The banana pancake and the pineapple juice, reminded me of my time in Cambodia. The coffee was barely drinkable. Kerala was changing, I knew I would find some decent coffee somewhere. Hopefully that somewhere, will be soon.
I was thinking to buy a small motorcycle and ride around the south of India. I had just spent six months in Cambodia doing the same thing and I was confident India, would be as manageable. After 3 years of special care nursing, I had desperately needed a break and I still wasn't ready to go home. Although now well rested, there was so much I still wanted to do and experience. And there was some unfinished business with India.
I wanted to see what had pulled Dad to this place. I wanted to see if it would do the same to me. I was curious, I was hopeful. Maybe I was hoping this place would bring me closer to the old man. His memory was fading so quickly.
I'd loved that old man too much, if there is such a thing. Ever since I could remember, Dad had been my best mate. I'd had regular friends but not a best friend. Not for any great length of time anyways.
There was some girls I'd felt close to and there was Elaine, but she was more than a friend. She was fast becoming more than that. I wish Dad could've met her, he would've loved her. He would've loved her intensity and he would've loved the way we met.
I'd travelled home from Cambodia last year, for my brother's 21st. I'd keep seeing this girl walking along the street near my Mums and we'd smile shyly at each other.
While I'd been back in Brisbane, I'd been spending a bit of time with an old friend of my brothers, Jack.
Jack was a charmer. He would talk to just about anybody and knew just about everybody at our local.
Anyway, maybe because of Jacks influence on me, I just suddenly stopped on the side of the road the next time I saw her. I parked my brothers bike and walked across to the bus stop to where she was sitting, waiting. I just started talking to her and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to do.
It felt like we'd known each other for a long time and were just getting reacquainted. Except there were no old stories. We just kept to stuff like, how long we'd lived in the area, what work we did, school, Uni etc. We had actually gone to the same Primary School, but were in different grades. We joked that her mum and my mum probably knew each other from old Tuckshop days and it turned out that they did, but had just exchanged a few hello's and goodbyes.
When I went back to Cambodia we kept in contact through Facebook and later through emails and Skype. She would write me long journals about everything she'd been doing, things she was worried about and people she was worried about. People I didn't know, but it didn't matter.
I'd answer her with stories about my adventures and misadventures. She understood that I needed to do what I was doing and respected it.
She even encouraged it for Gods sake. I'd always wanted a best friend. Someone I could share my inner world with. I wasn't frightened of telling her anything. She didn't seem to have any judgment about anything . She didn't pull me up for mine, but she wouldnt answer me either. She'd just start talking about something else or smile and say nothing.
I wondered if it would always be like this with her. It was unrealistic and even stupid to suppose it would be. She was so caring and compassionate, that it gave my pessimistic mind hope.
Dad had said those things about me too, but Elaine was different, she really lived it. I felt I had to do the right thing but she really wanted to, she welcomed it. Her kindness was more a part of her than her smile or the way she looked when she felt vulnerable. It was her truth speaking through her, it was the light reflecting off her soul.
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