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"I try to think what it's like for you, how you keep going day after day, but I can't
even imagine it. I don't know how you do it. You even beat her disease sometimes.
Even though the doctors don't understand it, we nurses do. It's love, it's as simple
as that. It's the most incredible thing I've ever seen."
A lump has risen in my throat, and I am speechless.
"But Noah, you're not supposed to do this, and I can't let you. So go back to your
room." Then, smiling softly and sniffling and shuffling some papers on the desk,
she says: "Me, I'm going downstairs for some coffee. I won't be back to check on
you for a while, so don't do anything foolish."
She rises quickly, touches my arm, and walks toward the stairs. She doesn't look
back, and suddenly I am alone. I don't know what to think. I look at where she had
been sitting and see her coffee, a full cup, still steaming, and once again I learn
that there are good people in the world.
I am warm for the first time in years as I begin my trek to Allie's room. I take
steps the size of Pixie straws, and even at that pace it is dangerous, for my legs
have grown tired already. I find I must touch the wall to keep from falling down.
Lights buzz overhead, their fluorescent glow making my eyes ache, and I squint a
little. I walk by a dozen darkened rooms, rooms where I have read before, and I
realize I miss the people inside. They are my friends, whose faces I know so well, and
I will see them all tomorrow. But not tonight, for there is no time to stop on this
journey. I press on, and the movement forces blood through banished arteries. I feel
myself becoming stronger with every step. I hear a door open behind me, but I don't
hear footsteps, and I keep going. I am a stranger now. I cannot be stopped. A phone
rings in the nurses' station, and I push forward so I will not be caught. I am a
midnight bandit, masked and fleeing on horseback from sleepy desert towns,
charging into yellow moons with gold dust in my saddlebags. I am young and strong
with passion in my heart, and I will break down the door and lift her in my arms and
carry her to paradise.
Who am I kidding?
I lead a simple life now. I am foolish, an old man in love, a dreamer who dreams
of nothing but reading to Allie and holding her whenever I can. I am a sinner with
many faults and a man who believes in magic, but I am too old to change and too
old to care.
When I finally reach her room my body is weak. My legs wobble, my eyes are
blurred, and my heart is beating funny inside my chest. I struggle with the knob, and
in the end it takes two hands and three truckloads of effort. The door opens and
light from the hallway spills in, illuminating the bed where she sleeps. I think, as I see
her, I am nothing but a passerby on a busy city street, forgotten forever.
Her room is quiet, and she is lying with the covers halfway up. After a moment I
see her roll to one side, and her noises bring back memories of happier times. She
looks small in her bed, and as I watch her I know it is over between us. The air is
stale and I shiver.
This place has become our tomb. I do not move, on this our anniversary, for almost
a minute, and I long to tell her how I feel, but I stay quiet so I won't wake her.
Besides, it is written on the slip of paper that I will slide under her pillow. It says:
Love, in these last and tender hours is sensitive and very pure ,Come morning light
with soft‐lit powers to awaken love that's ever sure.
I think I hear someone coming, so I enter her room and close the door behind me.
Blackness descends and I cross her floor from memory and reach the window. I open
the curtains, and the moon stares back, large and full, the guardian of the evening.
I turn to Allie and dream a thousand dreams, and though I know I should not, I sit
on her bed while I slip the note beneath her pillow. Then I reach across and gently
touch her face, soft like powder. I stroke her hair, and my breath is taken away.
I feel wonder, I feel awe, like a composer first discovering the works of Mozart.
She stirs and opens her eyes, squinting softly, and I suddenly regret my foolishness,
for I know she will begin to cry and scream, for this is what she always does. I
am impulsive and weak, this I know, but I feel an urge to attempt the impossible
and I lean toward her, our faces drawing closer.
And when her lips meet mine, I feel a strange tingling I have never felt before,
in all our years together, but I do not pull back. And suddenly, a miracle, for I
feel her mouth open and I discover a forgotten paradise, unchanged all this time,
ageless like the stars. I feel the warmth of her body, and as our tongues meet, I
allow myself to slip away, as I had so many years ago. I close my eyes and become
a mighty ship in churning waters, strong and fearless, and she is my sails. I gently
trace the outline of her cheek, then take her hand in mine. I kiss her lips, her
cheeks, and listen as she takes a breath. She murmurs softly, "Oh, Noah... I've
missed you." Another miracle‐‐the greatest of all!‐‐and there's no way I can stop the
tears as we begin to slip toward heaven itself. For at that moment, the world is full
of wonder as I feel her fingers reach for the buttons on my shirt and slowly, ever so
slowly, she begins to undo them one by one.
……..
Nicholas Sparks
Note : The Star (*)Beside a word means A possible typo,They are very few But exist.
I Did my very best to eliminate them as much as I could , you may forgive me
When you know that my native language is Arabic not English ..
Regards
MAZ
Egypt ‐ Winter 2005
Document Outline
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