TULIPS AND ROSES

A short story (fiction)

TULIPS AND ROSES

I wake up.

But I wasn’t sleeping because I am standing in a park. How did I get here? Where was I going? Where is my home? And who am I?

Fear grips me. What just happened to me? Did I fall or hit my head? I realise the negative as I feel no physical pain anywhere. Have I lost my mind? Why can’t I remember anything or anyone? Who am I?

My mind works its way through possibilities, guesses but doesn’t find its way through memories. I can’t remember anything. Who am I? I ask again. My mind fails to answer me.

I look down at myself. I am wearing what seems like jogging clothes, a pink T-shirt and black yoga pants. I have a watch on my right hand and a wrist band on the other which reads ‘Trust no one but you’. Such a weird thing to wear but the warning affects me, anyway.

I am in a park which means I was jogging. The time 7:40 am on the watch confirms it. But why am I alone? I am still shivering not of cold but fear. Who am I? I fight back tears and close my eyes to everything.

After what feels like eternity my mind says ‘Trust no one but you’ again and I realise I need to get home if I have one. I take in the sight around me, people, kids, trees, park benches, cycles, dogs.

Dogs? I own a dog and I left him with the watchman of the park at the gate. My dog is naughty. Rox…Rox…Rox is a naughty retriever. The kids are scared of him.

This memory surprises me but leaves me with more questions. My tears replaced with curiosity, I head for answers to the gate. I see people talking, laughing, some sitting and some on their mobile phones. Where is mine? I search my pockets. Only, there are no pockets and no mobile phone.

At the gate, I see Rox playing with the watchman. I smile. The watchman hands me Rox’s leash and Rox takes no time to knock me down licking me all over. I thank the watchman and wonder if I know him, his name or if I come jogging every day. Before I could decide to ask, he wishes me a ‘good day’ and walks away.

Not scared anymore but pensive, lonely. Rox is pulling at his leash. I let him lick my hand, my fingers and my ring. I am married? To whom? Where is he? Perhaps, waiting at home.

Disappointment flows through me. I feel my heart ache. I stare into blank space and follow my dog who is probably trying to lead me home. He leads me out of the park, into the footpath and after a few steps, halts in front of three parked cars on the side of the road. Why would he stop? Doesn’t he know the way home? These cars. Mine? Do any of them belong to me? But which one? Can I even drive? Yes, yes I can drive! My heartache disappears in excitement.

A FORTUNER… Hmmm. That’s huge. I don’t think I would drive this.

BEETLE… Not my style. Who drives a yellow beetle? Must be some young girl’s? I am older. My hand reaches my face, my hair to feel how I look like. I check myself out in the beetle’s glass. Tall, slim, hair ponytailed, fair and somewhat pretty even in my own criticising eyes. I look down at Rox who wags his tail in approval.

I check the third car out. It is a MERCEDES BENZ. Yes, this could be mine but maybe not because I have no keys. I have no pockets and I can no way keep them in my brassiere. My hand reaches up to prove the same only to find them. What? I wear my car keys in my neck as a locket? Who does that? It’s stupid. Maybe I didn’t hit my head after all. My problem is more mental.

I walk nearer to the Benz and press the unlock button. It chooses to ignore me. The Beetle blinks at me instead as if saying “Yeah babes, am yours”.  I am shocked. I own this? And my inner voice agrees.

I go round the car with a reluctant feeling of ownership of such a thing and notice a name calligraphed in the front right corner, AGATHA. Hahaha, who names her car Agatha? A stupid me, of course.

Rox barks at me. I realise he must be hungry.

I haven’t given him his cookies yet. Yes, cookies from James Bakery.

Another memory, more hope. We get in the loud yellow Beetle. Except for a tiny purse with some cash in the passenger seat there is no other sign of any identity of mine. As I try to get the car out nervously, the watchman comes and guides me out of the parking in perfection.

“He just helped me, I can trust him” I convince myself and ask him the way to the bakery. I leave a smiling watchman behind with the information “up the road, take a right, cross the city hospital and there it is”.

The moment I take the road I notice a black windowed SUV parked facing me on the opposite side and I feel watched. As I drive closer and past it, I see a glass roll up which leaves me uneasy.

I reach the bakery with no other problems at all. As I move out, my mind insists to check if the SUV had followed but seeing no sign of it I discard the whole plot of being followed and taking Rox with me, I climb up the few stairs to James Bakery. I see an open cafeteria in the front and a bright, red walled bakery behind it. The place is breath taking. But it doesn’t find any place in my memories. I don’t think I have been here earlier. Rox doesn’t seem to agree for he pulls me straight through the cafeteria and inside the red building to a corner where they keep cookies for dogs.

Special cookies. In fact, they started the dog corner only after I fed them with the idea as this is the place for most joggers and they usually have their dogs along. And it’s a big hit now.

Now, how did I remember all this? I am starting to remember but in bits and incomplete pieces.

I pick a few butternut cookies and give one to Rox. His favourite. And without realisation I walk to the counter and hear myself say “the regular”. Nida, the girl behind the counter points to me an empty table in the cafeteria and says she will bring me the order. How do I know her name? She has a badge of the same. Not a memory, this time.

I sit down. Rox sits beside me in and I give him another cookie. Nida brings me coffee and a cheese garlic sandwich. As I sip my coffee I ponder about my stranger husband, a voice startles me “Do you mind?”

My body stiffens. I look up to unknown intense eyes staring at me waiting for an answer. Answer to what? Do I know him? Trust no one…

“Do you mind if I join you?” I nod involuntarily.

Nida brought two chocolate muffins for him. “One for you, Maam, please, it’s my birthday today”. Did he just catch me ogling at the muffins? I ignore the offer and take a bite of my sandwich instead.

