Andy's Jane

If I say this in not a work of fiction, would you believe me?

"Hi! My name is Andy and I love Jane. Sorry for jumping straight into the topic, but I guess you got that from the title already. Loving her is all that I do, that's who I am. I could have told you about my family or friends but god only knows where they are. I have not seen them so long -I don't even miss them anymore. Jane's family is gone too. I'm glad they left her behind though. Now it's just the two of us surrounded by strangers in our own hometown.

Jane and I were childhood friends. I had known her even before we started school at Floydville Elementary. One of my earliest memories in there is watching her run playfully from classroom to the playground and around school. Her curly brown hair that went all the way to her shoulders would bounce in the rhythm of her body and follow her like a faithful pet. Her blue eyes like the stars in the night sky, her lips, her smile.... a single sight of her sent tickling sensations to my chest. When she was not around, I would paint pictures of her eyes, her lips, her smile on my head. Every single picture, even while they lasted only for a blink of my imagination, left me with a warm fuzzy feeling deep inside. A feeling that confused and excited me at the same time. I knew all the girls at school. Not that I was a popular kid or anything of that sort but there were just not too many of them. Heck I could name almost half the folks in town. Not a big deal when there are just three thousand folks living around. But Jane was special, there was no one like her then, there is no one like her now.

Sometimes when Jane is not around, I keep wondering where on earth could have all our classmates and friends gone. And what about all the folks in town? Maybe all the boys have joined the war and the girls found husbands in far away towns. I have asked Jane about their whereabouts quite a many times but her answers keep changing like the color of her hair. Right now its dark burgundy, before that it had been golden blonde. Brown, mahogany, copper, caramel, you name it, she has had them all. She says that she is an equal opportunity dyer. Well! whatever makes that means.

Let me tell you about Floydville. Ever since the colonists established tobacco plantations some hundreds years ago, folks here have been doing nothing but growing tobacco. Half the population works in the cigarette factories and the other half grows tobacco. Duke, Morris, all the big guys cash out our Carolina fields. I love the tobacco fields. Jane and I used to walk across the fields to the old abandoned farm house and smoke stolen cigarettes. Boy! had they found out, I would have gotten a good beating for stealing and Jane, I guess her family would have sent her to hell for she was a girl and times were different back then. We were in fourth grade when we smoked our first one. I stole it from my father one night when he was dead drunk. He smelt like the pool of filth we have on the outskirts of town. I was really scared but his snores that reminded me of the bears I saw back in Tennessee eased my anxiety a bit.

It was near the same abandoned farm house that I kissed Jane for the first time. That moment of bliss under the clear August sky lasted for a few seconds and felt like a hundred lifetimes. Jane was on her purple skirt; my favorite, her hair waving to the gentle breeze that passed by. I had my heart beating up in my ears. I was afraid it was going to explode or something, completing the sacrificial rite of a boy falling in love with a girl for the very first time. Boy! I can never  forget the summer of 1937.

By the way, what do y'all think of the war? Everyone seems to be frightened and worried. Jane keeps telling me that this war will be over and we will win. But how can she be so sure? We need to beat the shit out of those Nazis in Europe, else they will come here too. One thing that I simply cannot get my head around is how this single bastard Hitler can get a whole army to fight for crazy ideas and take over all of Europe? Jane thinks he is the most wicked, evil person to have ever lived. Our church pastor also seems convinced that he's Satan's reincarnation. Last Sunday during sermon, he spoke more than an hour about Hitler's bloodbath in Europe; his soldiers marching across Europe, killing all men who don't follow him, raping women, and torturing children. Pastor Harris suggests that it is the higher calling for all of us young men to fight this evil. I am so glad I have been drafted. Jane isn't too happy. She is afraid I may die in the war. But I'm not going to be deterred. America needs to win this war. I need to win Jane. I might be the good for nothing loafer that Jane thinks I am. I work in the field all day and get into drunken brawls all night. But I know I can change and I will change. I will come home from this war like a champion. Only then I will be worthy of proposing Jane. Even her mother who hates me from head to toe will have to agree. Well, who will care about her then anyway?

Do you think she'll marry me if I do that? I can never be sure. She just laughs over it when I tell her about my plan. She insists time and again that there is no need to go to any war. Is she out of her mind? Last morning when I told her that I am really looking forward to serving the draft she told me I could do whatever I want. I swallowed those bitter pills that she gave me, questioning myself yet again whether she really loved me or not. Often she chooses all the right words and yet they sound so fake when they come out of her mouth. I feel as if the sole purpose of those words is to not hurt my feelings. Man! she really acts weird these days; she wears these strange dresses and talks to people I don't know. I'm clueless about her obsession with her white coat and pajamas. Honestly, the only day I would like to see her on whites would be the day of our marriage. I'm sick of complaining about all these issues that she thinks are just too trivial. It makes me want to go to the war even sooner. Maybe that is going to make her miss me. Maybe then she will appreciate the true value of my love.

