I am constant and everything around me moves. Let me guide you through the haze in your life and let me steer you away from the obstacles. For when you stand still, you will fail to move past the moments and when you fail to proceed, I am powerless. You must promise me, to walk beside me. Every instance of your life is a fragment of a puzzle which has been cleverly designed by yourself. I am merely here to pull you through it all. One day you will rest and that day, you will see me again in all my glory. I am omnipresent and I cannot be moved from my purpose, for my purpose is to move everything else. Fear nothing; I am here to carry you above the dark clouds above the skies you know. As I lift you only the comfort lies beneath your feet and the gateway to peace is but a moment away. Cherish that moment and you shall remain there”

Susie was about to ask about to ask about the man at the station, when he stepped out of the house, ran towards her reflection and embraced her, arms wide open. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Life seemed so perfect, yet she had seen herself focus on the imperfections. She had been stuck so many times in the moments she least wanted in her life. For Time to teach her such a powerful, valuable and lasting lesson, she was gratuitous.  The faceless, hooded mist slowly disappeared and the vortex was reversed. She aged backwards, and she saw all the moments in rewind. “Thank you” she whispered as she closed her eyes.

Susie awoke in the playground. The children were still frolicking around. She stared at the sky and saw a cloud in the shape of a cat. She would have giggled, but something changed inside her. She had been here before. She knew this cloud; she had heard the sounds before. Why was it all so familiar? Had she dreamt it all before? Alas, how much could a three-year- old, chubby little girl who built sand castles in her head know? For when the moment passed it was time for her to go home and build her own life. One day she would be five and she would have her first bike, one day thirteen and she would fall in love, one day twenty and lost; so much time, yet so little.

*******************

The alarm rang hard. Howard woke up, groggy and hung-over.  His work demanded his drinking. He had it under control, though not entirely. He quickly got ready for work. He was off to the subway in no time and on the way to work. The train ride was mundane as it always was. Work itself was mundane, as it always was. He kept at it with the thought of it putting food on the table. Howard was a practical man who really didn’t have a passion for much. He imagined retiring on a farm, rearing sheep and cattle and a nice corn paddy. He wanted to retire well. He had a lot of fun with his life. He had many experiences. The train stopped at one of the stops on his way to work and a woman wearing a black coat walked in, yelling on the phone. Howard found this extremely familiar. He was easily able to guess her next words. He shrugged it off as a strange déjà vu.

Through his day of work, Howard found many instances that seemed familiar, to an odd degree. He had heard the exact same words spoken by random people. The conversation at lunch seemed even more familiar. This was the exact same conversation he had had before. He just couldn’t remember when. He was predicting everyone’s dialogues even before they said it; in his head of course. The coincidence was uncanny. He was inclined to believe he had been here, in these situations, before. Maybe he was reliving a day. He shrugged it off as a severe déjà vu.

The return train journey was tiresome and Howard took a small nap. When his station was announced he woke up startled and slowly left the cabin. Usually he would walk straight to the exit. For some reason he decided to take the longer route; possibly to have a cup of coffee before he started the long walk home. As he walked, humming a song to himself, he turned his head to one of the most beautiful sights in his life. There she sat, head facing the train as it left. He had to know her. The urge was unusually colossal. As he walked around the seat, he realized that it indeed was the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on. Howard gently requested her if he could have a seat. She smiled and nodded; her hazel eyes ablaze with youthful energy and wonder. He took a seat next to her and pondered on how to engage in conversation. He took one more look at her and he knew what he had to say.

“You look rather familiar miss. Do I know you from somewhere?” he asked, cautiously and courteously. She turned towards him and smiled and said “I’m not sure sir. But, I must say you do look rather familiar yourself”. Howard was pleased with the response. They engaged more in conversation. They discussed books, each other’s childhoods, work and hobbies. Her train arrived and she stood up to leave. She looked at Howard again, smiled and nodded once again her hazel eyes drew all his attention and he forced a smile.

He waited for her train to leave, half deciding to jump on at the last moment. But, he was never a desperate man and he wasn’t going to start then. Just as he was about to leave he noticed she had left something behind, on her seat. It was a card. He picked it up and on it was written her name, Susie and below it was written her number. Howard smiled to himself. “What a day” he said to himself and took leave from the station and began his long walk home.

*******************

Little did either of them know that forty years from them, they would be living on a farm, rearing cattle and sheep with a nice corn paddy. Time has a funny way of playing its game. Familiarity is never a coincidence, what’s familiar is known. How could what’s known be coincidence? The rarity of those moments is what makes it worth the wait. Time is the father of patience. His twisted game would always result in a joyful result. Allow Time to guide and watch as it moves the pieces around and completes the puzzle that is our lives. The mist loomed nearby, its hood drawn down, its faceless form floating about, watching all, hearing all. Its purpose is eternal and constant.