Long time no filter coffee: Or Chapter 3.

No early morning sounds seem to permeate into Sam and Midge’s life. Not that it matters. But it makes one wonder. See the connection between Sam’s height, his self-imposed shelter from the sun; and the pygmies blanketed by the foliage in the Rain forest?

Rhetoric.

The rhyme begins to play again. Midge every time she has nothing to do replays Sam’s proposal to her. Let’s introduce a twist to the scene where Sam is on his knees with a small little box in his hand. Midge opens the box only to discover no ring in the little blue satin box. Surprise. Surprise. Sam then opens the palm of his other hand and reveals a ring with a diamond so large it couldn’t possibly fit into that little blue box.

Midge peeks out of her daydream. It glitters. It was just the sunray bouncing off Sam’s steel watchstrap. Sam looks upon her indulgently. Smiles at her, ruffles her hair. Midge snuggles closer to Sam and looks upon him all the more fondly because of the thought that had just played out in her mind.

Affection for something he is yet to do was totally acceptable to Sam. Sam is not averse to marrying Midge. But the thought had simply never crossed his mind. Put him through a lie detector’s test and it will not reveal anything different.

Midge at that moment felt extremely bold. Or you could say extremely weak. She asked Sam for a diamond ring. Sam knew he would have to withdraw money from his father’s legacy but agreed without a second thought. Midge misunderstood it. A victim of her own device: the daydream.

Sam would never understand the row that followed. He didn’t hand over the ring as customary on one knee. Midge protested. Midge made her feelings clear. Midge made him regret his affection. Midge was deeply hurt. Sam was deeply hurt by Midge.

Long time no twist in the story you thought. Wrong.

Sam disappeared without leaving as much as a bookmark. You assumed it was his home they were living in. Wrong again. It was Midge’s home.

But he didn’t do it as suddenly. He took his time. No, he didn’t take his time packing up all his things. He left them all behind. He took a couple of days just trying to patch up with Midge. They did.

Yet.

It came rudely when it did. More appropriately, Midge hated the diamond ring. It was a blue sapphire to tell you the truth. The same variety that ruined all the male members of a certain royal clan. So much so princesses and queens only wore it happily ever after. As a precaution.

Treat that with derision. Boo it till you discover that Afghanistan, Kashmir, Sri Lanka and Myanmar are the only god-forsaken places where these stones are found. All countries that have been at strife for years. Coincidence? Perhaps? The flip side is this stone can catapult the wearer into instant fortune and fame if it agrees with the persona. Midge grew instantly famous. Midge grew instantly rich. She became the game show host of a multi-million dollar game show.

Long time no Sam.

Midge hadn’t forgotten him. He was far from a closed chapter. Though no matter how hard she tried she could not find him. He had disappeared without a trace. She had asked around but nobody knew. Blind man Joe knew but he had foresworn his loyalty to Sam.

Perhaps it has occurred to you that at no time until now do you really have any clue of the geography in which Sam and Midge reside. You may now suspect that it is deliberate. Yes it is. No city, no street, no recognizable landmark.

Plod in a strange country. Without a passport, without a consulate you can run to, like all good Americans do when in trouble. You are trapped. You knew four people and one has disappeared. Fortunately the cause is not a riot, a war or a coup. It’s just a misunderstanding. But then a misunderstanding can have serious ramifications as people on either side of the Indian-Pakistan border have often discovered. Dismay.

Sam in the meanwhile has turned back into a frog. Remember the side effects of being kissed by a princess have to be renewed ever so often to let the transformation be an agreeable prince. Not something you read in the fairy tales with happy endings. But then the happy prince and princess lead a happy life, which ensures they smooch ever so often…so there’s no danger of a physical regression.

Indulge the fantasy a little while longer. It’s the portrait of a teller as an angry young frog. Sam had not truly disappeared. He was simply the frog that had fallen into a deep ditch and could find no way to get out. Too steep to climb, too high up to clear with a jump.

Press conference: But then why didn’t Midge kiss the croaker who she passed by every morning? Vague answer. Why didn’t she even pay attention to it? Unintelligible mumbling.

True, Midge had kissed a frog on a dare. But then nothing had happened to the frog. It was only the next day that she met with Sam. So it was really difficult for her to tell that it was really a frog that had turned into Sam.

