LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 1

Jon walked down Broadway Thursday toward Tom’s to eat breakfast. He had taken this stroll hundreds of times after being at Columbia for five years during which he had eaten breakfast at all possible alternatives and found Tom’s to be categorically the best in Morningside Heights. It was a beautiful Fall morning. Monday he would begin the second and last school year at Columbia, and in the Spring of 2027, he would receive his MFA from the School of the Arts.

When Jon entered Tom’s, he was stunned. Sitting three down in aisle 3 on the right side in a booth by herself was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. After standing still for a few moments, Jon slowly walked toward this woman and stopped, then spoke.

“Hi, I’m Jon Witherston. May I join you?”

The young woman responded, “Sure.” Jon sat down.

“I’m Bian Ly. It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

“I’m assuming you’re a student at Columbia,” said Jon.

“Yes, I’m a senior at the College. Are you also a student?” asked Bian.

“Yes, I am. In fact, I graduated from Columbia College a year ago. Next Spring, I’ll be receiving my MFA from the School of the Arts. I’m a poet,” said Jon.

“A poet! How wonderful!,” exclaimed Bian.

“Thank you, Bian. What’s your major?” asked Jon.

“I'm majoring in Human Rights,” replied Bian.

“The world needs to major in Human Rights!” said Jon.

Bian smiled.

At that point, the waitress came over and took their orders. Both wanted breakfast.

“That is a beautiful ring you are wearing on your little finger,” said Bian.

“That a Nacoms ring,” said Jon. “Nacoms is a senior society at the College. I was selected to be a member,” said Jon. “I was Head of NSOP. Where are you from, Bian?

“I’m from Hanoi,” said Bian.

“Hanoi is a long way from Topeka, Kansas where I grew up, but I did come East to attend Andover,” said Jon.

“I also attended boarding school, but in Hanoi, not Massachusetts. I graduated from Hanoi International School,” said Bian.

“It seems we have a lot in common,” said Jon.

The waitress brought their breakfasts, which they started eating.

After finishing their meals, the two chatted for about twenty minutes, then Jon said, “Bian, before I bid you a good rest of your day, I’d like to ask you if you might like to join me to visit the Guggenheim Museum to see a showing of Vasily Kandinsky’s paintings this Saturday afternoon then be my guest for dinner at your favorite Italian restaurant in Morningside Heights.”

“I’d love to,” replied Bian.

“I’ll pick you up about 2 p.m. Where do you live?” asked Jon.

“I live in Harley Hall,” said Bian.

“Hartley Hall–that’s where I lived all four years during my undergraduate days,” remarked Jon. “ You’ve got a couple of days to pick out your favorite Italian restaurant,” added Jon. “I’ll wait in the lobby for you.”

Bian smiled again and got out of the booth.

“See you this Saturday at 2,” Jon said as he waited for Bian to leave first. Then he just sat in the booth for a while and smiled, too.


Jon arrived at Hartley Hall a bit early Saturday afternoon. He sat in the lobby on a soft leather sofa. Hartley Hall. Columbia. Four years. It had been an amazing time. Chad Willington, a fellow Andover graduate from Richmond, Virginia, was his roommate all four years. A tremendous swimmer, Chad had been elected captain of the team both his junior and senior years. He was now working at Goldman Sachs on Wall Street. Jon’s most cherished honor while he was at the College was being elected by his 1,400 classmates to be one of 15 Class Marshals to lead the Commencement Procession.

Bian came into the lounge. She looked beautiful.

“How are you, Bian? Are you ready to go see Kandinsky?” asked Jon.

“Indeed, I am,” said Bian.

“Let’s go, then,” said Jon.

The two walked across campus on College Walk to Broadway where Jon hailed a cab.

“Please take us to the Guggenheim Museum,” Jon told the cabbie. The cab cut through Central Park to upper 5th Avenue.

“We’re here,” said Jon and paid and tipped the cabbie.

The Guggenheim itself was a spectacular piece of architecture designed by Frank Lloyd Wright that spiraled into the blue sky. Jon paid for the admission tickets, then both entered the museum and took the elevator to the top of the building. Then began the slow descent to the bottom on the long, spiraling walkway, pausing when they wanted to the see a Kandinsky painting closely and talking with each other about it.

Vasily Kandinsky was a Russian painter and theorist, becoming prominent in the early decades of the 20th Century. Having moved first from Russia to Germany, he then went to France. Kandinsky was a pioneer of abstraction in Western art. He was keenly interested in spiritual expression:  “inner necessity” is what he called it.

It took quite a while to make their way down the spiraling ramp, stopping at almost every painting to share their views. Finally, Bian and Jon reached the bottom.

“Well, that was most interesting,” said Bian.

“I agree,” said Jon. “Have you decided which is your favorite Italian restaurant in Morningside Heights, Bian?” asked Jon.

“Pisticci,” said Bian.

“Let's go!,” said Jon.

They took a cab to Pisticci. The waiter brought them menus, which they began to peruse.

“You first,” Jon said to Bian.

“I would like the Insalata Pisticci (bed of baby spinach tossed with potatoes and pancetta with balsamic reduction). Then Suppe Minestrone (with a clear tomato base and al dente vegetables). Finally, I would like the Fettuccine Al Fungi (handmade fettuccine tossed with a trio of warm, earthy mushrooms and truffle oil),” concluded Bian.

Jon followed. “I would also like the Insalata Pisticci, then the Suppe Minestrone, followed by the Pappardelle Bolognesse, then the Burrata Caprese. Thank you.”

Bian and Jon ate their meals in candlelight.

“Tell me about growing up in Hanoi,” Jon asked Bian.

“I am an only child, Jon. My father is Minh Ly and my mother is Lieu. My father was the youngest General in the war;  nevertheless, he rose to second in command. He has been a businessman now for a long time.

