The Face of the Enemy

Nora imagines the meeting with Roger. “I hope he thinks I look even more attractive than he expects. I want my beauty to knock him off his feet! I look better now than I looked in the photos I sent him, and he is going to be surprised!”

With that thought, Nora eats a few bites, puts her fork and napkin down and walks back to her designated seat. Glancing down at her perfectly manicured nails, Nora decides to be sure no scuffs have attacked her three-inch heels since boarding the train. She once again checks the knee-length black velvet skirt and well-fitting sheer black hosiery hugging her toned legs all the way down to her pointed black high-heels. The put-together look brings a little smile to her lips, as she sees not even one imperfection in the garment, hose or shoes. Locating a pocket mirror from deep within the recesses of her soft pink and black leather designer handbag, she flips it open and looks at her reflection, for the sixth time, assuring herself once again that her glowing olive complexion, luxurious black eyelashes, coconut brown eyes and plump, soft lips iced with sparkling mauve lip gloss, are as good as it’s going to get.

“Are these earrings good enough?” she asks herself before finally deciding that the dangly black and crystal earrings show the best balance of her sincerity and playfulness. Scrutinizing every inch, Nora decides that he’ll be pleased with what he sees.

However, the anxiety is impossible to squelch. It is increasing. Every moment of their interactions during the past year flashes before her eyes and replays within her ears. “What will he look like? Is there any chance that he looks like the man in the photo he sent?” she muses, trying to brace herself for what she will see and how it will affect her mind, heart and emotions.

Earlier months of emailing, text messaging and increasingly intimate phone calls, and more recent months of a totally different type of relationship, have led to this moment of revelation which both Nora and Roger are about to unwrap together. Preparation for this breath-taking event has been both calculated and a leap of faith. Nora is aware that the meeting will propel them forward into a new realm of truth with mighty force, either forever concluding or leading to another dimension in the destiny which has brought their lives together. Despite the long and frequent conversations over the phone, nothing could have completely prepared either of them for what Nora hopes will be the thrilling moment when they will meet for the first time, in person.

Nora stares out the window at the white, popcorn shaped clouds dotting the cool blue sky. Nora’s heart is confused. She wonders, “Will I still feel the same way I felt all year long, when all I had to help me imagine his presence was the phone that transmitted the sounds of his voice right to my heart? “ She whispers, “Oh my Lord, this is too much to bear. Why am I here? Is it you, Lord, wanting your compassion and love to flow through me? Or is it really my own weakness at being in a loveless, forlorn sham of a marriage?”

During the past year, she has presented Roger with a passionate love in many ways. While it has all been from a distance, somehow Roger has felt so near and responded so dearly to her. He has filled the chasm in her heart like no one else. Nora rarely thinks about the old, inconsequential pain in her life named Luis anymore. She tries to recall the last time Luis popped into her thoughts. She finally gives up.

As the train whisks Nora to her destination, thoughts continue to rush through her mind. She muses about turning the clock back. She had felt such a sweet love for and from Roger. “Will that wonderful, comforting feeling be there when we meet in person? It could go either way. Maybe I’ll be disappointed. Maybe he’ll be disappointed. I don’t think I’ll go through with this.”

She is about to talk herself into getting off at the next train stop and going back home. Just then, she hears God’s voice telling her, “Keep going… I am with you. I am arranging this, for you’ll be the perfect messenger.”

Nora glances down to see if she can see her heart pounding underneath her shirt. Again she tries to divert her attention to anything else. She begins to consciously focus on the sound of the wheels on the track, click clack, click clack. Without warning, the train starts slowing. The intensity of her anxiety increases. Nora purposefully takes in a long, deep breath and slowly releases it to the count of four, repeating the process several times. Suddenly the train comes to a stop. Nora’s legs are as shaky as a leaf in the wind as she rises from the seat and grabs her tan leather suitcase. With her purse tightly clutched under her arm and the suitcase pulled along behind, her wobbly legs take her to the door and down the train’s metal steps.

Muttering a “thank you” to the passenger conductor, her high-heels step out on the concrete. She has to shield her eyes for just a moment from the brightness of the day, and then her dark eyes pan the scene looking for the man who captured her heart and then carelessly tried to crush it. Had he known that it was attached to such a tenacious spirit, he probably wouldn’t have started down that road. As she takes a few steps toward the railway station, she feels a hand touching her shoulder. She wants to faint as she hears her name called softly.

“Nora? I’d know you anywhere.”

It is the same friendly voice she has planned her life around in so many ways. She turns and is shocked at what she sees.