When Tony had dematerialised, I had stared at the spot where he had been standing for a few minutes, full of wonder and awe. I wondered what he was. Could he actually be an angel? I shook myself out of my reverie, remembering I had to buy my mother a gift from the local antiques store: a gift because it was her birthday soon, and from the antiques store because she loved old things. She believed old things had fascinating stories to tell. I wondered what fascinating stories Tony had to tell as I walked over to the store.
One person who definitely did not was the little old lady who sold me the vase I thought would be perfect for my mother. She was telling me how her daughter's husband wasn't good enough for her and how they really should break their marriage (which I didn't really think was her business), and she gave me a list of the man's flaws, some of which didn't even seem too bad. That was when Tony arrived in the store.
How had he known I'd be here? Actually, I didn't care. What mattered was that he was here and that I was about to be spared the old lady's complaints... I hoped.
I was alarmed when the lady offered Tony some lemonade. No, she couldn't want him to replace her daughter's husband! He was mine! Well, no, he wasn't, but it felt like we belonged together. I thought that Tony would be too polite and accept the woman's offer, but to my surprise and relief, he told her, in no less politely a manner, that he was here to pick me up. That filled me with warmth. I wanted to kiss him, there and then, without really knowing him properly as it was custom to do before one courted someone, but I refrained lest he pushed me away and I ended up publicly humiliating myself.
When we held hands, I felt as though I was on fire inside. It was so exciting, so thrilling to be close to him, so wonderful to know that we were going to go somewhere and share some time in just each other's company.
"I told you I would return," he told me. Though I could tell he was a man of his word, I couldn't think myself silly for thinking that he might not have kept his promise. It just seemed impossible for a man to feel obliged to do something for me, especially when the man was so magical and beautiful.
"I'm elated you did," I told him, not caring that it was obvious how I felt about the man.
The man smiled. "I adore your outright honesty."
"Where shall we go?" I asked.
"Wherever you like. Someplace peaceful might be nice."
"Oh, it would be more than nice," I sighed.
As we walked, roughly in the direction of The Silent Waterfall, I gazed up at the man. He was looking forwards and didn't appear to mind how much I was staring (in fact, he smiled to himself), and I found myself reabsorbing all the details I had found attractive about him in the park and noticing little new things that made my heart sigh for him to be mine. For example, when sunlight glinted off his radiant hair, it shimmered and the air became a haze of gold to briefly join his halo-like glow. Also, he held my hand as gently as if it were something precious and invaluable, though tightly enough to make me feel safe around him. His hand seemed to convey warmth to my soul and turn my heart into a beacon of light (though I was unsure about how I knew such a thing), and his touch sang a gentle lullaby which soothed my senses. As I had longed to be, I was immersed in his serenity. The fact that no words were spoken made this moment special and enjoyable, rather than awkward, since it meant every sense other than hearing was enhanced to pick up more of what made this young man amazing. I felt so calm and relaxed, that it was as if we were floating rather than walking upon solid ground.
When we finally arrived at the waterfall, where mist rose from the pool at the base and water cascaded noiselessly down over rocks, I couldn't hide my curiosity any longer. I whispered my question, wanting to maintain the quietness of the moment. The question was "What are you?"