Seven Years

Bright orange caught his eye as he fumbled with the key in the tricky lock on his office door. "Halloween Masquerade 2002!" the flier screamed. . .Six years he'd been here now. Six years. He never thought he'd be anywhere for six years. Hell, he hadn't figured he'd live another six years. He had found that there were two constants in academia; the years kept rolling by and the students kept getting younger. He had thought he had effectively quit when Angel had got sick, simply abandoning his classes and committee responsibilities. But the dean had been kind to him, calling his half-semester hiatus "bereavement leave," and bringing him back the following spring, even though he had never applied for leave. Angel. Her name, rarely even thought these days. She had settled into his brain as a series of images now. Some painful, some happy, all treasured. The only concrete evidence of her was the beat up red rhinestone ring he now wore on his left ring finger and the drumsticks and photos he keeps on his desk. Seven years he had been without her. The first few months had been the worst. He had been unable to come anywhere near his pain, so he had hidden from it, roaming the country, ignoring his friends and all his responsibilities. Finally, he had come back, back to the city which had been the site of his happiest days. Rarely did he regret coming back. Her face was everywhere, it was true, but he had found once he faced the pain that he couldn't live without it.

He was jerked rudely from his reverie when his office door slammed open. The culprit stood there grinning crookedly, her beautiful brown eyes flashing at him.

"Hi, Katie." Collins couldn't help smiling back at his favorite student.

"Hey Collins." Katie had dropped formality sometime in her sophomore year. "I've got something for you." She was holding a mess of wires with a flat black plastic box in the center.

"What is that?"

"It's a CD player. It still works, but my parents got me a new gadget for my birthday and I don't need it anymore." She pulled a similar white box out of her pocket and showed it to him. "It's an iPod, I can keep 4000 songs on it. It's digital."
Collins shook his head, smiling at her, and added another constant of academia to his list: Students would never cease to amaze him. She waved the CD player impatiently at him to take.

He took the proffered box and wires and looked at it.

"What am I going to do with a CD player, Katie? I don't have any CDs."

"Ah, but I've made some for you." She dug in her messenger bag and pulled out a zipped CD case. "Some of my favorites are here. Seal, Dar Williams, David Bowie, Oooh, Norah Jones! You've got to listen to this one right away. It's brand new, you'll love it!"

"You're gonna wind up on the Dean's shit list if you don't stop being so nice to me. He's gonna think something's up between us." Collins' eyes twinkled. Katie grinned again.
"I've been on Seamus' shit list since first semester freshman year. It's my personal goal to stay there." Collins laughed aloud at her silliness. He tried so hard to retain a professional distance from his students, but Katie was relentless. He had liked her since the first day she had burst into his class, wearing a short floral skirt and tights with cherries printed on them, her hair in sloppy pigtails tied with yarn ribbons. She had demanded a hug from him at their exam review, and he had been powerless to resist, though the rest of the class had laughed. He had laughed himself, to tell the truth, one of the first times he had been surprised into laughter since Angel had died. He would miss Katie when she graduated in the spring.

"Oh, and I've got another surprise for you. You've got a date tonight!"

"Katie, how many times have I told you, don't fix me up with random guys!"

"Kevin's not random, he's nice."

"No, Katie. I'm not dating right now."
"You haven't dated anyone since I've known you."
"And I won't." Katie scoffed, rolled her eyes, and sat on his desk.

"You're not dead, Collins. You're a young, good-looking guy. You need to get out there." She pointed to the ring on his left hand. "And don't wear that, he doesn't need to think you're married."

"I'm not taking it off, and I'm not going out with this guy, so you can just call him and tell him no."

"Don't get pissy, Collins. I'm just trying to do you a favor."

"Well, don't."

"You've been a widow. . .widower. . .whatever, for what, six years?"
"Seven."

"And it's time to get out there again."
"No, Katie. I'm not getting out there ever again." Collins voice softened when he saw Katie looking at Angel's picture.

"Was she that amazing?" She picked up the picture from his desk.

"Yeah, she was everything. We were everything."

"Wish I knew her." Collins smiled sadly.

"Me too. You'd have loved each other."

"Well, dude, I got class in ten. Sure you don't want to go out tonight?"

"Thanks Katie, no new guys for me."

"Suit yourself. He's hot."

