Time is a magician. When 30 years have passed, it is difficult to tell what is real and what is not real. Below is something strange that happened in my office this morning:
A and B were my high school classmates. A is female and B male. B was a roommate of mine in the dorm. We shared a bunk and were close like each other’s shadow. When B and A started to date, I had the pleasure of being an occasional messenger between them, as well as a peace-maker now and then. However, the feelings they had for each other during high school were not mature yet. After graduation they parted ways; and each followed his or her own path; they each got married and started a family of their own. One thing they had in common, though: they both emigrated to America, A is a dentist on the East coast while B is a gynecologist on the West coast.
Yesterday afternoon, A called and said she wanted to come and see me. It turned out she was in Taibei and got my phone number from a classmate. She told me she was to return to the U.S. tomorrow. She sat in my office for about half an hour. Thirty years of time had lapsed. For a while we didn’t know where to start and yet once we started we had so much to talk about. Before leaving she gave me a tin of tea leaves and asked if I was still in touch with B. I shook my head.
Then, a strange thing happened. This afternoon, B, whom I had all but lost touch with since graduation, called me, too. He said he had been back to Taibei for a conference and finally got hold of my phone number from a mutual friend. I said: “This call of yours is a bit late. If you had dialed this number yesterday, I would have told you A is in my office and is chatting with me over tea. You would certainly have dashed over to see A, whom you haven’t seen for 30 years!” B said; “Really? Really?” He dashed to my office and asked, still gasping: “Perhaps A has changed her flight? Perhaps she is still in Taibei?” I told him to call up a few classmates who would know A’s whereabouts. B was given this accurate information: A has boarded a 10:30 flight this morning to return to America.
B had such a lost look in his eyes. He then asked me for A’s phone number and address in America and wanted to leave right away. I gave him the tin of tea leaves A had given me and said: “You both, without talking, brought me a tin of tea leaves. I’ll keep yours, but hers, you can take back to America and enjoy. You didn’t get a chance to shake her hand, but this tin of tea leaves, at least, still has a lingering warmth of her hand. Take it with you. Better than nothing, you know.”
At that he took over the tin and hugged it to his chest, a smile appearing on his face. He said good bye and left me to linger a bit longer in the memory of this old-time love. I have always wondered: Which would be better, the two of them, after 30 years of no contact, missing each other again by as little as one day? Or, what if they had suddenly encountered each other again in my office that day? What kind of ramifications would such a reunion have?
(n.d.)