Sacrifices I

[WP] You have the power to see how happy a person is by how much their eyes glow. One day you see 2 people sitting across from each other at a restaurant. One of them has the brightest eyes you’ve ever seen, the other one has completely dark eyes. And they are both smiling.

******

It was a blessing... and a curse.

This ability of mine allowed me to help people - to see some of the most joyful souls in the world, to meet them, share experiences with them, and revel in their good luck. Their eyes shone bright like lanterns illuminated with the flame of stars.

But it also made me see some of the saddest to ever walk the face of the earth. Devoid of any joy, of any happiness, and at times, of any hope, their eyes were dark bottomless pit which only told of their own emptiness, of their longing to be filled with something, anything rather than despair.

It was something else - the mixed feelings I'd encounter each time I had to pursue the cause of some random person's joy or sadness. I learned that some people derived joy from the murkiest, scariest things, and I resolved that I would do one thing.

Mind my damn business.

It was not in my place to know why - I already endured the burden of knowing in the first place, so I decided to just look away each time I saw something out of place.

Until I saw those two.

It was at the cafe - the one owned by the Italians, They had the best coffee at that time, so people used to flock there every morning to start their day with an extra rich cup of whatever it was, nibbling at bagels or any other pastries that caught their fancy.

I had a real sweet tooth, and if not for my aggressive healthy eating campaign, I'd have been a brand ambassador of diabetes. That said, I was a regular at Emiliano's, and I'd seen my fair share of 'eyes'.

Except for the pair, I saw that day.

They were two. A man and a woman sitting across each other, both beaming with smiles. Anyone who saw them would have thought of how endearing the scene looked, but they didn't have the eyes I did. They didn't see how brightly the boy's eyes flowed, and how dark the woman's were.

I was sitting at the window, and they were in the center of the room. The young man in a suit and tie, his croissant lying dejected on his plate. An older looking woman, presumably his mother, reached across the table and straightened his tie, to which he frowned.

"Mom, I'm no longer six. You're embarrassing me here." he mouthed, glancing around the room while blushing slightly. I always wore dark glasses, so he'd never tell if I was looking at him or not.

"Since when did it become embarrassing to dote after my own child? The world's changed..."

"Aye, but good people like you still remain," he said, standing. "Do you have any spare change? I don't think I'll be able to catch the bus, and the train costs more. If I go late on my first day of work, I'll be in trouble."

"B-but..."

"Mom..." he mouthed.

"Alright," she said, bringing out a few crumpled notes from her purse and giving him. He beamed.

"You're the best," he said, dashing out immediately while she was already ste=retching forward to kiss him on the cheek.

"Oh..."

She got out of the cafe, and for some reason, contrary to what I would normally do, I followed her. She kept looking in her purse, shaking her head and moving, and she didn't know when she had entered the road.

As the car approached blasted its horn and tried to avoid her, I pulled her back as the driver screamed obscenities.

"Thanks, young man!" she said, looking at me.

"It was the least I could do for the last of the kind-hearted souls we have today."

"Huh?"

"You gave him what you'd have used to get yourself back home. I guess a mother's love does really conquer all. Some mothers anyway," I said, hailing a taxi.

"You followed me? What are you?"

"I'm... sorry, I was just fascinated. You seemed very happy, and yet I could tell that you were devoid of any joy inside. I'm sorry if that came out a little forcefully, but I do have a problem with expressing myself without being... insensitive."

I opened the door of the taxi and gestured for her to get in.

"You've done someone some good today. Everyone deserves a good turn, even you, sweet mother. I'm going my way now, you can tell the driver where you're going and I'll pay."

She looked at me and smiled.

"Only if you come along. I'm not allowing the last of the gentlemen to go without a bit of pie."

******

The journey to her house was full of discussions and laughter. I could tell she had a lot of questions to ask me about how I knew, and she wasn't falling for my 'gut-instinct' bullish!t, but then she was a wise woman through and through.

She didn't probe the matter any longer anyway, and it was clear she was leaving it up to me to spill. I was undecided about whether I'd do that.

On getting to her house, I noticed there was a mini 'altar' of sorts in the parlor. The flowers there were kept fresh, their stalks in crystal clear water. They were changed every day, that was clear, and on under the arch of flowers was the picture of a man in a soldier's uniform.

"Husband?"

"Yes."

I nodded, not wanting to probe the matter any further, but she added. "Cancer. Two months ago."

Ah, he didn't die during the war. Not all stories have that sad ending.

"And he was the only one who really cared about you, wasn't he?" I asked in my trademark fashion.

She was sobbing.

I was an idiot.

Holding her by the shoulders, I escorted her onto the garden at the back and sat her down.

"You have a keen eye - a very perceptive one. Just like Richard. He could always tell what was wrong - always. These smiles, they didn't..."

She stopped.

"I'm not judging you for expressing your emotions. Let it go, you've kept them bottled up for so long, hidden behind those smiles. You've let your children believe that you were okay, sacrificing for them while they didn't pay close attention to you. They failed to see the cracks on the fine china," I said, standing up and walking across into the garden.

"He liked these flowers, didn't he?"

"How did you know?"

"It was all over his memorial in the sitting room. You planted them, but then he was the one who started it. You stopped after he died, but you continued after a while."

She looked at me in awe.

"I'm not a seer, no," I laughed. "There are signs on the soil here. I'm a bit of a horticulturist myself."

She smiled.

"So after his death, you were sad at the loss of the love of your life. You were even sadder that none of the kids could at least try to fill his shoes, so you neglected his past hobby. But now, you found a way to keep on going. By holding on to his legacy, these leaves, hmm?"

"You have... a... keen..."

I rushed forward as she slumped in her seat, catching her in my arms before she could hit the ground.

******

@Leo_kitti, @Hanzell I keep trying to stop that ninja, but I think he's used malware here. He keeps hacking into my works. ;;-;;