The truth was also that the frog needed to sleep over the kiss to decide whether Midge was really the princess. The morning after test answered itself. The frog awoke transformed as Sam.

It met Midge on her way to office. Or rather Sam did. And Midge was head over heels over Sam. Kind of explains why it never occurred to Sam to even consider marrying Midge. It was kind of alien to Sam. Neither could Midge understand why a flood of nostalgia swept over her every time she passed a certain ditch.

Sam the frog in the meanwhile was resisting the overtures made by all other frogs in the ditch. The last thing he wanted to do was collect eggs, and pile eggs on the she toad’s back. Forgot to mention that Sam had been a Surinam toad before he was kissed and this is a peculiarity among Surinam toads; they hatch eggs in a pouch on their back.

Imagine this love triangle: Midge, Sam and a she Surinam toad. Actually don’t even begin to. In fact, forget this entire line of fanciful thinking.

Sam had never been a frog in the first place. In fact, all that had happened was Sam had gone away to think things over. Midge would have wished that Sam had done all his thinking back at home. But then men seem to find it difficult to do so. Gautam Buddha had set precedent. He left his queen, his kingdom and all his royal belongings. Look what that got him: nirvana. Look at it from the queen’s point of view: she lost him forever. Ouch. Gautam did visit her once later on but it was too little too late.

Fortunately for Midge Sam didn’t go that way. Unfortunately for Midge there are no guarantees in life. Midge was bereft. Midge was at loss for words. Midge walked out into the little garden outside her home. She often went there when she wanted to collect her thoughts. The denizens of the garden were too perceptive not to notice. The grass trembled. The ants scrambled out of her way. The moles that had their home below the garden dived for safety but were not sure whether the ceiling of their home would survive the footsteps. Midge was too upset to notice.

She headed straight for the park bench she had in her garden. But it was rusted in places. Just to illustrate that a few monsoons had passed since she felt the need to retreat into introspection. The creatures of her garden looked on unable to make head or tail. None of them had ever ventured into the home and Sam had never ventured into theirs. Midge found her place on a swing that was just a wee bit dusty. It squeaked but Midge was too far-gone to hear it. The swing wished she would get the hint but no, Midge will not remember to oil its squeaking joints anytime in the near future.

Actually Midge hardly swung. She hardly moved her feet. The swing could have had legs for all she cared. On second thoughts anything with legs was a bad idea for her. It meant that anytime the option to walk could be exercised. Meaning Sam. Midge was however, angry at Midge. Midge talked to Midge.

Midge: How can you let marriage destroy you even before you marry?
Midge: All I can do is plead insanity.

How Midge berated Midge. Midge apologised to Midge. Midge went down on her knees to no avail. Midge refused to listen to Midge. Midge tried to appease Midge. Midge was inconsolable. Midge tried nevertheless. Midge promised to Midge she would get Sam back. Midge: How?

Midge began to talk to Midge. Midge outlined a plan she had. Midge made up as she went along. Perhaps Midge listened to. Perhaps she didn’t. Midge was expressionless. The creatures in the park were waiting for the sign that all would reign well in their guardian angel’s life. It came after the conversation between Midge and Midge went on for a little while longer. The tears flowed. The creatures rejoiced. They were selfish.

There is a chameleon inside everybody. Hoping that it never gets noticed.

Midge was hardly looking. Tears impede vision. The creatures could see them coming down in buckets. Yes, it is an exaggeration. But in this theatre of reality too hamming is not without its virtues. In fact, it is highly recommended especially in the telling. Gossip keeps getting spicier each time its told. By the time the last spider in the little garden got to hear about Midge’s tete a tete with herself you might as believe her lachrymose glands had sprung a giant leak.

Let alone the surgeon, even the ear nose and throat specialist was not the need of the hour. A shrink perhaps could have earned an hour’s worth of listening, which could have easily extended to two and a half, depending on how comfortable the couch was. Too comfortable and Midge would have slept. The extremely busy and very popular quiz host was not getting her eight hours of beauty sleep. Sam wouldn’t let her. Through the sheer lack of his presence. A visit to the bank revealed a closed account and no forwarding address.

Midge went home with a cushion she never knew existed. The sweet little lady had kept it safe for Sam initially. But as it turns out it was more like she was safekeeping for Midge. Midge was extremely thankful. She slept every night, woke up every morning with it.

