I don't know what I'm doing; I don't know what I'll be doing. All i know is that i need to find the person in the picture, standing with my granny. The photo isn't any help though. It's just the silhouettes of my granny and him gazing the sunset. It was a very very long time ago, before granny met grandpa, or so she says.
She had told me the story.
'I didn't know what love was, I didn't think I would find out like this, just hanging out on the beach with my friends. And suddenly a boat comes to the shore. It carried the fisherman and the fishes and one boy strangely sitting in the corner. Anybody could see that he didn't belong there. He looked so out of place. His outfit was not of the fishermen's; it was of someone with a class. And that too looked stupid on a beach. Who wears a suit to a beach, however good suit it may be. He stood up, put his boots out of the boat into the shallow water and walked away from the ocean with steady paces. Sand was all over his boots and lower ends of his pants. It was strange, oddly strange.'
"Ma'am. ma'am?" the cab driver shouted, "Where to?"
I realized that I had only given him the street name and not the house number. "311G 1778," I replied, fumbling with the piece of paper in my hand.
The place was our old summer house, at least Granny's. As for myself, I had never been here. I wouldn't have been now if it wasn't for her and her last wish.
"I want to see him for one last time," she had said handing me the photo. As I had said before, it was no help at all. I didn't know his face or his name. What if he was a tourist here, or already dead? What if I am too late and she dies in my absence? I knew the possibilities and still came here. I wonder why?
I smile makes its way on my lips. There was something in me that reminded everyone of my granny. We both are so hard headed. If something needs to be done, it needs to be done, no ifs and no buts.
The house is small and lovely. I wonder why they never sold it; nobody has been here in the last couple of decades. But then again 'they' means granny. And I knew exactly why this house still belonged to the Bundles' and the Brioche's before that.
"Hello, is anybody here?" I shout.
"Ms Darris," a man appeared, "sorry for the inconvenience, I was cooking dinner."
"No problem," I said as I weighted this man who was supposed to be Mark, the caretaker. Judging by his white hair and wrinkled skin, I would say he was in his late 70s. His height was exceptional. I had never seen a man this tall in my life.
"Would you like to eat?"
Hell yes. "Sure," I replied.
"Do you know why I'm here, Mark?" I asked while nibbling on the bread.
"To find your grandmother's long lost love," he said sarcastically.
"You don't seem to be all that happy about this," I carefully asked.
"She is old and delirious. What are the chances that anything she has told you is true or certain?"
"It may be. I have to do this. It is her last wish," I said looking again at that photo.
"Only if she dies," Mark pointed out.
"The doctors said that there is no chance," I said grimly.
"They can be wrong."
"Yeah, what do they know? They are just," I said rolling my eyes, "doctors."
"I didn't mean any disrespect. I'm sorry," he said and left the room.
I went back to that day in the hospital.
"I know that I won't live for much long now. Can you do a last thing for me?" she had asked me.