“You are beautiful” he says. An unchewed sandwich piece slides down my throat.

“Maybe we can go out sometime” he adds. I cough.

I fold my arms, conscious and annoyed. I feel my ring. I raise my hand “I am married” I show him.

“So am I. These flowers are for my wife” he points at the bouquet on the table.

I blurt out “How dare you ask a woman out when you are married yourself?” not able to suppress my anger.

“Sorry. I was only kidding. I was getting bored. You are not much of a talker and not to mention beautiful. No offence meant”.

My anger quietens as I realise my impertinence. I gaze at him and see what seems like honesty in his eyes. “Happy Birthday” I finally smile, my issues are not his.

“Do you like ice cream?” he asks. “There is an ice cream parlour just down the block. ‘Ben & Kate’, they call themselves. If you would have agreed to our date, I would have taken you there” he smiles teasingly. But I hear him no further. His words bring a picture to my mind a couple holding hands walking towards Ben & Kate. I see them from the back so I see no face. But I know the girl is me. 

“I know Ben & Kate. I go there sometimes with my boyfriend” the words leave my lips against my wish.

I have a boyfriend!!! I have a husband!!! My head spins. I rise up. Enough of trying to be brave, enough of trying to find myself. I pick up Rox’s leash and march out of James Bakery leaving behind my coffee, leaving a flirty stranger gaping and everyone else staring at me. This place gave me no answers. If it’s a place I often visit, why is it that no one knows me? I run to the car, slam the door and burst into tears.

I jog. I own a dog. I drive a Beetle, I am married, I love coffee and I have a boyfriend. Isn’t remembering nothing easier than this? I fight back sobs and coax myself “don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry Agatha”.

Agatha!!! Yes, Agatha is my name and not this damn car’s.

I laugh at myself. Yes, I can do it. I’ll remember everything. Common, think Agatha, where do you live?

I feel hot, sweaty. I take off my shoes. I glance at Rox “Rox, where do I live?” He licks me in response, my hands, my fingers, my ring, again. I slip it off. It’s a beautiful solitaire. On its inside are engraved two words ‘Roses and Tulips’ and they make no sense to me. What has these flowers to do with me and my husband? How can I have a husband and a boyfriend but still wear a wedding ring? Why am I here all alone? Doesn’t anyone care, be it boyfriend or husband?

I start the car in anger and my bare feet hurt. I look at the back of the car and search for my slippers which I find. I don’t know who I am but I seem to know that I am a person who keeps spare slippers in her car. I laugh at myself sarcastic and triumphant both at once and start my car, again. My feet hurt no more, but, oh wait, I am also someone who has tattooed feet.

I lift my feet up on the seat and stare at them. I have a pretty rose with tiny thorns tattooed on my right feet but underneath it is carved the word, tulip and on my left feet I have an equally pretty tulip but beneath it is written rose.

I take my keys out of the ignition. This will take time sorting out.

I am guessing I am a very stupid person with such stupid tattoos. Oh damn! I shouldn’t have been so angry. I messed up my head. Now I am remembering things wrong. I close my eyes for a while and try again but no, my mind refuses to trust my eyes.

‘The thorned flower is a rose not a tulip’

‘But it is written tulip’

‘So you walk around with incorrect tattoos?’

I give up. Confusion, only a flower shop can clear. “But you don’t any” my mind warns me. I’ll find one. It is only a straight road. A lost way is still better than a lost mind.

I start the car and this time I drive. I see what seems like an SUV behind but I ignore it this time, on impulse. I have more important things to worry about than a lurking car which might not even be.

A few blocks ahead I see Ben & Kate but I resist the temptation to stop as guilt pricks me. I drive for another minute and I spot a flower boutique.

Bingo!! So easy, I hadn’t expected. The boutique is flowery in the true sense of its meaning. All you can see of the place is a long corridor of flowers on both sides and a name peeking out as a signboard on top “Roses And Tulips”.

Parfait. Are all the jokes on me today? With a mind as blank as it can possibly be, I enter. I see only two kinds of flowers, one on either side. Roses and Tulips. Of course, I don’t know which are what.

An old man approaches me from behind a desk and says “Are you late as your husband came here an hour back for his bunch of roses?”

A war rages inside my head and I don’t answer. I see him walk to the side where my heart says are tulips but my foot says are roses. He picks a bunch, makes a beautiful bouquet and hands it to me “Go on, these tulips will mind if the roses wither before them.”

And this riddle solves the answers to my life.

I walk out as puzzle pieces fall before my eyes. I leave the car and walk back instead. As I approach Ben & Kate, the picture I saw clears.

I come here to our favourite ice cream joint with Stephen, my husband for five years and boyfriend for two more before that.

From a distance, I see the same lurking SUV in front of James Bakery and leaning against it is the flirty stranger, my husband with his bouquet of roses. Rox reaches him before me and wags his tail like an entertained audience.

“Happy Birthday. Like my gift?” I ask. I managed to find him the perfect gift ‘my memory’ again, all by myself.

Yes, my ever so curious wife, but you almost gifted me a slap back there” he hugs me, emotions getting the better of him.

“You don’t need to do this, I can’t take the pain you go through every time” he begs.

But I need to. He goes through it every day, several times in a day when he has to remind me of things, of people and at worst times, of himself. Alzheimer struck the very first year of our being together, faulty genes. And it gifted me a wasted future. I was 21 but against all odds he married me. Sometimes things only get worse with time. So, we should be allowed to steal little gifts of happiness from it which includes incorrect tattoos for life. His birthday is that one day of the year when I attempt to find my memory as a gift. I didn’t make it out of the park even, the first time. But our story of perfect love, of passion and commitment; of roses and tulips continues…