"No, Katie."

"Oooook. . .Seeya Collins."

"'Bye Katie."

Walking home an hour or so later, Collins put the Norah Jones CD in the player and put on the headphones. He listened as he walked. Katie was right, it was really good. A little more syrupy than he generally liked, but her voice was beautiful. The first song ended as he crossed the small quad. Every time he walked across this grass, he thought of the time Angel had brought a picnic lunch for him the first week of classes after they'd met. Some of the kids had stared, some had snickered, but he didn't care. Angel had danced in the grass that day, happy as always. The second song on the CD began and he barely heard the introduction, lost in his thoughts. By the first chorus, he was listening intently and crying. Eyes clouded with tears, he found the repeat button on the player and started the song again. He barely noticed that he was on his knees in the grass.

Spinning, laughing, dancing to
her favorite song
A little girl with nothing wrong
Is all alone

Angel dances in the grass, ignoring the jeers of a few rude frat boys, trying to play Frisbee over her head. She spins and spins, around and around, 'til dizzy, she falls to the blanket next to Collins, laughing and clearing hair from her eyes.

Eyes wide open
Always hoping for the sun
And she'll sing her song to anyone
that comes along

Angel laughs on the beach in San Juan, dancing naked in the waves, singing and laughing, loving the sun and surf of her hometown. He stays back and watches her, too afraid of the sea to join her revelry.


Fragile as a leaf in autumn
Just fallin' to the ground
Without a sound

Angel lays in her hospital bed, makeup long gone, wearing only drab pajamas. She holds out her hands impatiently to Collins and he takes them. She says that when she's not touching him she's afraid she'll float away. He makes it a point to touch her whenever he can.


Crooked little smile on her face
Tells a tale of grace
That's all her own

Laying in bed with her, Collins is awakened when she speaks his name. He looks into her eyes and knows it's time. He whispers comfort to her, tells her it's ok to go, tears burning his eyes. Her body shifts and relaxes. She snuggles into his arms and exhales. He can still feel her heart beating, and he holds his breath, both hopeful and terrified that she won't inhale again. She doesn't, and within a few seconds, her heart stops beating. He pulls her close, completely numb for almost a minute, then the dam bursts and he rocks her, crying inconsolably. When finally he can look into her face, he sees that she's smiling. He smiles through his tears, and kisses her chapped lips. He holds her for almost another ten minutes, then finally gets up to push the call button.

Spinning, laughing, dancing to her favorite song
She's a little girl with nothing wrong
And she's all alone

A little girl with nothing wrong

And she's all alone

Still on his knees in the grass, Collins cries over his Angel, the few months they spent together reduced to only a handful of memories. Would he trade them? Only to be back with Angel again. The next song begins, and he listens carefully, still crying.

I've tried so hard my dear to show
That you're my every dream
Yet you're afraid each thing I do
Is just some evil scheme

A memory from your lonesome past
Keeps us so far apart
Why can't I free your doubtful mind
And melt your cold cold heart

Another love before my time
Made your heart sad an' blue
And so my heart is paying now
For things I didn't do

In anger unkind words are said
That make the teardrops start
Why can't I free your doubtful mind
And melt your cold cold heart

There was a time when I believed
That you belonged to me
But now I know your heart is shackled
To a memory

The more I learn to care for you
The more we drift apart
Why can't I free your doubtful mind
And melt your cold cold heart

His tears finally begin to dry and he is left with a few hiccupping sobs. Aware of the world around him again, he feels hands on his shoulders. A concerned face appears in front of him. He takes off the headphones and looks at Katie. Collins smiles a watery smile.

"You're right, this is a great disc." Katie smiles back uncertainly.

"I'm glad you like it. Are you ok?"

"I'm great."

"You want to stand up?" Collins nods, and Katie helps him up. "Want me to walk you home?"

"No, I'm fine now. I'll see you tomorrow." She gives him an uncertain look. "Go on, I'm fine. I'll be just fine."

"Ok man, see you tomorrow." With a look over her shoulder at Collins, Katie heads off in the direction of her apartment.

"Hey Katie!" Collins calls after her. She stops and turns back to him.

"Yeah?"

"Call your friend and tell him I will meet him tonight at seven at the Life." Katie smiles and gives him a thumbs-up.

"Will do, Professor!"