Sheets of rain like tears from heaven. She wondered at the line…perhaps her mother had told her the words sometime.
Nowadays, as she reached her mid 30’s, her mother’s quaint terms came into her mind often. Theirs was not a typically suburban life, the one you find in books and movies, but grittier and much less romantic. Her father was an occasional intrusion, her mother harried, loving and full of strange advice. Yet, it had not been an unhappy childhood.
Today as she sat in the café, words came flowing from all directions. Her boyfriend had left with a note, not in his own words, but, taken from a Bob Dylan song – now this was so typical of him. It said, ‘It ain't no use in callin' out my name, gal, like you never did before. It ain't no use in callin' out my name, gal…I can't hear you any more.” Strangely she had laughed after reading it, not an original thought in his head, not even when it came to saying goodbye.
Here she was kind of reaching middle age alone, and reasonably happy, counting the men in her life. Her mother called them her, “romantic entanglements.” Everybody wondered why someone as attractive as her, “never found a man to marry.” How could you explain the fear of commitment, the need for space to stretch your soul and mind, and was it so bad to be alone?
It looked as if the rain would never stop; she had a sudden vision of Noah hurrying his way to the café, to choose two good human souls, the ones who would populate the future. Would he choose her, and if he did, who would he take as her mate? She looked around - who would she choose, that one- too corporate-handsome, and the other – too slick….
“See that’s your problem,” she scolded herself, “too hard to satisfy!”
Perhaps she should have stuck to her Fourth Grade sweetheart…he was nice enough!
“Oops, you are beginning to sound like Ally McBeal!” She said to herself, imagining her rather curvy figure as a much thinner…and even anorexic. “Too fond of pasta,” she told herself.
Freedom…she had no idea why the word entered her mind. The swing in the backyard, which seemed to have the power to reach the sky…as a child she felt it would. Sometimes she wondered if it would take her to space…to the moon… to Mars perhaps
Freedom meant so many things to so many people…in the French revolution it had stormed the Bastille's, the African Americans in the ‘60s; fought for right to ride on a bus without discrimination, and went on to win so much more. For women way back it meant the vote… for her it meant leaving behind the past. For everyone it had a different meaning…
Right now, it suddenly meant taking a walk…in the rain, wearing her business suit…and not caring about anything else apart from the magic of the moment…Freedom…was her call to take.