The Silver Compass By: Sean Roberts
Author's Note: All feedback is very much appreciated. Please send to seanr_13@yahoo.ca
Disappointment
Sarah, as arranged, was at the airport in her mother's minivan. She greeted them starting with Mr. Miller, and then Matthew, and then Mrs. Miller. She had been dying to see Michael but when he was there she did not know what to say to him.
Michael felt like he had been away from her longer than two weeks. Her dark blonde hair seemed longer than before. Her green eyes caught his gaze and she smiled, parting her small lips. She had tight cheekbones and pink skin. She was always colourful, even with just light makeup. She stepped up to him. She was taller than him, but only very slightly. "I missed you so much," she said, throwing her arms around him. He held her. He had missed her too. "Did you get my letter?" he asked her quietly. She let him go and nodded. She did not smile. They climbed into the van and she drove them home.
Michael dropped his luggage in his foyer and ran across the street to see Sarah. He began talking to her parents when she grabbed his arm and pulled him up to her room. "You can talk to him later..." Her voice trailed off as she dragged him up the stairs.
"He's so incredible Sarah," Michael said as soon as she shut her door. "You'll love him too. I really want you to meet him. I'm meeting him at Yorkdale, tomorrow, at two o'clock. You'll come right?"
"Sure, I'll come," she said. "See Mike? Isn't it good that I didn't end up coming?"
"Of course not. I'd still have met him."
They were sitting on a bench, watching people walk by. The people were a colourful backdrop against the strong, neutral colours of the building. Sarah had always been amazed with the population of Toronto. The world lived in the city. Out of the twenty people who walked by them in the first five minutes they were waiting, at least seven countries were represented.
"So what is he?" she asked, surprised at herself that she had not asked this question earlier.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean what is he? What nationality?"
"I don't know, does white count? I've actually never asked him."
"How much do you really know about him?"
"I know enough." He glanced at his watch to avoid the conversation. It was not an innocent question. It was five past two. That's okay. Five minutes isn't a lot. And there's enough traffic that would prevent him from getting here on time. But then, I don't even know where he's coming from. Maybe he only lives five minutes away. Michael looked both ways in case Cameron was approaching.
"Answer the question Mike."
"We were on vacation. We didn't talk about Toronto very much. But now that we're here, we will." Michael began looking at the floor. It was beige, speckled with black. He began tracing a pattern in between the dots on the floor, looking for some coherence to their placement.
"Does he know who I am?"
"He will."
"Oh, nice, Mike. You think he's not going to react when he sees you sitting next to a beautiful girl?"
"You're not beautiful."
"Your letter read differently."
"I lied."
"Just now, or in the letter?" He turned to look at her. He knew she was smiling and he wanted to see it. He wanted her to be happy for him.
"Just now, of course."
"What's the time?" She grabbed his left wrist and pulled it towards her. It was a quarter past. They sat, waiting, Michael getting anxious.
"Are you sure we were supposed to meet him here?" "Are you sure you agreed to two o'clock?" "You don't have his phone number?" "You don't know where he lives?"
Thirty minutes passed since two o'clock. There was no sign of Cameron.
"Let's go Sarah. He isn't coming. He couldn't be this late."
"He doesn't have your number either?"
"We were supposed to meet today. We would have exchanged numbers."
"E-mail address even?" They stood up and began walking towards the exit.
"What do you think?"
"Well look, he shouldn't be too hard to find. Let's get the phonebook at a payphone and look him up."
"I can't recall his last name."
"You're an idiot."
"I know." She stopped walking and turned to face him.
"You absolutely amaze me. You fall in love with somebody and you don't know their last name."
"It's not important. Would it be any different if you were Sarah Miller and I was Michael Johnson?"
"Yes. My parents would be your parents. And who knows? You might not be gay."
"And you might be."
A shrug. "I guess."