A Distant Love

Godzilla stood, as always - alone, aloof, commanding. Even the two old ladies in front of me were giving him the eye. I couldn’t blame them. He hadn’t changed that much since school except now he wore a long, black leather coat instead of a school blazer and had swapped his school shirt and tie for a black polo neck. His jeans were black too (almost the colour of his hair), making him look even taller than he really was. One thing had changed since school: unbelievably, he looked even more gorgeous – and he knew it!

The line at the boarding gate started to move slowly. I automatically shuffled up, arms full of coat and duty-free books and CDs. I wondered what Godzilla was doing here at Heathrow. Was he visiting or did he live here, returning home like me? Was he married? Would he remember me? I doubted it. He had been a senior and I, along with his sister Anna, had been the first year juniors. He had never once deigned to look at me, much less speak to me at school.

Everyone, it seemed, was in love with Godzilla. Girls, juniors and seniors, followed as unobtrusively and worshipfully as they could as he led his entourage across the quad. Teachers smiled and greeted him like an old friend while he made an almost human response to them.

Boys wanted to be him, or be like him or just be liked by him. And I stood and watched, trying to figure out whether I actually liked him or not, as the news reached the quad that Godzilla had changed into his sports kit. The quad emptied in almost the blink of an eye. Anna would nudge me out of my reverie and make some laughing remark about her brother. I’d laugh with her until Mouse and Kieran strolled by - Kieran with a friendly greeting, Mouse with a benign smile. Anna would greet them back, used to her big brothers’ friends while I’d blush and be silent. I wasn’t used to non-related males speaking to me.

A smiling hostess greeted me, took my boarding pass and said something. I nodded in non-comprehension and dutifully set off after Godzilla and the two old ladies.

“Snap out of it, girl. You’re not in school anymore,” I scolded myself, walking a bit quicker – deciding to ignore Godzilla and any other distractions on the flight home. I had a book to complete.

The fates have a strange sense of humour,I discovered less than three minutes later when the host directed me to my seat - the window, with Godzilla on the aisle. I stopped at his boots, smiled a sickly smile, showed him my pass (like it was some kind of talisman) and squeaked, “That’s me.”

He grunted and slid off up the aisle (not a man of many words, our Godzilla) and stood by as I struggled my bags and coat into the overhead luggage bin, fumbled my travelling scarf, my book and my water, and finally dropped onto my seat. I quickly rescued my water bottle, which had escaped and rolled to a rest against his boots, avoiding his no doubt disdainful look.

I had nicknamed him Godzilla for what seemed to be perfectly logical and clever reasons for a 14 year old. Godzilla = God + Zilla. God because he looked like a Greek God of love and Zilla because he was said to strike terror into the hearts of lesser seniors and juniors with a mere glance. That and his apparent lack of personality, from my careful observations.

I tried to settle into my seat, then grabbed the in-flight mag and riffled through the entertainment section. Just my luck if they were screening Godzilla the movie on this flight. I remembered watching the movie with huge enjoyment and wondering how the monster’s jaw had looked so like my own Godzilla’s. He shifted beside me and it took all of my will power not to look up and flick my hair, which was acting as a curtain and screening his torso from me.

And then we were preparing for take-off. Stowage check, locked doors, demonstration, taxi, excitedly looking through the windows at the runway racing along, the kick of lift-off with the miniscule feel of weightlessness before we banked into the skies. I gave a small sigh and turned back to the mag.

*      *      *

Sometime earlier back at the airport:

I had spotted her in disbelief – her I still wanted to marry. She was almost hidden behind the perfume bottles – looking and smelling, but obviously not ready to buy yet. She had always been that way, even back in school. A major character flaw, my sister Anna had insisted, but I preferred to think of it as discretion or taste.

She had grown into quite a beauty, filling out from an awkward gawkishness into a slim, assured woman. She still had that timeless grace and quiet assurance that had always set her apart from the other girls. Only she could juggle two huge HMV bags, a Waterstone’s bag and a huge coat so gracefully. I found myself wanting to kiss her. What was she doing in Heathrow? Was she visiting or did she work here? Was she married? Please don’t let her be married! I couldn’t believe I was praying after all these years – and acting like a kid again.

My phone buzzed. Annoyed, I was curt with Amanda. ”Yes?”

“Just wanted to wish you a safe trip, Zach!”

Typical, but it thawed me out as usual. At least one female cared about me. “Sorry,” I apologised, “I’m just, uh…” Then inspiration struck. “Amanda, can you do me a favour?”

“Is it legal?”

“Um, yeah. Could you look up Jane Donne for me? She was four years behind me at school.”
While I gave Amanda all the details I could remember, Jane disappeared. Some things never changed. She seemed as magical as ever.

And then she appeared again and was now sitting right next to me! Was this what Anna called Destiny? Whatever happened I couldn’t let this chance go…

She was looking calmly at the in-flight magazine – a curtain of shiny hair hiding her face. I tried to clear my throat and think of something arresting and intelligent to say.
I shifted uncomfortably, staring at her, willing her to look at me so I could at least smile at her. She didn’t. And then we were readying for take-off.

She was reading her book when the host and hostess came by with the drinks. She took tea. I took coffee. I had to speak before she got stuck in her book again. The flight was only eight hours long and we were already 45 minutes into it!

*      *      *

I almost spilt my tea when he spoke to me in that lovely dark chocolaty voice. “What?” I asked stupidly.

He smiled a surprisingly warm smile and repeated, “I’ve been trying to remember when last I’d seen you. You’re Anna’s friend, Jane, aren’t you?”

I was stunned, just managing to nod. I cleared my suddenly dry throat. “How is she? I haven’t seen her since school.”

“She’s fine. Married with two kids.”

“Really, Wow!” I half turned in my seat to face him more comfortably.

“And you?”

He was looking at me in a way that made breathing difficult and my thoughts irrationally slide towards wedding bells and kids of my own…

“I’m divorced. Two years now.” He smiled a self-satisfied smile.“And yourself?”

“Never been married,” he smiled softly, “Been waiting for the right person to come back into my life.”

“Oh.” I wondered who it might be. ”Anyone I know?”

He nodded, still smiling at me. My heart began to race. He really was lovely. And it seemed he might have grown a personality after all.I realised I was feeling an irrational jealousy over whomever he was planning to marry. Who could it be? Priscilla, Nancy, Janine. They were the prettiest, cleverest girls in school.

“Who?” I asked.

Godzilla leaned towards me conspirationally. He was grinning now, enjoying our conversation, heedless of the devastation he was causing me.

“You.” He whispered tenderly and kissed me.

I didn’t realise I’d dropped my tea, until he jumped up and roared in pain, almost biting my lip. The hostess came running over, the security guy drew his gun, and everyone stared at what proved to be the greatest drama on that flight, much to my mortification.

Godzilla was amazingly gracious, considering his burns. He wouldn’t accept my apologies without a kiss. Which proved very addictive. And inebriating. And surprisingly comfortable – more so than it ever was with my ex.

Eight hours later Godzilla disembarked no longer alone and aloof. He had my hand in a gentle reassuring grip, my bags over his shoulder and a huge, almost dopey smile on his face. He was still commanding, still devastatingly handsome, and now my fiancé!

Copyright © 2009 Leena Naidoo