Poles Apart
A free short story
“Mason? Mason James?”
I didn’t need to turn around. I knew that voice instantly, even after almost seven years.
“Hi, Evie,” I said, still staring into my almost finished beer. Playing it cool, trying to sound like I wasn’t excited.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Same as you. Waiting for a plane.” I nodded towards the departure board. Delayed, delayed, delayed, nothing going out of here till the storm lifted.
She laughed. God, that laugh. First time I heard it, I fell in love with her. And for the next two years, all the way through the rest of our college days, that was all it took to bring me out of even the worst moods. It was impossible to feel down when you heard Evie laugh.
“No, silly, I mean, what brings you here?”
“Heading home,” I answered. “Just took a bit of a vacation. Y’know, some me time.”
Vacation. Right. More like therapy. After my darling ex-wife did a runner with my best friend and my dog, and then took practically everything I owned in the divorce, house, car, the lot, I had to get away. I took four months unpaid leave, and spent the first month drinking myself into a stupor in sleazy dive bars every lunchtime. The second time I woke up in a cell, I decided it was time for a change of direction. So I booked myself a cabin in Oregon for three months, sobered up, and got my head together. Read a lot of books, listened to a lot of music, took lots of long, solitary walks, ate lots of healthy meals, and figured out how I was going to turn my life around. The company said I could stay there and work remote if I wanted, but I needed to get back to the office. It was time to be around people again. I wasn’t ready to be a hermit yet.
“Anywhere fun? And you’re still living in Boston? Same job? Been to the Himalayas yet? Fancy another beer? I’m having one.” She gestured at the barman and sat down next to me. “It’s really good to see you, Mason.”
I counted off her questions on my fingers. “No, yes, yes, no, yes, and likewise. Well, now you know all about me. What about you? Still living at the South Pole?”
She laughed again. “Not all the time. Home’s Columbus, Ohio now. I’m at the Byrd Polar Center.” I looked suitably impressed, and raised my glass to her.
“Married?”
“Engaged three times, but still single.”
“Including me?” I tried not to sound bitter. We’d planned to get married as soon as we graduated. But then she got the offer of a nine-month posting to Antarctica, and decided that it wouldn’t be right to make that kind of commitment and then go to the other side of the planet. I said I’d wait for her, but, well, it didn’t work out that way. I had a programming job in Boston, and she went to Cambridge. The one in England.
Evie nodded. “There was a guy I met in the station, Steffan. Seemed like a great guy, but when we got back, he turned into this boring, morose workaholic who never wanted to spend time with me and couldn’t wait to get back to the Antarctic. And then there was this French guy in Cambridge who was really fun, and rich, but he tried to stop me taking a six-month posting to McMurdo. I guess I’m married to the job.”
I nodded sympathetically. I already knew all that, thanks to Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and LinkedIn. Not that I was stalking her or anything. Just, you know, keeping up to date with an old friend, checking in every few days to see how she was doing.
We talked for a couple more beers. Well, she talked, I listened. Polar science is a lot more interesting than you’d think. And apparently you can have a lot of fun in the Antarctic, if you’re with the right people. It’s not all penguins and snow.
Suddenly, there was an exodus. People started to finish their drinks, grab their bags, and head for the gates.
“That’s me,” I said. “Gate 14.”
She looked at the departure board and shrugged. “I’m still delayed. Maybe I’ll switch to whisky.”
I stood up and slung my laptop bag over my shoulder. Unsure whether to kiss her, I stuck out my hand instead, feeling even more self-conscious than usual. “It’s been great catching up, Evie. Really great.”
“Oh, Mason, give me a hug.” Dammit, that laugh. We hugged for a long time, not like business acquaintances, like lovers.
“Evie,” I said, breaking away. “We were good together, weren’t we?”
She smiled. “Yes, we were.”
“Do you… do you think that maybe… it could have worked between us? I mean, do you want to, maybe… meet up? Call me sometime?” I took out my phone and made give-me-your-number motions.
“No,” she said. “I don’t think so. Take care, Mason. Safe journey.”
And that was that. So long, Evie.
After boarding the plane, I checked my social media. She’d already blocked me.
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I liked this story very much until the end. I think it would be much more effective if he never says outloud his desire to get together, but only implies it. Left unspoken, I think the ending would be much more powerful. Still a damn good story, Matt.