by C. W. Smith © 2006
The young woman sat on the steps that led into the back of the hotel. She appeared to be waiting for someone or perhaps enjoying the afternoon sun while she still could. In the coming month, the air would start turning chilly and sitting outside would no longer be an option. The day was wonderfully warm and bright under the clear blue sky. It was early, with plenty of time remaining to enjoy the sunshine.
That afternoon when I came back to the hotel to have lunch, I could not help but notice she remained sitting in the same place. The distant look I saw on her face I realized had been there before, but I did not notice it, as others may have missed it as well. Then again, the afternoon was just ending so the sun had not started to set. I thought it was possible that she was merely enjoying the sun for a final time as perhaps her vacation was ending soon.
Later that evening as I was leaving to get dinner, the young woman still occupied her concrete perch; still, her vigilance of the parking lot was unending. Animation and vigilance appeared to be perfect strangers as she sat, pensively surveying each car that drove by as well as each person who came into view. Still, she studiously seemed to avoid a glance or a friendly 'hello'. Although not yet chilly, mid-September evenings could be a little cool. She wore sandals, red hip hugger pants and a short, midriff-baring blouse that was on the sheer side. I could easily imagine she might be getting a little uncomfortable sitting on the cement in the evening air.
Ten hours after I first saw her, well past midnight, she abruptly stood and walked back into the hotel using her key card. As I held the elevator door open for her, she spoke her first words of the evening that I recalled hearing her say. She said a simple ‘Thank you' and nothing more. The look on her face was sad, almost painful and I realized she was ready to go out on the town and not merely to pass the day sitting outside. Her makeup was glittery and belied her age. However, if she was twenty, she had only just made it there. Her cheeks held visible marks of something that had apparently run down and washed away some of her make-up. Smears pointed to where she had evidently wiped that something away. Tears? I could only wonder. Was there a certain someone who had promised to come and take her out, and then did not?
During the next several days, I did see her a few times again, though she never sat outside like the day I first saw her. We never spoke to each other again, she was just another person that passed through my life like so many others have in the past and will in the future.
Some things, a person can only wonder about and never know. Still, Hope sits and waits patiently.
END
C.W. Smith is the publisher and editor of the online Magazine, The Write Side Up.