Chapter 53
The line to get off the ship was as long as it had been to get on.
Annie was crammed against the shipside wall of the deck, pinned in place by an ocean of rolling suitcases and overflowing tote bags.
The final photo op was right next to her, and she watched Talker after Talker pose beside a life preserver that read American Fantasy.
Photographs were the easiest way to remember something—Claudia already had so many memories from her childhood that were there just because someone (no doubt Annie; it was always Annie) had taken a photo, a photo that became a story.
What happened if you just let a moment evaporate, let it pass without trying to pin it down like butterfly wings?
Keith might remember it differently than she did, if not today, then maybe tomorrow.
Annie wanted to make her brain do the work.
It could create its own imagery: his soft mouth, his heartbeat under her hand.
The picture would be blurry, it would be red, it would be motion.
Annie kept walking past all the Talkers cheesing for the photo op and wondered if any of them felt like she did, that the experience was too big for a camera to contain.
She was only a few people away from the metal gangway, which would lead her back to Earth.
Annie wanted to move forward, and so that’s how she saw herself.
Was that a fantasy, an unknown future? That was where she was in life.
She’d checked all the boxes—the marriage, the child, the career.
What happened now was anyone’s guess. Annie pictured herself back home, walking the gray sidewalks of New York City.
The noise, the people, the crowds in constant motion.
On the ship, everyone had been standing still.
They even danced in place, not wanting to sacrifice an inch of proximity.
If Annie was going to dance, she wanted to cover ground.
She could see herself weaving in and out of other people’s busy bodies.
Horns honked; delivery bikes zoomed past. And then the sidewalk began to thin, not entirely, but the way it did in Midtown when you turned off the avenue and onto a side street.
There was someone coming her way. Annie moved to the right, and the person in front of her moved to his left so that they were still facing each other.
She moved two steps to the left, and he moved two steps to his right so they were right back where they started.
In the fantasy, Annie began to smile. She was only looking at his feet, but even so, she knew what she would find when she looked up.
That was music, wasn’t it? Hearing a melody and anticipating the notes that would follow.
The improvised choreography of the city streets.
The most surprising parts of life required timing.
Serendipity! Lucky wasn’t the word. Annie thought about all the choices that had to be made in order for two people to be standing in front of each other, ready.