This goddamned war has really changed everything, I see folks around me are not the same as they used to be. Sometimes I get real paranoid when I can't see one single face that I can recognize, except for Jane's of course. I try to find my peace on the verses of the Genesis. Who knows it might all be god's plan to put Jane and I as Adam and Eve in this town; our Garden of Eden. It's not that the town has deserted or anything. In fact there are more people than ever, so many strange faces walking down the street, crowding the hallway, and basking in sun on the courtyard. I hate it when they stare at me with their curious faces. They must have a million questions to ask just like I do. It really gets me on my nerves, I lose my calm and whenever that happens, I find myself running back to my room to the comfort of Jane. For some reasons, she is always here, well not always, like that last time I had that nightmare. I saw that some Nazi soldiers had surrounded me somewhere in Italy and were throwing bombs at me. I woke up shaking with fear, my shirt wet with sweat that I thought was my blood for a while. It was midnight. I looked for Jane all around the house but she was nowhere to be found. There was another girl dressed up like Jane who told me that Jane was out of town. She was nice and polite but won't tell me why Jane had left. I don't know what that girl was doing in my house at the middle of the night, just like I don't have a clue about all the strangers living here. Funny old people, pretty girls, white folks, black folks, I see all of 'em walking around. It would be nice to know them and ask why they are here but somehow a single face never appears twice. Believe me they're always strangers! But again, I don't mind them being here as long as Jane's here with me.

Jane told me that people had struck goldmines somewhere in Virginia. That's where she said all our friends and family and other Floydville folks have moved to. I hope they are all rich and happy now. But just days before this story, I remember Jane telling me that her family had moved to upstate New York and my mother left my father to marry a guy from Norman. My father as she told, got too drunk one night and was found dead on a ditch by the factory next morning. Jane's stories are always contradicting. While her explanations make no sense at all, I have mastered the skills of hiding my doubts from her. I don't let my disbelief to persuade me to argue against her. She is way more important to me than truth itself.

I hope I haven't bored you with my babbling. Wait! I see her walking towards me. I'll ask her to tell you about our story. Please listen to her carefully for she may tell you if she is ever going to marry me!"

"Hey Jane, can you tell the readers about our love?"

"Alright Andy but not in front of you. You know when you stare me like that while I talk to them, I get shy. Can you go back to your room and sleep?"

"Aite Aite, you always make me do things I don't like! But once I come back from the war, I'll show you what I can do."

Andy obeys her like a child, slowly makes his way to his room.

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"Hi readers! Let me start by saying what Mr. Andy Hill has already told you. He loved Jane. She was his purpose, his journey, and his destination. She was his life, she still is, and she shall be. The second world war brought a tsunami of change on every shores of the world but the fervor of Andy's love for Jane remained unscathed. Frustrated by the impasse that surrounded his life in Floydville and encouraged by a glimmer of hope that could turn all the stars to his favor, Andy went to the war on the draft. He was deployed to the Allied Forces' base in Italy. Jane bid him goodbye. She made no efforts to control her tears. Andy felt good. His confidence boosted, and his morals high, he was cautiously excited to have found a purpose in life.

He met his fellow soldiers, his officers, and the locals of that ravaged Italian town of Rimana among whom he found new friends. He missed Jane a lot but he was proud that he was serving his duty for his beloved motherland. He took pride and honor to be one of those fortunate ones to answer the call of his nation. After about a month of training at the base, they started deploying him to combat zones. He fought with a spirit that could only be surpassed by his passion for Jane. All the officers were impressed with his bravery, his peers would wonder why this Carolinian chap would enjoy going to combat zones as if they were Saturday weddings.

Like the January sun, his gallantry was short-lived. One that would shine with brilliance at midday just to set set on a dusty horizon to a chilly evening. It must have been around six months that he was there when one day, his whole platoon got into an ambush set by the Germans. Andy was the lone survivor, rescued two days later at a spot, a few hundred feet away from the crossfire. They carried his body back to the base; unconscious, soaked in blood. His lifeless body could have easily been mistaken as yet one more casualty. But one of his rescuers spotted his broad chest moving up and down--with a gentle rhythm like that of an old clock. They got him back to the base.

Andy had lost his senses and and couldn't utter a single word for months. They tried everything they could at the preliminary treatment services in Rimana but he showed little response to whatever care they offered. A month passed by and still Andy with his moon like face would torment the medical team with his morbid silence. Finally, the miracle came in the form of Dr Bernhardt Walters. Also known as 'the savior doc', this compassionate soul traveled from base to base all around Europe healing wounded soldiers, specially those who have lost consciousness or in a coma. Dr Walters' touch worked wonders again. Andy opened his eyes, could utter a few words which meant he was ready to be sent back home for further treatment. He was back in America, not too far from home, but no one in Floydville initially knew about his whereabouts. He looked worried and confused as he walked silently through the main gate and looked up at the building before following the orderlies to a tiny room in the second floor; his new home at the military rehabilitation center here in Raleigh.
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Later on Jane got the news. She was heartbroken, and may be that was the reason she started thinking with her brain. She knew she loved Andy but love wasn't enough to survive in those harsh times. Her pragmatism and common sense stopped her from seeing Andy, but they couldn't stop her from weeping at the window every evening staring at the sunset that glazed the tobacco field. Her mother had used all her authority to make sure Jane understood what she was supposed to do. A trip to Raleigh was obviously not on her approval list.Before Jane could figure out what to do besides losing herself on the tobacco fields every evening, her mother brought a fine young man named Carl Smith to introduce her. He owned a press in Buffalo and was keen on impressing everyone with his gentleman talk and businessman attire. Andy's voicelessness transcended to Jane as she couldn't speak a word when her mother finalized her marriage. Soon she was in upstate New York with the name Mrs. Jane Smith.

