A Familiar Old Song

I had walked into the old bar by the airport to get in out of the inclement misty soup. I was immediately struck by the song playing on the jukebox. It was our song, As Time Goes By. I knew all of the words and the melody as it had been very special. It had been our song, Elsa and me. Sam had known enough not to play it after she left me abandoned in Paris, but then I had been given a second chance to be with her when she walked into Rick’s Café Americain. The ivories tinkled that old, worn, comfortable melody. Hearing it was like putting on a favorite old sweater as memories washed over me. A flood of images flashed through my mind like photographs in a slide show. I could smell the thick choking smoke of Moroccan tobacco from so long ago. I could taste the spicy Moroccan food served in my café.

“Bartender, can I get a drink?” I asked.

The young woman turned around, and there she was!  But she couldn’t be! The same beautiful face, the same deep soulful eyes and sensual lips, how could this be?

“Elsa is that you?” I stammered out.

I’m sorry sir my name is Ellen. What can I get you?” she asked politely.

“I’ll have a shot Ellen, and you better leave the bottle, please.”

“Yes sir.”

I knew now that I was just a crazy old man, living in the past, a hollowed out old airplane hangar, unused and unwanted, still standing due to having become invisible and forgotten, no longer with a purpose or mission to be left standing.

“When you get a chance can you play, As Time Goes By again, for as many times as this will allow?” I asked, pushing some bills across the bar.

“Yes sir.”

 I had done the right thing. Victor needed her and loved her as dearly as I did, but his work was instrumental to the war effort. That was twenty-five years ago, but the emotions were still raw and unhealed. The melody played and the bottle evaporated as a stormy afternoon turned into night.

“Play it Sam, again and again,” I mumbled in my stupor.

 

Jim

Sept. 2020