Throb of a distant heart

By Dee Kuziwa

Blaine and Marilae sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…

Until she flies off to Australia for life after high school.

Blaine, too, posts a four-paged letter, packs his bags and takes a trip to the Netherlands.

Life has torn them apart; it's gotten in the way of true high school sweetheart infatuation. But the memories linger.

Beryl has a secret. He's tall, handsome, broad shouldered goodness and he's been asking. Every year for as long as they have been apart. How is she? Has she changed? Does she still think about me? Do you think we have a chance? Can we go back to the days our love was strong?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dee Kuziwa
• Release date: Jun 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393263227

Book preview

Prologue 

Blaine paced earnestly in his living room, hoping to relieve some of the nervous energy that had seeped unannounced into his bones. He had been bold; he remembered and mentally patted himself on the back. He had walked a mile in the shoes she had dared him to wear – to be brave enough to pursue her. He had travelled the distance to narrow the gap between them that had been satisfied by Time and Happenstance. He had shown up after all, in the words she loved to use. And how had she repaid him? She had gone and cowered behind a wall called Fairness. She’d found a crevice between a rock and a hard place, and sheltered there. In a word, she’d run – almost as much as he’d hoped she wouldn’t but feared she would.

He ground a fist into his palm. He had never been so frustrated, vexed, exasperated (the synonyms crowded his mind), yet gratified by the same person. He wondered if Laè knew what she did to him. Probably, he realised, as their exchange a few days ago replayed in his mind. How else could she manage to tie him up in knots as if his life was a Twister mat?

Oh, but she could be difficult too, he pondered. And that too was predictable. She could dig her heels in and not be swayed by charm. Not even his renowned appeal famous for earning him his way both in and out of the office.

Her ultimatums, he reflected, had become a Laè trademark since time immemorial.

She seemed to him to ask herself if he’d been smoking something lethal to imagine her swooning at his feet like a love-struck fool and yield to his whim. She may as well have and his answer would have been Maybe.

Blaine Lawson loved his woman in a way that was almost fatal. He loved the two sides to her, he thought, that completed the picture of Marilaè Winter. The sweet, impressionable girl who could manipulate a smile to earn herself favours. Then there was the one he could conjure; the stubborn girl who could turn her pretty face into a stone wall of resolution with her way in mind. There was no breaking the latter without hurting himself in the process.

I love you Marilaè Winter. Blaine declared and remembered the echo of something snapping in his heart. His poetic alter ego would have called it the moment when he handed over the reins for her fancy.

I love you back, Blaine Lawson, which is why I said yes without being prissy by lying that I’ll think about it and so forth. But I warn you, if you bullshit me, I will tell your mother, Blaine chuckled at the memory of Laè’s stern eyes even as the smile on her lips held.

He took her warning in stride, a little recklessly cocky about his intentions towards her. It would be a series of unending obstacle courses but he was determined to prove to her that he was the perfect choice for her.

I never make promises I can’t keep. But you have your end to hold up. Blaine countered, with a smile of his own deviously lingering on the corners of his lips.

I’ll do my share as long as I get reciprocation. If I so much as get a whiff of reluctance or overkill on your part, I am backing away. I must warn you, I am not very good at backtracking and coming back to re-test the waters. I feel the slightest hint and I’m out.

We have been friends for near eternity; he translated her undertone, it would be foolish to start playing games now.

That was why he wanted her as his wife. He didn’t think he’d survive another fourteen years of life without her cool, calm, collected crazy. Call him selfish, but he wanted it all for himself.

Of all the proposals he had practiced in his head, none of them matched the shotgun pitch that had rolled off his tongue. It was raw, unrehearsed and the best reflection of his heart in that moment. He did not want to start over; there was no use for repeat beginnings. Good thing she didn’t see the need in wasting time covering familiar ground either. He had decided and hoped she would find the sincerity of his intentions worth accepting.

But in familiar slow motion Blaine watched as Laè’s breath escaped from her body like a violent evil spirit in an exorcism. He could swear he heard a dull thud resounding in his ears. And in some form of dark humour, her mouth formed to speak the words he’d heard her say a thousand times in his mind’s fantasy.

Blaine, I’m -.

I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life, he had scrambled to quash her rejection before she fully convinced herself.

It’s not that simple -.

I’ll tell you what’s simple, Blaine sliced through her objections as the usual master of words grasped for coherent sentences, any interjection to draw out the shock sweeping over her. Talking to you about anything, including Shakespeare. Randomly meeting you in Bulawayo and having milk pancakes while the sun sets in the horizon. Watching you as you ask yourself, each time you paused to stare at me while we shared dinner at Soul, if I remembered what we were to each other.

Blaine reached across to grip Laè’s hand. "I haven’t forgotten. I could not. I have kept us in my mind; in my heart like a dull thud.

When I look at you, I see a whole person who has the capacity to complete me. I see myself better because you expect more from me and it urges me beyond my limits. I know that I am safe in your prayers and that my vision is eternal with you.

