Saudade

A very short fiction (I love this one)

The restless crowd stood along the platform, awaiting with fear and excitement. The day was unusually wet. It had been drizzling since the previous night, making the ground soft with mud. ‘When would the train arrive?’ murmured the impatient families of soldiers, when all they'd be thinking would be ‘How bad will the injuries be this time?’ Minds were clouded with dread and hearts pounded at the possibilities. 

The train arrived with a drawn-out sigh, steam hissing along its way. The sight made the crowd silent, perhaps in anticipation. The wheels shrieked against the iron tracks and came to a stop. Men burst out the doors with their luggage, clad in their worn-out khaki uniforms. Cries of women filled the place when they found their husbands and sons; some with a wide grin and some wrapped in bandages. Fathers pressed a hand against the back of their sons; a silent gesture to say that they were glad of their return. Mothers fed their sons with bread-and-butter puddings. Wives kissed their husbands as if it were their last.

Among them, the lady in a floral tent dress grasped the metal pole tighter. Her eyes scanned the place to spot her man. Her left leg stood on the plinth while the other hung awkwardly. Had she known how strange she looked from afar, she might have stood better. She was getting impatient, but the beating of her heart suggested it was not the anticipation of his arrival this time but the fear of otherwise. She climbed the bench beside her to get a better view.

The crowd was dispersing but she still hadn't found him. She felt the blood drain from her body. Her shoulders drooped at the sight of the empty door. 

Then the messy ash brown fluff of his hair peeked out of the door; his form bent down to pick up his trunk. The same trunk she had bought for him before he left. A sigh of relief left her lips and then she screamed his name abruptly which came out as a shriek: “Ray!” His head snapped to her direction and the trunk fell down onto the platform, forgotten, as he ran to her. The lady jumped into his arms, burying her face in his neck and wrapping herself around him. He held her tightly, lifting her up into his embrace, leaning in until his nose filled with the scent of her rosemary shampoo.

“Crysie, my darlin’.” He grunted through his clenched teeth. The sight of her overwhelmed him after a year of witnessing blood and tears. He weaved his fingers through her soft locks with a smile. “Missed me, love?” The voice still had the playful touch which she had fallen for. Only two years before did they meet at this very train station when she waited for her father's return from the war. Never did they imagine they'd be bound to each other for life. Tears threatened to fall from the corners of her eyes as she huffed, “’Course I did!” He quickly hushed her and carried her back to pick up his trunk in one hand. “I'm back, sweetheart. I'm here, aren't I?” He set her back on her feet. Bantering all the way, they walked back home. The ache of his hand holding the trunk was forgotten because of the warmth of the other hand intertwined with hers. 

He truly believed she was a rose that bloomed in his barren heart; and so he longed for her to never fade— even if he had to go. The leave was spent mostly in bed; and some evenings in the fields by the river that ran near their village. Their house had changed quite a bit. He knew the money he sent could never allow her to spend much on furniture so he quietly understood that she had been working hard as well. The colder the nights got, the more snuggled up they were in bed. He'd listen to her stable and soft breaths as she slept, knowing that there was a chance he might not listen to it forever. 

The end of his leave arrived unwelcome. She smiled as she caressed his cheek, feeling the stubble against her palm. “Take care, yeah?” His voice was gruff and reluctant but with a smile. “You too, love.” She returned his smile with her own. They wanted to hold onto each other and never let go, to sob into each other's arms and go back to bed, entangled. Instead, she kissed his cheek and he kissed her palm. “I love you, Crysie.” His eyebrows knitted together as he cradled her face in his hands. A pained smile in his lips soon painted hers too. “And I love you, Ray.”

 The train hissed again. Farewells were said, tears were shed, sniffles echoed all over the station. The train had left. 

She brushed against the soft wool of the little sweater. The sound of the child’s cry pierced the silence before. She rushed to lift the little one into her arms and bounced her. “What's wrong, sweets?” She hushed the baby as it whimpered. She gave her right pinkie finger for the child to suckle on, and soon the whimpers came to a stop. 

The door opened as the man of the house trudged to the kitchen to greet his wife who was prepping dinner. He rested his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist as he complained about his day. Crysie couldn’t intrude their moment so she waited to tell the lady that it was time the child was fed. 

And as she waited, she thought of how these quiet moments could have been hers too. Outside, the train station would be packed with the arrival of soldiers that day. But, then she smiled at the thought of Ray who now only existed in her mind. Flooded with the memories of him, she thought: How adorable a child who resembled him would have been!