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Fear and Love (part 8)
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(Note to anyone who's reading this: If you haven't read the previous chapters, please do so... or you may not understand what's going on here.)
December 17-19, 2006
Sometime after the epic battle against Vamp, with school holidays in full swing and Christmas lurking around the corner, I had the following online conversation with him:
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Me: You still go to the office?! It's the holidays! Take a vacation!
Vamp: What are "holidays"?
Me: It's a time when people rest and relax. You should introduce them to that alternate universe where you live. You'll be happier.
Vamp: Okay... What is "happy"?
Me: What?! I'm going to kidnap you and drag you out of that alternate universe of yours.
Vamp: No chance. I am writing a paper.
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It seemed that Vamp was too occupied to get into the holiday spirit, so two days later, I dropped by his office to give him a Christmas present. Nothing flashy... just a tiny, decorative teddy bear, some chocolates, and a card filled with nonsensical ramblings (I tried to write something funny, but instead, I probably managed to make him think I was mentally unstable).
He ushered me in with a smile, but he looked tired and frazzled, perhaps stressed. Judging by the ruffled state of his hair and the lines around his eyes, it appeared that he hadn't had much sleep. He directed me to sit in one of the vacant chairs opposite him. As if someone had turned on a faucet, words came spilling out of him: He was in the process of writing a few papers, aiming to get them published. Because he was from outside this country, he needed to have some papers published here to even be considered for a post-doc position. Naturally, he would have other would-be professors competing with him-- and the competition was no bed of roses. He ran a hand through his already tousled hair and sighed.
I sighed too, but kept it silent. It hurt a little, to see him worn out and under such pressure-- but suddenly his tone of voice changed, and his face turned somewhat pleasant. He still looked a bit drained, but his familiar, kind smile soon crept up and stayed there.
We talked for an hour, perhaps more. We spoke about Christmas, and what we'd be doing over the festive season. He talked about how he, his brother, and a friend nearly triggered an avalanche-- twice-- while they were mountain-climbing in Romania. Then he talked about how he enjoyed swimming at the university pool, and that he used to play in the university's soccer team a few years ago. (He mentioned that his brother played soccer too. Those guys really are like peas in a pod.) He spoke of how he was badly stung at the beach by a horde of bluebottles (jellyfish-like creatures), which caused him to faint.
"There are many dangerous animals here in Australia," he said. "Jellyfish, spiders, sharks, snakes, dingos... Probably the only dangerous creatures we don't have are vampires."
Just like the last time, I couldn't resist. "The only vampire around here is you," I said with a mock-accusing glare.
"Yes, I am a vampire. I do come from Transylvannia, you know." We found this immensely amusing, and both of us cracked a smirk at our inside joke. "Well, not really-- I am not exactly from Transylvannia," he continued with a chuckle. "But Romania really is Dracula's home country. So... you had better watch out!" We both grinned at that.
We went on chatting about whatever trivial things came to mind-- too many for me to remember and list here. We were talking about his hobbies when he suddenly dropped this bombshell:
"I like dancing. I used to go to discos in Romania. I love disco dancing."
I turned away and pretended to rub at my eyes. In actuality, I was trying to stop myself from bursting into raucuous laughter. If I hadn't suppressed it, even people down in the street probably would have heard me roaring hysterically. What amused me so much was that I knew he wasn't joking. Just as his delicate frame and scholarly bearing housed the skills of a seasoned karate fighter, I knew that he must have other secrets and surprises in store. My overactive imagination certainly wasn't helping; in a split second, my mind was filled with images of a disco-dancing Vamp in a satin jacket and bell-bottomed pants. It took every ounce of effort to keep a straight face-- and in the end, I failed, because I broke into a wide-toothed smirk and made a strangled noise that was a suppressed snicker.
"And I like women," he went on, grinning broadly now that he could see I was on the verge of laughter. "Yes, I REALLY LIKE women!"
I couldn't take it any more. I giggled like a maniac. Clearly, this was what he wanted, because the few remaining traces of worry melted from his face, and a cheery smile broke through like a ray of sunlight through a veil of clouds. Whether he was kidding or not, I wasn't sure, and I didn't quite care. All that mattered was that we were sharing a moment of fun, an instant of glee, a friendship cemented in mirth.
We both had errands to run (a meeting for him, and a trip to the post office for me), so we said our goodbyes soon after that. I followed him outside as he walked up to where he'd parked his navy blue bicycle, which he used to get around the campus.
As he climbed onto the bike, I paused to contemplate how things had changed over the past few months. I remembered the time when I saw him as stern and imposing, a no-nonsense academic with a cold, almost impenetrable aura. Now that same man stood in front of me, but instead of being repelled, I felt only joy at being with him. It wasn't him that changed, I knew, as he smiled warmly and widely and said, "Merry Christmas".
He didn't change. But he did change me. I'm glad he did.
"Merry Christmas," I replied. "I'll see you around."
"See you," he said, then pedaled off and became a speck in the distance.
-end of part 8-
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