It was a lovable lump of cotton. It took whatever shape Midge gave it. Midge hugged it. Midge pummeled it. On rare moments when Midge felt emotionally independent Midge threw it off the bed. It lay there for days until Midge in a moment of weakness retrieved it. A psychologist would call it transference. The cushion came to stand for Sam and Sam would come to mean cushion.

Let’s replay a previous conversation that Midge had with herself.

Midge: How could you let marriage wreck me even before I married?
Cushion: Would you have felt any better hugging me if you were married?

Midge pummeled the cushion harder. It hurt but just sponged it. Midge hugged it hard an instant later. Midge missed Sam. Midge’s wet cheek touched the cushion. The happy yellow sunflower on the cushion cover was experiencing its first incidence of dew. So it thought. Morning was still a few hours away.

Midge awoke from a dream where Sam was beside her on bed. She only saw a cushion. She threw the cushion on the floor. Stamped on it and walked off. The cushion was happier off with the nice lady at the bank. But had little choice. The sunflower wept though it continued to smile outwardly. Perhaps the cushion should consider a career as a comedian. Hemorrhaging inside, humorous outside would be a sweet-sad way to explain the real and reel lives of many of our comic stars.

So is Mickey Mouse silently mourning a first love he had to leave behind in a burrow? It would be a great deal of fun trying to imagine up all the heartbreaks of all popular animated characters actually. However looking at the state at which Midge is in maybe it would be thought of as highly indulgent, inappropriate or indelicate. Upsetting for sure. Even give cause for violence on the part of Midge though she has indicated no such propensity until now. But these are still early days.

But the Real tragedy of being Roger Rabbit, the ultimate price for fame is a story that needs to be told. Alexander Dumas is rumoured to have had ghostwriters doing duty on his sequels to the Three Musketeers. Perhaps it gives the author an inspiration on how to write more than one book at a time. Not by himself. Perish the thought.

Incidentally: Nostalgia is the only sequel that consistently betters the original.

Midge needs attention. Immediate attention. She can’t live in this comatose manner. She can’t live by asking questions of people who crave for an identity they believe will be theirs if they appear on television. And spending the rest of her time questioning herself.

In the meanwhile Sam admires Antonio Miraldi’s Gondola shoe, which is displayed at the atrium in a rather popular beach side hotel in Florida. You’ve got to be the giant in Gulliver’s Travels to put your right foot in…to that shoe. He sees it as an alert on his yahoo page.

So technically, Sam could still be anywhere in the world. In Limerick for all we know. It’s easily the largest Limerick in the world. It’s a town in Ireland, the fifth largest there. Or then he could be in Cucumber, which is a place somewhere in America. Or he could be in Jodhpur, which is not just another shoe that Polo players wear but a dusty city in India. You know if you were still into that name, place, animal, thing, game, many of these cities would quite easily take up two categories. (Now can we think of an answer that would qualify for three categories, and then four and then all? Uh-oh.)

Midge is in a quandary on whether to file a missing person complaint or not. She decides against it. She didn’t want the answer to where. She wanted to find out why. They had patched up after all. She sought other reasons for his absence. She didn’t rule out a kidnapping. She didn’t rule out a hit and run. She didn’t rule out amnesia. She didn’t rule out another woman. Then again, she did. She didn’t rule out a sabbatical in the Himalayas. She didn’t rule out a vacation in the Rain forest. She didn’t rule out a holiday in a friend’s house though she had no clue who that friend could be. She didn’t rule out a ski trip for one. She didn’t rule out a visit to a sanatorium. She didn’t rule out a signing up to assist at a Brazilian home for abused women. She didn’t rule out Sam going undercover to Iraq. She didn’t simply think that Sam would consider a job as an understudy to a mechanic.

He became a mechanic’s apprentice out of spite. He knew she wouldn’t even think of it. How well he knew her. No, it wasn’t one of those garages where Harley Davidsons got a makeover. It was just one of those regular places where regular people with regular cars went for tune-ups, oil top-ups, brake lining fixes and you get the drift.

Sam loved the grease. Midge did not have a car. So, there wasn’t a danger of she accidentally discovering him either. He hid out. Hoping never to be tapped on the back and hearing her cry out loud for Pete sake. Pete? Midge had nobody in the world who was named Pete. Was he the replacement to Sam? Sam postponed thinking about it. Sam stepped out to do whatever he does when he steps out.