Falling Steps 1

1

         I stood immobile on the top steps of the stairway that descended into the main building of the shopping center.  It was quiet behind me, for I had taken a mostly deserted route to get to one of the crowded shop’s basement entrances.  Downtown was its unheeding and hectic self but the background music that flowed through my portable music player and into my ears erased the usual clamor. 
         Stepping quietly down the steps, I raised my eyes toward the well-sized door.  It was constructed of a tinted glass that would let the person inside see out, but would not allow the people outside to see in.  I was greeted with the steady flow of various blurred faces, recognizing them as nobody I had met before and nobody I would ever meet in the future; strangers passing through and out of my sight. 

         Suddenly, like a flash of light or a second of darkness, there was the ground...
         
         ...followed by the sharp and stinging pain of my knees hitting the ninety degree wedge of the next step, the headphones ripping out of my ears, my hands flailing like windmills in the air, and the piercing feeling of the smarting stairs.  A brief touch of somebody’s fingers on my back lingered as a butterfly’s kiss does.  And then, before I could recognize the contact, the searing pain of a future bruise left me cringing.  I willed myself to pull my body and thoughts together.  Attempting to calm myself out of the abnormal heartbeat that I felt throbbing through my veins, I set myself down on the steps.  It hurt.  But most of the adrenaline and shards of pain came from the shock.  And what was it that I had forgot?  That detail that refused to be remembered?  Fingers, a hand, slight pressure, losing balance, the tilting world, faces, dull disbelief.  Whipping my head around, I tried to catch a glimpse of the figure I suspected to be running away.  I was met with nothing, the usual dirty tiles of flooring, the stairway leading up, the bright lighting that cast shadows, and an expected silence.  Still searching, I held my legs close to my chest and scrutinized the stairway leading up to the entrance door.  Nothing.  Regret that my body hadn’t acted sooner coursed through me.  Fury boiled.  Redoing the earphones back into my ears, I paused the music and sat there, panting.

         Somebody had pushed me.

         After a few seconds I felt my pulse calm.  My legs still felt unsure underneath me and I knew I could not fully withstand my own weight yet.  I took off my earphones, tucking the MP3 into the spacious pocket of my jacket and sat there on the step, deep in thought.  It still ached.  What I had just experienced enraged me to an extent.  Strangely, though, I felt more puzzled than angered.  Had I felt a presence behind me?  The sting I felt in my body and my mind still throbbed, but I felt able to move.  No I couldn’t remember anything: it being too sudden of an accident.  But there was that slight split of a second when I had felt a draft of air.  Perhaps it had only been the wind rushing past my ears as I fell.  Perhaps it had been the feeling of somebody running away.

◆

         I felt exhaustion seep over me as I sat myself at a customary seat in the cafe and ordered a latte.  The anxiety and anger left me unsure of what to think of the incident.  Nobody had seen it, I concluded as I toyed with a napkin.  Deep in concentration, I focused my thoughts on the napkin’s design.  The culprit was yet to be found.  I would probably never see that person again, obviously...

         I felt tendrils of air on my hair, like a wispy breathe of wind with an additional tug as if it had a will of its own.  The current of air was unnatural, even I could feel that, and I whipped my head around to the source of its presence.  Gone.  The people around me, chatting above their drinks and cakes seemed to take no notice of the change.  I cocked my head and raised my hand to toyed with a strand of hair.  The breeze seemed to move on as I scanned my surroundings to search for it.  What had it been?  Certainly not air-conditioning.

         “Excuse me.  The latte you ordered is here.”

         “Oh...yes...thank you.”

         I nodded a thanks without glancing his way as I half-heartedly scoured the room for some sort of sign.  Imagining things?  Out of my peripheral vision I saw the young waiter place my latte in front of me and set a menu down on the table.

         “If you want anything additional to eat, I’ll place the menu right here.”

         “...Thanks...”
         
         This time I looked and smiled at him.  And felt my breath and face freeze.  My pupils seem to widen.  A suppressed gasp left me as he smiled gently.

         “Yes?”

         His demeanor was as calm and cool as if nothing had ever happened between us.  As if we had never met.  Which we hadn’t, not really.  But it was the same feeling as if I had woken up from a dream and just remembered the details.  It was a deja vu. 
         Somehow, I had known that this boy, this boy who probably was not even 16 years old and no older than I, had been the person who pushed me.  For that split second I felt no hatred or fear or surprise.  Only recognition.  I had already known that I would see that person again, somehow, somewhere in a miniscule part of my mind.  I had already expected he or she to be the same age as I was.  And I had already predicted it to be now.  The breeze I had felt, had been a wake up call.  And now, with his face as a token of reminder, I recalled exactly what had happened in my dream.
         
         I broke the tense silence with a statement.

         “I know you.”

         He smiled shallowly.

         “Are you sure?”

         He had a low melodious voice that sounded through my ears, reverberating my heart and triggering a memory.  Blurry but something undecidedly important.

         My half open mouth sucked in air to breath.

         “Yes… Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

         With an unnecessary wink, he tried to laugh my comment away as if he was unsure if I was flirting or serious.

         “Oh...of course...yeah… Yeah, sure...”

         “You pushed me.”

         And I knew I had done it.  His eyes had widened.  He focused his gaze back on me, calculating.

         “Excuse me? What did you just say?

         Slowly I articulated the words.

         “You.  Pushed.  Me.  Must you let me repeat that again?”

         Eyes that looked shaken, shrewd and uncertain, seemed to capture mine.

         “…Um, yes…uhh...could we,” his features were anxious as he gestured toward our raucous surroundings, “like, find another more...suitable place to converse?”

         I feigned surprise and sarcasm though my insides were really pumping with adrenaline.

         “Oh...and what about my latte?”

         A sigh escaped him in a hiss.

         “This is a matter of importance.  Of utmost importance.  Do you not understand what you just said?  If this is what I think it is…”

         “Oh, so what?  Now that I’m accusing you of almost killing me by pushing me down a couple of sharp steps, this is important?  And who are you?  I want to have names, reasons, confessions here.”

         Ashen eyes pleaded desperately at mine.

         “Look, I am very sorry for all that I caused you...but there are logical reasons and acceptable answers to why this is happening.  You just don’t understand the big picture...please, just listen and I will give you my reasons eventually…”

         “Really?”

         My annoyance was boiling up, threatening to spill over.  The danger was close but I did not feel like heeding it.

         “Well then, let’s see what you can do about this.”

         And I let the piece of paper, the one I had kept so long through so many days, the one that was the token of lost memories, drop on top of the table.
         He gasped.

         “I see you have a lot of explaining to do.”