When she found her tongue, she chose the familiar self-preservation mechanism whenever she found herself cornered and stressed – humour. And still, his question remained unanswered.

I am being serious, Laè. Blaine searched her eyes, begging her to say yes or at that stage anything other than jokes to refract the anxiety.

Well – I – Damnit, I don’t know how to respond. This is not fair.

She wanted fair... After fourteen years of feeling as if he’d waited for her even though they both knew; the whole world knew, that it was farthest from the truth, she demanded fair. They hadn’t waited. Life had happened. They’d travelled and where a typical storyteller would just let their lives drift apart as is usually natural, they had come full circle. Had they been superstitious, they’d have attributed it to the fates. But the shallow thud of their hollow hearts, empty but for each other, had called out insistently until that moment in a friend’s apartment, when they’d come to roost. Yet she had screamed Fair...

This isn’t goodbye

Blaine was busy when the call came. He had a pen stuck between his teeth, his mind focussed on the next sentence of his letter. This one was goodbye and it was important to make a lasting impression through it. The tingle of the phone interrupted his train of thought and forced him to look up and listen for his mother. Aria usually answered then rerouted to the appropriate person.

His father believed it was women’s business to tend to the phone. In fact, it was women’s business to do everything else except when it was men’s business. His father hadn’t yet explained to him what men’s business was; yet Blaine was certain it did not include answering the phone. Jerry Lawson glanced at his son from the corner of his eye as if to reassert his decree. Oh how Blaine could have given anything to break that particular law under his father’s roof. Looking back, it would have saved him all the trouble that followed.

You expecting a call young man? Jerry asked, folding part of his paper to give his son a better scrutiny.

Blaine shook his head. Not only was it too early for a telephone call in the Lawson household, no one dared call him on the telephone on a weekday morning.

No sir.

Well, leave your mother to it, perhaps it’s a neighbour. Jerry Lawson said gruffly and returned to his paper.

A call that early in the morning should have been the one heralding the publication of A Level results. It was early February and history had it that marking would be complete by now.  The media would start notifying students to collect their results from their schools. Blaine did not envision going all the way back to the remote town on the border of Harare to pick up his results slip, which was just evidence of what the certificate would later confirm. His aunt who worked in the Ministry of Education’s administration department would come in handy there.

He did not anticipate, for a second, hearing Marilaè’s voice when he brought the receiver to his ear.

Blaine, the call is for you. Aria set the receiver on the desk and waited for Blaine to reach her.

She caressed his cheek and pinched his chin between her index finger and thumb with her lips pursed into a thin line just as he lifted the receiver to his ear. He saw something flash in her sad eyes before she turned to the kitchen. Something like fear and pain.

Hello? her voice echoed down the phone line and met the stun in his silence.

He did not ask who it was and immediately wished he had when she said hello. His first reaction was shock because she never called. She preferred the written word to talking on the phone. It was alarming to the point where he almost asked her to verify her identity just in case his mind was playing tricks on him. If he had known, he would have asked her to leave a message. A message would have been easier to digest in the privacy of his room where he could conjure the tears and punch the wall in frustration. It was just his luck that he could not foretell the message she had to deliver and worse too that it struck him dumb.

To cope, he focussed on the melody of the voice on the other end, trying to find ways to make it stick in his brain; if for nothing else than to cherish the music of it and the sweetness he had taken for granted.

I know you are not used to me calling but a four-page letter will not reach you in time. I asked mum to use the phone and you know this is a trunk call so I cannot stay long, she took a breath.

Blaine held his.

I’m going to Australia, she announced after a beat.

He felt breath seeping out from his lungs like air from a punctured balloon. If he waited long enough he’d be lucky to just shrivel up and die.

Blaine, I got a place in Queensland and I’ll be studying Human Resources Management. For some reason it feels like the best thing for me given my options.

Her options, Blaine challenged in his head. Now she has options. What were her options anyway? He certainly had a few clues to help her there. Try staying in Zimbabwe for a little while longer until his own visa application to the Netherlands went through. What about considering against going abroad for university? Local colleges and universities offering their choice disciplines littered Zimbabwe. Beryl had sent her application to the University of Zimbabwe. All things equal, there was nothing fancy about Australia or Holland. Here was an original one: Not proceeding to college at all - both of them. Why not wait until the utter entanglement of their lives such that even if they left, they still had each other. Distance would not play its tricks.

Queensland, Australia? he tucked his tongue in his cheek when he realised the stupidity of his question.

He blamed it on partial coherence. Full sentences were still a task.

Marilaè wanted to scream in answer to his idiotic question. Where else was a little state of Queensland but in Australia? And why not Australia, she grew defensive. If the world is my oyster, why not leave Zimbabwe and make something of myself there. He had plans for Holland, why was he not happy for her own opportunity?

She had expected him to ask her to stay. Deep in her heart, she thought he would dare her to forsake her future in the name of love. Suddenly, Laè chuckled. Love? When did she start seeing her life through rose-coloured glasses? When did her decisions start hinging on Blaine? What a laugh...

