A TRAGIC ROMANCE

by Fred Roberts

Hanna sat alone in the darkened atmosphere of  the  bar  and
reflected  on  her  dismal  existence.   Her  life contained
practically no meaning.  If  HE,  the  man  for WHOM she had
waited the eternity of her life would come through the door,
her life would be overloaded with meaning.  Admittedly,  she
didn't  look  very  nice, compensated this negatively with a
sad  character  quality   somewhere   between  dullness  and
humorlessness but there are  also  stupid  men.   "Oh,"  she
thought to herself, "if only HE would come..."

And  then  HE  came.  As HE stepped through the open door of
the bar  a  silence  engulfed  the  visitors.  Now something
dramatic would happen.  HE took up the room in a glance.  In
the center of the bar, looking like an island in the sea  of
tables,  stood Hanna's table.  She lifted her eyes, her gaze
ascending till it met the  gaze  of HIS eyes which, scanning
the  bar  from  left  to  right,  reached  the  same   angle
simultaneously.   Her  breath  froze.   Her mouth hung open.
HIS  mouth  hung   open.    Everyone   in   the  bar  looked
open-mouthed at the two main players.  They looked  at  HIM,
then  her, in synchronous exchange, since the two were still
too far apart from each  other  to be seen together from all
perspectives.  The smoke of a  cigarette  swept  unfavorably
past  Hanna  who  thought  to  breath  again,  and was drawn
completely  into  her.   A  coughing  spell  fell  upon her,
attacking the silence of the room.  HE strode  elegantly  to
her  table,  sat,  looked  at  her.  As best she could while
coughing miserably, she looked at  HIM.  Everyone in the bar
looked at the two.  Some even moved their  table  to  a  new
position in order to see everything better.  And each of the
guests  ordered  a supply of drinks because no one wanted to
disturb or  miss  the  coming  scene  by  having  to concern
himself later with ordering.

The two sat now and looked into each other's eyes.   Hanna's
coughing  died  down,  shortly  afterwards  the  clinking of
glasses and the  whispering  of  the tense spectators fading
also.  It was quite like in  a  symphony  before  the  first
notes  of  the  first movement sound.  The spectators waited
very expectantly.  Who would speak first?  What would be HIS
first words?  And hers?

Now the two sat directly  opposite of each other, one pulled
into the eyes of the other.  That was the entire world,  the
entire  universe.   Nothing more existed.  It was as if each
sat before a  mirror  and  looked  into  it.   But it was no
mirror image which presented itself before HIM / before her,
rather a perfect symmetric likeness.  HE hers, and she HIS.

As was said, they looked into each other's respective  eyes.
The  waiting  spectators  waited  expectantly  for the first
words to fall.  "Would you like  a cough drop?" HE asked her
finally.  Only a few tiny seconds had passed since they  had
found   their   way  to  each  other.   "Thanks,"  she  said
thankfully  and   took   a   handful   of  the  bad-smelling
Fisherman's  Friends  offered  to  her,  stuffing  them  all
nervously into her mouth, a few slipping out of her hand and
landing somewhere in the bar.   Now  with  the  first  words
exchanged, the ground was fresh for the conversation to grow
and blossom.

HE:  "I..."  and she: "YOU..." the two began and interrupted
each other.  Both grinned  embarrassed, began again to speak
simultaneously, repeating, HE:  "I..."  and  she:  "YOU...",
interrupting  each  other  again.  Hanna swallowed the wrong
way, causing one of the  Fisherman's Friends to shoot out of
her  mouth  and  disappear  somewhere.   This  allowed   HIM
unchallenged to take control of the conversation.  "I have a
feeling  something  is  missing in MY life, that I've waited
for something I can't  put  my  finger  on.  It's you, isn't
it?" That HE should say such words to her could  only  be  a
dream.   But  the  strong taste of the remaining Fisherman's
Friends in her mouth  convinced  her  of  the reality of the
encounter.  "i love YOU, i'm YOURS" bubbled out of her.   HE
looked  at  her  more  carefully.   Then  HE was seized by a
feeling,  a  feeling  of  total  understanding  for  another
person.  In that instant  HE  saw  every nuance of her being
before HIM.  That which powered her and was breath  for  her
soul HE recognized in one glance.  HE saw his own reflection
mirrored  in  her  now  watery eyes and liked it.  HE smiled
benignly to HIMSELF.

