Deja Vu She Always Waited for Letters—Ever Since Childhood, All Her Life. Addresses Changed, Tre…

Déjà vu

She was always waiting for letters. Always had, since she was a little girl. Her whole life.

The addresses would change. The trees seemed to shrink, people drifted away, and the act of waiting softened into silence.

He never trusted anyone, nor did he expect anything. Outwardly, he was an ordinary, sturdy man. Work filled his days. And at home, there was his dog. He travelled alone, or with his four-legged companion.

She was a charming girl with large, sorrowful eyes. Someone once asked her:

Whats the one thing you never leave the house without?

My smile! she would say, and the dimples on her cheeks would stand as proof.

For as long as she could remember, shed been friends with boys more than with girls. They called her the skirted pirate round the estate. Yet she had a secret game she played when she was by herself: she pretended to be a mother, with a house full of children, a kind husband, and a comfortable home with a beautiful garden blooming outside.

He couldnt picture life without sports. In a box in the garage, his trophies, medals, and certificates slumbered peacefully. He didnt really know why he kept them around. Out of respect, perhaps, for his parents, who were so proud of him. He always meant to bring them round. The victories meant little; it was the contest that mattered. Pushing until exhaustion, giving everything, and feeling new strength well up afterwards. Catching a second wind. Breathing anew.

Her parents died when she was around seven. She and her little brother ended up in different childrens homes, and grew up apart, both fighting their own battles, facing their own sorrows and small joys. That life in those government homes was behind them now. These days they lived across the street from each other, in a neighbourhood of low houses, cosy lanes, bright gardens, and bustling farmers markets. Her brothers family were her nearest and dearesther onlytrue friends.

It was a fretful day. Her shift ended at last. She crossed the staff car park. Old Mr. Jenkins caught up and gave her a fatherly hug, thanking her for the mince pies.

Go home and get some sleep, you hear?

I will, I will, she waved him off with a quick peck on the cheek, and hurried to her car.

Oof, sighed the ambulance driver as she left.

On holidays theyd often be assigned to work the same shiftfew people wanted to be on duty then, even the doctors.

There were two men in the crew, and neither warmed to her. She liked to keep smart and look neat; things changed so much when the doctor was in good spirits and presentable.

He was speeding as much as the rules allowed, sports trophies bouncing in a box in the boot, his dog whining anxiously in the back seat. His father had suggested they see in the New Year together. So, that very day, hed put his trophies in the car. The thought of spending the holiday with family, instead of working, buoyed him. He loved his coaching job and missed the lads when they were away, but rare visits home always left a bittersweet aftertaste Just a few days before the New Year, in the small hours, the phone rang.

Mums unwell, his fathers voice wavered. Retired Colonel, strong as an oak, but now anxiety crept into his words. His parents had been together since schooldays, and even now, after all those years, there was a special spark between them that always amazed him, as if they shared some great secret.

She gave a tired smile. Every New Years Eve, shed bake an assortment of pies and drop them off around town after her shift. Today, shed even managed a nap at the station. Otherwise, Mr. Jenkins wouldnt have let her drive at all; hed have taken her himself, beaming at her slightly abashed grin.

About six miles to her parents old house. Suddenly, a blizzard hit. He recalled how the dog had been reluctant to get in the car a few hours earlier, the rattle from the boot, endless journeys, roads upon roads Just hold on, Mum, Dadtheres no one else

The dog licked him gently, almost as if it had read his mind.

Sorry, mateand of course, I mean you too

She let the engine idle. The snowstorm was perfectly ill-timed. One pie remained. Two, maybe three miles to go; then out onto the country road, and round the bend, there was the little village where her favourite patient liveda spirited old lady. No, old lady wasnt quite right for hershe was lively, eyes twinkling, her husband a match for her, full of light and warmth. Proper adventurers, never ones to complain. Just the way her parents might have been.

A sudden dark shape flashed into view. Straight in front of the car. Against a backdrop of relentless swirling white.

Where did you come from, dog? Out of the woods? Or did someone lose you? What striking eyes you have Whys your neck sticky? This wet jumper So tired Sleep, I want to sleep Jack, Jack, old boy Why does it hurt so much? Mum, Im coming, Dad, Im nearly there Darkness

No answer from Mr. Jenkinshed left to fetch his grandchildren. Impossible for an ambulance to get through in this weather.

Hang in there, mate Stay with me Ill get you out. Dear God. Theres a dog, as well

She was about to set off when a grey car shot past.

Someones in a hurry to get home, she thought. A few minutes later, she came upon the grey car, overturned, spinning at the edge of a frozen ditch. A black dog lay nearbyseemingly alive.

What time is it anyway? She never liked hot water, but right now, only a hot shower kept the shivers at bay. The trembling ebbed away. She sat on the tiled floor of the bathroom and closed her eyes. Just wanted a little sleep.

How in the world did you drag him out? Hes a sturdy bloke! Her brothers voice echoed in her mind. Every muscle ached, the memory of pain woven through her body.

Shed driven the man and two dogs to the hospital in her own car. Her brother had met her halfway and helped. That same day, she went back to the village to deliver the final pie, taking with her the box that had tumbled from the grey cars boot.

It might be precious to that fellow. The main thing is, everyones alive. Hell come round; Ill return it then.

The old ladys husband answered the door, looking at sea.

Has something happened? she blurted.

My wifes in hospital. I was meant to be meeting my son, but he never turned up. I cant get hold of him

She dropped her gaze.

And you, are you alright? He took her hand.

Let me drive you? she offered.

They rode in silence. The storm had abated.

You have a box on the backseatthat yours? the Colonel finally asked.

There was an accident. The driver swerved for a dog, his car flipped, the box fell out of the boot

Grey car? White dog inside? Black one from the woods? his voice dropped to a whisper.

She stopped the car, turning to look at him. The Colonel clenched his fists, staring at the road.

Hes alive. And your wife will recover, she said, pulling him into a quick embrace.

Listen, my dear May I call you that?

Of course, she choked out, tears brimming.

My wifes had this strange dream about a black dog for days Our sons got a white one. Where did the black dog come from?

Beautiful eyes. Incredible. Sad That was his first thought as he regained consciousness. His father nodded off in a chair beside his hospital bed.

Mum. The accident. Everything came rushing back. And the girls eyes

They finally celebrated New Year at the end of January. His mum was on the mend. His father beamed. Jack limped a littlenothing time wouldnt heal. Work was calling him backthe lads needed whipping into shape after the holidays, competitions on the horizon. Hed stayed too long at his parents house. Time to head back to the city. But that girl stayed in his thoughts

He was at the gate when his father called from the loft window.

Dad, need a hand?

His father grinned conspiratorially. The man glanced around the attic and spotted his old sports trophies lined up on the shelves.

So Whered these come from, Colonel? he chuckled.

Think about it Ill take Jack for a walk before you go.

She hurried home earlier than usual. Dina was waiting for her. She hadnt been able to leave the dog at the vets after she recovered, not when shed surely have ended up at a shelter. Dina wasnt completely black; she had a white patch on her chest, shaped like a heart.

She walked into her building, opened her postbox automaticallybarely looking. She was about to close it when a glimpse of white caught her eye.

Inside was an envelope.

The letter read:

Ill be coming round this evening. Thank you, love!

Love is like a compass: it always leads you home.