Yet, she thought again, did she count the decision to stay or go among her choices? Could she consider, for instance, relinquishing her dream for him - for them? Could she turn away from the blinding reality of Australia and all it promised and stay here with Blaine? Their relationship was in its toddler years, barely viable and quite unworthy of such a sacrifice. In fact, the longer she thought, the stronger she wondered if he would have done the same.

It’s a three year degree, she ignored him and steamrolled along.

If she stopped, she would cry. Blaine was her first love and he was making it very difficult to walk away. Marilaè did not need his display of immature antics.

It sounds like a solid deal. I do not know much about the holidays or what will happen after I settle in some. I might consider permanent residency but it is a long shot. I don’t even know yet if I will like the place.

What about writing? Why not pursue that? he was glad for his voice.

It had not betrayed the tears barricaded behind heavy lids. Gosh, how did you fight for a girl who was determined to leave anyway? Never mind that his own ticket to Holland was sitting eagerly on his stack of paperwork for orientation week. He had his own foot out the door but was daring Laè to stay. And the award for the most ironic statement goes to?

You’re the only one who enjoys the stories I write. Besides, do you think you will pursue architecture? she brought up his own glorified hobby but did not wait for him to respond. I don’t know about my writing. I will still do it I suppose but it takes a chunk of time sometimes. I am going to do a serious degree in Queensland. Writing may not be permanent after all.

Now, even the three years they had between them, the years they had shared building a form of relationship and even talking about the future, seemed to fall into the same category of impermanence. Marilaè was tearing herself apart from the unit they had become.

Three years? he echoed, drowning in disbelief.

Not long really, when you think about how long it takes here with internship. Marilaè tried to explain.

You will be so far away. he stated the obvious and followed up with a completely irrelevant question. How come you called?

He only asked because if he were on the other end he could have just disappeared without notice. He would never do it but he had potential. They both had. Besides, it would have hurt less if she had just silently departed.

Marilaè did not want to sigh but could not stop it once it was out. Blaine could be insufferable.

I’m going away for a long time and I don’t know if I will be able to write or talk to you as often. I did not want to write and risk you not replying soon enough. Things are moving fast.

Her voice hitched on a sob, which she rushed to clear.

I just handed my passport for visa processing and they told me three days. I have a ticket for Sunday. Between now and then I will be travelling, shopping, tying up loose ends. I also didn’t want to leave you here on a false hope that things will not change.

She did not mention the farewell party scheduled for Friday evening after work. Plans were to reserve two days for the weekend trip to Rusape and Mutare to bid her grandparents farewell. She deliberately left out the part where she would have every opportunity to visit him and say goodbye properly but refused herself the unquestionable pain associated with doing exactly that.

Sounds like you already have one foot out the door. I can’t believe the last day of school was all the goodbye I will have in person. Blaine cut in.

His heart burned something incredible. It was like suffering the worst kind of heartburn, flames literally licking at the borders of his heart and no amount of antacid could pacify the discomfort. He rubbed his chest in response to the searing ache.

It’s hard enough making this call, Blaine. It is hard enough dialling the numbers and knowing that after we hang up it is probably all the memory of each other’s voice that we will ever have. It is not any easier when you counter me with disbelief that will not graduate beyond you. Can you will yourself to be happy for me?

Laè-

- try to visualise what could be going on right now in my mind and quite possibly my heart, she snatched the moment from him in that fraction of silence. I am leaving all things familiar to try to chart a life for myself and-.

I’m stunned, Blaine found the courage to offset her accusation. I am happy for you but I am stunned. There is no way I can see you before Sunday?

Marilaè shrugged, even though she knew he could not see her gesture. There was the issue of distance. Mutare would be a three-hour trip with any mode of transport. It would not be impossible but the days were flying by. It was Tuesday and she had Wednesday and Thursday to run errands and pick up her passport. Friday was the impromptu farewell party and then Saturday was her round trip, first to Rusape then further to Mutare and back to Harare.

It would be hectic enough without stopping by Blaine’s family home to bid him farewell, to share one last joke and hopefully one last embrace. It was not the same with high school. The farewell was different now. This time their parting and her departure would be heavy with excess emotional baggage. No, there was no way they could see each other before Sunday and her flight out of the country and into a different page of possibilities.

Possibilities? Did she really believe that Australia had that much for her? Australia had been a random discussion with her girlfriends during lunch break. They were discussing their future and options for university. South Africa came up as a popular option for many. Others picked America and England. Only Laè sat and imagined Australia. If all her friends took off to the places they mentioned, she would be blissfully alone in Australia. She would have a clean slate on which to create new memories.

You’re in Mutare, Blaine. By the time you get here, the music will have changed. Then there is the unbearable thought of what is left to say to your face even if I could see you. This hurts me – it truly does. She felt tears stinging her eyes. Her chest constricted under the agony of suppressed weeping. "It’s taking all the