A disquieting feeling flowed  through some of those present,
actually only a distant hint, no not even that:  a  not  yet
felt  impression,  perhaps  rooted in a slumbering instinct,
that something about  the  entertainment  was not completely
pleasing.  This showed itself, and only among a few of those
present, through  a  murmuring  hum  which  asserted  itself
before the remaining stillness.  This involved only a few of
the  spectators,  a very small group of people, actually not
people but rather women who had  chosen this bar in order to
enjoy something cool after their anti-men meeting.

All  this  interested  the   newly   formed   pair   little.
Everything  around  them  was as if nonexistent.  "Can I get
you something?" interrupted  a waitress.  "A Jaegermeister,"
HE said.  "A tea," she said.  "Separate  checks,"  HE  added
quickly.  She: "No, of course i'll pay for both of us."

The  humming  noise  in the background changed color, became
louder, darker, uneasier, more  sinister, almost a harbinger
of an omen that something about the situation might possibly
have been capable of provoking some of the bar's visitors.

HE spoke then to her, admittedly somewhat louder because  it
had become somewhat louder around them, although none of the
two  consciously noticed: "I know it, I feel it that we have
so much in common, that  we  were truly made for each other.
I knew it the second I looked in your eyes.  I'm  in  love!"
The drinks arrived.

Up  to now they had sat across from each other.  But at this
moment  they  pushed  their  chairs  together  because every
barrier between them had to be toppled, and besides, it  had
become  so  loud in the bar that only in this way could they
still hear each other.  "My DARLING," she shouted, so as not
to be drowned out by  the  now very loud murmuring, "I don't
even know YOUR name!" HE: "Nor I, yours!" HE pulled her onto
him  and  their  mouths  fused  in  a  disgusting  kiss   of
Fisherman's  Friend  taste.   HE pushed her away, "Bah!  You
stupid cow!" and before  anything  else could happen the two
of  them  became  aware  of  the  meanwhile  extremely  loud
murmuring, the angry protesting of  a  tiny  subcategory  of
those  present  in  the bar.  Words like "Male pig!", "Woman
hater!" and "Kill HIM!" rode  the  frenzied wave of rage and
crashed against HIM.  HE blinked confused in all directions,
saw insane, rigid eyes fixed upon HIM, approaching from  all
sides.   A  beer  glass  hurtled  through the dimly lit bar,
breaking against  HIS  temple,  another,  this  time  a shot
glass.  The eyes HE saw around HIM were no longer human,  no
longer  women's eyes.  HE felt himself surrounded and hunted
by wild beasts, and  the  eyes  of  HIS hunters appeared too
large, glowed terribly in  the  candlelight.   More  glasses
struck HIM.  A chair crashed against HIS head.  HE staggered
and fell to HIS knees, appeared no longer so large.  Another
chair  crashed  against him, from all sides again and again.
he bled,  sprawled  powerless  on  the  dirty bar-room floor
scattered over with Fisherman's Friends.  And as suddenly as
it had begun, everything was quiet again.  A small group  of
bar  patrons  had  left,  as  a  herd of stampeding buffalos
appears and then disappears,  leaving  only  a cloud of dust
behind it.  The cloud of glass splinters and  bar-room  dust
dissolved gradually.  Now one could see how he lay broken on
the  floor, Hanna crying, her arms around him.  "i love YOU,
i love YOU!" was all  she  could say.  he gasped for breath,
found barely enough to speak,  gurgled  "Drop  dead..."  and
died.

The  remaining  visitors  at tables encircling Hanna and her
lost purpose returned to their usual business, noticing that
the scene  had  ended.   The  waitress  came  and rearranged
chairs which were no longer on their  proper  place.   Hanna
continued  her unhappy life, made something of it and opened
a home for battered men.