Out of a sentimentality that tries to recapture an irretrievable past, Tom and Joanie returned to the old wooden bench in the abandoned cemetery at the top of Walker Street. Streetlights cast ghostly shadows on the PS 21 school yard, the scene of so many fast-pitch stickball games in Tom’s youth. Years ago, they had sat on the bench together—rather, Joanie had sat on Tom’s lap. Kissing, hugging, and groping, they had progressed to that enchanting precipice where their romance would be consummated. Slightly older and more mature, Tom stopped his advances, settling for the sight, touch, and taste of Joanie’s swelling breasts. Delaying gratification for the goal of a college education had been hammered into the depths of his brain by his no-nonsense mom.
Nearly a decade later, the two star-crossed lovers were perched on the same wooden bench in the same little cemetery amidst the worn tombstones, desiccated crabgrass, and overgrown shrubs. This time the lovemaking was more purposeful, as if making up for lost time. Despite setbacks and sidetracks, the bond between them was unshakable. They were true soul mates, their love surviving the obstacles of time, separation, other people, and the very stuff of life itself.
Enchanting and graceful as ever, Joanie had magically shed her undergarments without removing her light cotton dress. She appeared to be a devotee of William Occam, who said it’s foolish to do with more what can be done with less.
Awkward and clumsy as ever, Tom managed to take off his shirt and lower his pants without too much fumbling.
At this point, Mother Nature took over, and time itself seemed to slow down, as if the gears of the universe were grinding to a halt. And the two lovers rhythmically merged as men and women have done since the dawning of time. There isn’t much unique about the act of intercourse itself. However, each person’s life cannot be replicated—it’s the emotional trappings that are unique. Aside from chirping crickets, buzzing mosquitoes, and the rumbling of a few passing cars, the only sounds echoing from the old cemetery were the pants and sighs of two lovers joined as one, after so many impediments and years of separation.