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But‘Mountain Breath’would only bring back my memories of Ella… and the hopes that ‘died’ with her.
So I’m thinking Claudette was right. What a surprise package she turned out to be.
She’s the nuttiest, most perceptive, spontaneous, and compassionate wise woman I’ve ever met.
Our uncanny mutual connection to Master Sachinanda and her involvement in the triple flame relationship between Ella, Gualtiero, and me poses questions that I think only Master Sachinanda can answer.
“Is there something wrong with that coffee, honey?” asks the owner of the small airport terminal cafe.
“Sorry?”
“It’s just you’ve been staring at it for about five minutes,” she continues. “My customers usually drink it while it’s warm. Others stir it first, some even add more sugar or cream. But it’s been a while since someone bought one just to look at.”
“What?”
“It made me wonder if it had clouds in it or something.”
“Like in the Carly Simon song?” I ask, finally on board with the conversation.
“Yeah, that’s one of my favorite songs.”
“My parents used to play that song a lot…” I offer
“… when I was a kid, there are so many great lines in it. SNAP!!! That’s exactly what I was about to say.”
With that, I appraise this woman properly for the first time. She’s about my age, attractive, and about Ella’s size.
She seems to take me in too, just gently, as if maybe she’s trying to work out if she knows me from somewhere. I feel comfortable with it.
“Where are you headed?” she asks.
“A remote part of India,” I answer.
“Sounds like girl trouble.”
“Why do you say that?” I ask, a little too gruffly.
“I don’t know. It just came to mind… umm, sorry.” She seems embarrassed. “So what’s in this remote part of India?” she asks a little too quickly.
I don’t know whether to be irritated by the inquisition or welcome it. I’ve been struggling with not being able to tell anyone what really happened in Canada, and I have an incredibly strange feeling that if I could ever tell anyone, it would be her.
Not that I would of course. I will never betray Ella, Gualtiero and peanut. It’s just a relief to have my personal burden somehow lift in this woman’s company.
“Umm, answers,” I reply.
She considers this attentively, seeming quite reflective for a moment.
“My name’s Ash Morgan. And you would be…?”
“Umm… Aiden, Aiden Burg.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what, Aiden Burg. If you ever want to share the answers to your questions, you know where to find me.
“Now give me that stale coffee, and I’ll pour you one without clouds in it.”
Epilogue - Gualtiero
Five months later
