Continued from last week…
He frowned at the contrast between the beautiful glowing face and the image depicted by the tattoo. How could the two exist together? Talking of discrepancies, this day seemed to present more than just one illustration on the matter. He felt like one lost in a hostile wilderness going round and round in circles of motion with no progress.
“Are you okay sir?” Came the gentle voice underlined with delicate innocence that caused his heart to race fast.
“Oh yes…I’m…well, I’ll be ok. I’m fine. Really. Thanks for asking!” He responded hurriedly, almost embarrassed. He rubbed his eyes vigorously as he went for his cup of tea, fumbling nervously over the handle for a moment as the sweet pair of ebony eyes set on the adorably smiling face before him flooded his face with intense wonder. The damsel walked gracefully back into the house, gently holding the empty tray with both hands as a warm stream of tears rapidly sprung up his eyes. How could such dominance as engraved in his core be so utterly humbled before a child like presence? One more discrepancy for the day! What was it? This paramount substance securely hidden from him. So close yet so far away. If it could so effortlessly dwell in an infant, why was it so hard to see? He felt cornered. Numbed. All control utterly drained off him. There were more questions than answers which only made it worse on the sum total of the equation.
“It’s that tattoo again, isn’t it?!”
Came the familiar voice of his wife as she joined him at the balcony, a half glass of milkshake in her hand. He was quiet for a prolonged moment.
“Some things defy meaning, explanation and reason, Joannah. This is one of them!”
Came the well thought out, well articulated response. He gently pressed his white handkerchief against his eyes.
“I guess you have a point honey.” She responded calmly, trying not to interrupt his train of thought.
“When it’s elusively beyond your control, it might not hurt much to reach out.” She continued. “There are no guarantees I know but at this point it’s the one safe unexplored option on the table. Who knows what could happen?”
“No one. Absolutely no one.”
He stared keenly at the sky as if convinced his answer was roving somewhere up there. He seemed like one in need of a power telescope to get a real good glimpse of it…in a desperate bid to secure meaning, explanation and reason.
“No one knows what could happen for sure. It bothers me though that the answer doesn’t seem quite within my realm or control. The tragic possibility that I have attained all else but what matters most scares me to death.”
“We will never know until we try, Joe.” Her voice was laden with a tone of finality.
“No we won’t. Please get me my private phone. I need to call the president.”
Tattoos! Joe the seeker was almost at a loss coming to terms they had something to do…everything to do with his all important voyage. He had never personally esteemed them. They seemed such a common art feature he found it fictional the claim this particular tattoo was exclusive in heritage. He felt his spirit calm down at the flash back of Joannah’s consoling remarks as his entourage made a grand arrival at destination: “We will never know until we try, Joe!” His course had been smooth with his elaborate motorcade accorded full VIP status. He caught a glimpse of the presidential seal on the envelope as he handed it over to the artiste’s aide at hand to receive him and wondered how come they had not mounted a guard of honor for him on such a special occasion as this! The President would hear of it!
He prepared himself to meet the artist whom he expected to flamboyantly emerge shortly. As minutes ticked by, his mood began to drift to anxiety. In the end, it was the aide who reemerged, a pair of swimming goggles in his hand, bearing the most weird and repulsive set of instructions he had ever received in his entire active life. He was certain beyond doubt that he was way too far from an artist. One thing he was sure of though; tattoos had nothing to do with swimming! And if there was a remote chance they did, then it all had absolutely nothing to do with third class swimming pools. Not when he had left a variety of first class swimming pools back at home. Besides, artistes were supposed to have noses and not fins. It took the concerted effort from his optimistic team of aides to restrain him from the fits of rage that consumed him.
“We will never know until we try, Joe!… Some things defy meaning, explanation and reason, Joannah. This is one of them!… When it’s elusively beyond your control, it might not hurt much to reach out. Are you okay sir? Sir? Sir?…“It’s that tattoo again, isn’t it-it-it-it?!” He felt so sure the world was at the verge of collapsing. An appointment with an artist under the water? He would personally report this to the President! He shook his head in dismay.
It was turning out just as he had feared. Beyond his realm and control. He was experiencing a steel barrier right then. Right there. With one last infuriated glance at the lone aide, he fitted the goggles on tossed himself into the pool’s deep end!
As he came up the shallow end, devoid of all meaning, explanation and reason,all gazed intently to see what had become of his skin’s terminal predicament. The lone aide strained under heightened expectancy to have a vivid look at his upper arm for the elusive enigma; a seal… Like a man of sorrows. Despised. Esteemed not. Of all watching, including Joe now graciously lifting himself up over the rail, one amazing spectacle unified them in facial expression: Breathtaking awe!
And so as it evidently turned out that day, there stood out that great mystery of all times, once concealed, now revealed, securely holding the chords of life together. Like a bride on a bright sunny D-day morning she patiently stands still, eagerly awaiting the grand moment of unveiling, for the kiss of grace that completes humanity in perfect love.
© The Blazing Trail 2012
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