Featuring Hugo and Livvy

November 3, 2005

WELCOME HOME, HERO!

This is what was said on the huge, multicolored banner hung high on the entrance to the otherwise inconspicuous neighborhood.

Though today, of all days, was different. The neighborhood wasn't as quiet as it commonly was. Everyone  was gathered around the small houses to witness and celebrate the visit of their neighborhood's pride and joy: the twenty six year old Hero Park. He was many things, but as of late he starred in a movie, The Kind of Love, which was a blockbuster that broke all kinds of records. They say that he's well on his way to be nominated for his first Oscar. And he was from here! Can you believe it? I knew him when he was just this small!

It is 3 p.m. when the black Limousine finally rolled in. The excitement is palpable, and everyone stopped their chatting to stare. A voice in the distance hollered, "He's here! He's finally home!"

And there he was: a man worthy of his name. Hero Park, who had always been attractive, even when he was the scrawny sixteen-year-old in his beat up school uniform, skipping class to catch a movie at the local theater. Now, though, it had been ten years, and he was different. His brown hair was polished, and though sunglasses hid his striking grey eyes, everyone bore witness to that smile which has smitten so many: his lips quirked up on the left, his dimple visible. As simple as he was dressed, he looked very attractive: he was in a white t-shirt, jeans and boots, and as he left the car a loud cheer goes through the neighborhood.

"Thank you so much for the warm welcome, everyone," he said, waving his hand. Picture perfect and ready for anything. "I missed you all so much!"

A whole line of people formed, waiting to greet him: relatives, old friends, fans who didn't even live in the neighborhood. He greeted all of them warmly, he laughed and talked though his eyes wandered for a face he longed to see. He spoke to one person after another, all of them becoming a blur, but she was not there.

He waited for her to be the next person in the line until there was nobody left to greet, but even then he kept looking. He stayed outside for as long as he could, waiting, but it got dark soon after and the crowd ushered him into his home to rest.

And just like that, the welcoming party is over. Hero Park was home at last, and although he didn't say it, he was disappointed she wasn't there to welcome him home.

*

For one reason or another, he found that he couldn't sleep that night.  He laid in his bed, the familiarity of his childhood home a welcome feeling that washed over him. Yet, he couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned on his bed until he was tired of doing even that.

He sat up and checked the time. 3.30 a.m.

He slipped on a hoodie and slippers, and crept out into the living room and then the front porch. He basked in the night air, cool in the way it never was in the city. The only light came from the moon, and he could hear nothing but crickets.

His eyes caught a figure sitting on the staircase of the front porch opposite his, perhaps the only person awake for miles. They were hunched over and looking at their shoes, deep in thought.  He knew the only person around who would be there, he knew the petite figure and the long, curly hair.

Before he even knew what he was doing, he was next to her.

"Olivia," he breathed, the only thing he could say in her presence. Dazed, she looked up at him then, her reverie broken at the sound of his voice that was much too familiar. Their eyes met.

For the first time in five years, he saw her and it was as if no time had passed at all. He remembered her eyes, strikingly hazel and so, so beautiful though she always told him she thought they were nothing special, the dark hair that cascaded down her shoulders, her lips that stretched out into the shadow of a smile when she saw him.