A Warm Friday Night
All is quiet around us except for a few isolated chirps and croaks, and a few stray cars rumbling by. Hand in hand, we make our way down the hill, feeling the gentle breeze swish past us. We talk quietly about this and that, yielding to the natural ebb and flow of the conversation, not bothered by brief moments of silence because we are already way past that point. As we walk past the nearby senior nursing home, I notice a few residents sitting out on the patio above us, talking. One of them suddenly laughs out loud, a hearty laugh that ripples through the air and reaches our ears. For amoment, I wonder what it is they are talking about that had triggered this deep, genuine laugh. I admire the fact that the laugh is coming from someone who is already past the prime of her life, burdened with memories, experiences, andlessons of her past, with no where to go but downward, yet is still able to see joy in life.
I snap back to reality as I feel the grip on my hand tighten and pull me closer towards him. We are about to cross the street, and a car with piercingly bright headlights has just whizzed past us unyieldingly.
“Wasn’t he supposed to stop for us? It’s a crosswalk.”
“Yeah…” I shrugged, and we mused for awhile about the sheer number of drivers here whocouldn’t care less about running over a pedestrian.
We continue around a bend to a darker, even quieter part ofthe neighborhood. I hear a sudden rustle in front of us that stops me in my tracks.
“Shhh!” I pull on his hand to stop him from going any further.
“What isit?” He strains to see what I’m point at.
A deer has just run across a narrow path in front of us, her partner close behind her.
The young stag sees us and freezes. For a moment, it seems as if time has frozen, too, as the three of us stand there staring at each other in awe. Breathlessly, I take in the silhouette of his sleek yet strong body and his sturdy antlers, not yet fully developed but already standing tall and proud. He gazes back at me so intently that for a moment, it almost seems as if he is about to charge in our direction. Then, in a flash, he is gone.
“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever been so close to a deer before.” His voice breaks the trance that I’m in.
“He was beautiful…” I say softly, more to myself than to him, wondering if he had felt the magic that I had felt.
Because what else but magic can explain the courageous manner in which the stag had risked his own safety to ensure that his beloved one reached safety first? I suddenly remember the crosswalk and the firm yettender way he had grasped my hand to keep me from walking straight into the speeding car. And now it dawns on me that that must have been magic, too. Magic for two tiny characters to be able to find each other in a sea of a million people and to fall in love.
We finally reach the shopping plaza at the bottom of the hill, our stomachs growling from hunger that had increased exponentially with each step of our trek. As the sushi restaurant, our destination, comes intoview, I start to understand why and how the elderly woman could laugh such a hearty laugh.
On a warm Friday night, in a town so quiet and subdued that it barely feels like a Friday night, where there are no parties to go to, no clubs or karaoke bars, I realize that I couldn’t be happier.
Because happiness is not luxury or flamboyance or excitement,but rather, it is when you have someone with whom even the most commonplace things such as a short evening stroll are filled with joy and laughter.