While back in Raleigh, Andy started making some good progress. It took him two months at the center to utter his first word. I assume you have guessed what that word was. If 'Jane' was the word you thought, then pat yourself on the back and keep reading. Andy started recalling different things including his own name, the names of his mother and father, Jane's brother, the name of his hometown, his love for Jane, her mother who won't let him marry her, and his plan to join the war to win Jane's heart. Everyone in the center thought this was no short of a miracle; the mental ward janitor Ruth who knew nothing about modern marvels of medical science felt it was a pure grace of god. "The young man must be a true believer!", she had remarked.

The medical team of psychologists, psychoanalysts, and all of them whose professional titles started with the root 'psycho' tried from electric shocks to crystal balls to get Andy convinced that after he had joined the war, he got into an ambush, lost his senses, and ended up here while Jane up in New York, was married and had a baby boy whom they had named Charles Kyle after Carl's father. Andy too seemed to be trying really hard, specially when they moved that magnetic pendulum in front of his eyes, but all that concentration couldn't revive anything back to his memory beyond the point when he had decided to join the army.

Desperation and restlessness masked Andy's innocent face as he wandered listlessly through the corridors and stairways of the center. Everyday he would set out in search of Jane, but these quests always ended up in the refuge of his room that was as gloomy as the morning they had found his father's corpse in that ditch next to the church. Nights and days meant little to him, hostile to the nurses and staff he slowly started turning into a beast. But one fine day it all changed, the blues in the air made way to the freshness of a million roses of springtime, the melancholy morphed into ecstasy. Life was beautiful once again, paradise dawned into his world for he had found his Jane.

Andy was the merriest lad in the whole universe as he danced in the air and sang old love songs from dawn to dusk. The psycho-team that I mentioned previously had ordered Ruth to be whatever Andy wanted her to be. Poor girl had no choice but to obey them. It was hard at first but after years of following the orders from the psycho-professionals and her own acting instincts made her Janier than Jane herself. This love story lasted twenty springs and summers before Ruth finally retired from the center. A few gloomy days followed before Andy fell in love with Jane again; I mean Mary; the mental ward attendant. They had told me that this affair between Andy and his Jane Mary was on it's twenty second year when I first came here as a psychiatrist.

Mary too retired three years after I came here. It meant that they had to find a new Jane for him. Rita, Melissa, Monica, and every other girl who works here were used as trials but this time Andy won't be convinced. Finally, out of shear desperation they approached me. I knew I couldn't say no as my desire to do professional research on Andy's special type of amnesia wasn't my only intention behind coming to the center. I had to be Andy's new Jane and I knew that he won't reject me. Please don't doubt my confidence, after a few lines you'll know the reason why.

And so it happened as planned, I became Andy's new Jane. We celebrated the second anniversary of our love story last week. I owe it to Andy, I owe him happiness. My initial plan was to study his case for one year and go back to New York but sometimes professional responsibilities crumble in front of personal obligations. If you are wondering who I am, let me introduce myself, I am Dr Carole Smith; Charles Kyle Smith's daughter; Jane's granddaughter. Grandma had told me her story before she passed away at her deathbed in Buffalo few years ago.

Sometimes when I observe Andy's sixty two years old face, every single wrinkle deep like a canyon, twisted and bent like his own fate provokes a thought inside me. I imagine what would have happened if he hadn't gone to war, what if he had married my grandma, and what if his destiny didn't confine him to a single room and a single moment for decades? Well I won't be here on earth telling you this story, that's one thing for sure. I worry what would happen to him after I leave the center. I have collected all the data for this case study and would be leaving in a few months. As much as I hate to leave him behind, I have assured myself that he would find another Jane, and another, and another. Grandma could have never loved Andy the way he loves her; a pure and passionate love that has stood tall as a mountain against all tests of time. I'm sure this love full of devotion and joy; ardor and bliss, with the simplicity of the childhood, fervor of the youth, and warmth of the old age will take its cycles till the end of time, and Andy would live a forever youth to rejoice, sing, and dance to his Jane, to me, to you, and to humanity. It doesn't matter who plays Jane and who plays Andy. Lovers change but love will prevail.

Let me go see if Andy is asleep."