FORM-Idea

He went outside to get some fresh air and sat down heavily on a bench in the small park overlooking the Hudson River. He calmly observed the enormous island of Manhattan on the other side that no longer held any attraction for him. A dark-haired young man arrived and asked if he could sit next to him. The stranger seemed to want to chat.

– Are you from here?
– No, from Canada.
– I am from Montevideo. Do you know Uruguay?
– Just opposite Argentina, isn’t it?
– Yes, on the North shore of Rio de la Plata. Montevideo is a beautiful city, with stunning sandy beaches and a magnificent austral blue sky. Are you a tourist in New York?
– No, I tried to settle in but failed.
– Sorry to hear that. It’s a suffocating city. In New York, people are crammed like rats in filthy accommodation with exorbitant rents. What’s more, the climate is unbearable with its humidity in summer and freezing winter winds! The people are rude and unfriendly, only interested in their career and making money.
– So why are you here then?
– The ego, man. And hope. I’ve always believed that life would be better elsewhere. My whole life I have dreamed of New York. It took me a long while to save up for a trip to the US. I stopped off at Miami, ending up staying there for a year. Then, once my English got better, I took the leap. Believe it or not my family and friends who stayed in Montevideo envy me, fools that they are! If they only knew that they live so much better than me.
– Why don’t you go back to your country then?
– I cannot return to Uruguay without having succeeded here.
– What are you doing for a living?
– I am a qualified mechanical engineer but here I work as a waiter in a tapas bar.
– Why work in a restaurant if you are a skilled graduate?
– I still haven’t managed to get my Green Card. But I take full responsibility for my choices.

This bitter and jaded man seemed to have been placed in his path by destiny; on returning to the flat, he announced to his brother that he would be going home to Canada in three days’ time.

***

For Jon’s last few days in New York, a lighter mood returned to the apartment and Jackie seemed more positive, even optimistic. However Gabriel’s ongoing silence bothered him; he was not answering Jon’s calls, text messages, nor emails. Had he so easily given up on their friendship? Had he stopped talking to him because he had failed? This possibility saddened him, aggravated his fatigue, made his complexion paler and even took away the habitual sparkle from his green eyes.

***

The departure was surprisingly emotional, even heart-breaking. Jackie sobbed and clung to him, while David, dropping him off on 42nd Street near Port Authority, showed no emotion at all.

– Call me when you arrive in Montreal.
– Okay, I will. Thanks so much for your hospitality.

In the Greyhound bus, Jonathan sat on a window seat towards to the rear. The bus was only half full: young backpackers, some older Latinos and many Haitians. The bus was not super comfortable, nothing like the luxurious coaches you could find in South America. The last images of Manhattan scrolled past his window seat until the bus disappeared into Lincoln Tunnel. A feeling of failure and sadness overwhelmed him. A few tears ran down his cheeks. Had he wasted his last opportunity to make something of his life? He had all the talent needed to succeed in this “New Rome”, but he was simply not up for the job. Jonathan found himself feeling weakened and diminished. From now on, he would have to limit his ambitions and settle for a more provincial version of the Big Apple, Montreal or Toronto at best.

The journey back was long and tiring. Arriving in Saratoga Springs in Upstate New York, he received a text message from Dan.

“Hi Jon, I hope you are well and have fully recovered. Very sorry for not having been able to stay with you in the hospital. I just checked the doctor’s name in my 2004 diary. Strangely enough, he didn’t give me his last name. I only noted his first name: Gabriel, like the archangel… Anyway, he was an angel to me.”

Reading the text sent a shiver down Jonathan’s spine. It was true that there was an uncanny resemblance between the two men. He closed his eyes for a short while, trying hard to remember, and realised that the Montreal doctor was Gabriel’s double, ten years older perhaps. He was flabbergasted. What a strange coincidence!

***

After six hours on the road, the bus finally reached the Canadian border. Jon felt a surge of relief when he saw the maple leaf flag, symbol of a fairer and more compassionate society than that of the US. As soon as he crossed the border, the energy felt different. Autumn had already settled in and the fresh, clean air calmed and soothed him. A tiny feeling of boredom invaded his body, slowing and softening his heart beats.

Thankfully the Canadian customs officers didn’t ask him for anything. He checked his cell phone and saw a message from David. “Please call me back as soon as possible, we lost Rachel. Jackie is being interrogated by the police. She is suspected of having abandoned her. If only I had known she was capable of such a thing, I would have helped her more with her debilitating bouts of depression.”

A deep feeling of guilt washed over Jon. He quickly climbed back into the bus and returned to his window seat.

***

He chose not to call his brother back. Through the tinted window of a bus travelling in the opposite direction, he thought he saw Gabriel, wearing designer sunglasses. Jon waved to him. The stranger gave a hint of a smile. Or was it a smirk?

2022©Pierre Scordia

Thank you to Annie Clein for her great proofreading. 

A French version is  available : New York, été 2005

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