“My childhood was like those of most children. As I grew older, I loved playing volleyball. I read a lot. I began learning English at an early age. I had lots of friends. I love my father and mother very much.”

“Why did you come to Columbia,” asked Jon.

“Columbia, as you know, is one of the greatest universities in the world, and it’s in New York City,” said Bian.

“Why did you choose to major in Human Rights, Bian,” asked Jon.

“The world, and the people and all other living creations on it, need kindness and love to heal. All have been sick for millennia. I would like to help heal Earth,” said Bian.

Jon was struck by Bian’s words. He felt the same as Bian.

The two continued to share more with each other. Finally, it was time to go.

They took a cab back to campus and Jon escorted Bian back to Hartley Hall.

“I’d like to exchange phone numbers with you. Is that OK with you?” Jon asked.

“Of course,” said Bian.

“Thank you for a wonderful day, Bian,” said Jon.

“And you the same, Jon,” said Bian.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 2

Jon picked up his receiver and gave Bian a call from his apartment.

“Bian?”, asked Jon.

“Yes,” replied Bian.

“This is Jon calling. Do you have a minute or two to talk?”

“Yes, I do,” said Bian.

“Well, first let me ask how you’re doing,” said Jon.

“I’m doing well, Jon,” said Bian.

“And school, how’s that going?” asked Jon.

“Well, I'm off to a busy start, but that’s not surprising,” said Bian.

“I’m calling to ask if you would like to go with me this Sunday afternoon and hear Mario Abdo Benitez, president of Paraguay, speak at the World Leaders Forum in Low Library, then afterwards have an early picnic meal in Riverside Park with me.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful!” said Bian.

“Great. I’ll meet you again in the Hartley Hall lobby around quarter of 2. Will that work for you?” asked Jon.

“Yes, Jon, that will work fine. Thanks for the double invitation,” said Bian.

“Oh, and by the way, I’ll have our picnic meal ready for us. We’ll have to pick it up at my apartment after the talk. I live on Riverside Drive between 114th and 115th Streets,” said Jon.

“I look forward to both,” said Bian.

“Have a good rest of the week,” said Jon. “See you Sunday.”


Jon got to the Hartley Hall lobby a bit early Sunday afternoon and sat down on a sofa to wait for Bian. On Saturday, Jon had composed his most recent poem and he had brought it and two others to read to Bian during their picnic. After a short wait, Bian entered the lobby.

“Bian, it's so nice to see you again,” said Jon.

“It’s so nice to see you, too,” said Bian.

“Well, are we ready to head out?” said Jon.

“I am,” said Bian.

“OK, let’s go,” said Jon.

The two headed toward Low Library, now no longer a library, but the main administrative center of the University. Further, the Rotunda was glorious. That’s where President Benitez would be speaking.  

The President began his speech with a concise history of Paraguay followed by his attempts to deal with the societal ills in his country, and then spoke at length about his belief, his wish, for all nations in both Central and South America to be united into one nation. Finally, he took a number of questions from members of the audience. The program lasted about an hour.

“I found President Benitez’s comments about the potential unification of all countries in Central and South America united provocative,” said Jon.

“The world is one. Why not start with all nations in Central and South America?” added Bian as she and Jon walked down the steps in front of Low Library.


“Another beautiful Fall day,” said Jon. “A beautiful day for a picnic.”

They headed down College walk, crossed Broadway, then turned left on Riverside Drive and walked toward Jon’s apartment building that was just beyond 115th Street.

“Come on up while I gather all the picnic items,” said Jon, so they took the elevator to the 5th floor, got out, and walked down the hallway to Apt. 515.

“Here’s where I live,” said Jon. Bian entered first.

“You have a beautiful view of the park and the Hudson River, Jon,” said Bian.

Jon put all picnic items from the refrigerator into a large bag and grabbed the large, folded blanket lying on the sofa in the living room, then said, “Now let’s go find a great spot to have a picnic,” said Jon.

The two crossed Riverside Drive and entered Riverside Park. After spending several minutes looking around, Bian said, “Over there. That looks like a nice spot.”

When they got to the spot, Jon put everything he had been carrying on the ground and unfolded the blanket and spread it out.

"This will be an old-fashioned Kansas picnic, Bian. I hope you like it,” said Jon.

Bian sat down on the blanket. Jon began emptying the bag.

“We have before us pieces of fried chicken, coleslaw, baked beans, cleaned strips of carrots and celery, and black olives. Here are the paper plates, utensils, napkins, and cups, along with a container of cool water. I brought water because I don’t drink alcohol.” said Jon. “Plus, I have a surprise dessert.”

Jon then sat down and gave Bian a plate, utensils, and a napkin. “Help yourself, Bian, and enjoy.” And so they did.

After both had eaten everything on their plates, Jon said, “And now for the surprise,”

He reached into the bottom of the bag for the plastic container and pulled it out.

“I have here two pieces of chocolate cake from the Hungarian Pastry Shop,” he said.

“Oh, the cake looks delicious!” said Bian.

Jon carefully put the pieces of cake on plates, then handed one to Bian.

“We had no Hungarian Pastry Shop in Kansas,” said Jon.

After eating their pieces of chocolate cake, Bian and Jon chatted for quite a while, mostly about their respective childhoods, which were, surprisingly enough, quite similar. Being loved by one’s parents, especially, was the most important experience that both shared.

“I’d like to share with you, Bian, several poems I’ve recently written,” said Jon.

“I’d like that very much,” said Bian.

“The first one I’ll recite is titled I WRITE WHEN THE RIVER’S DOWN.

I WRITE WHEN THE RIVER’S DOWN

I write when the river’s down,
when the ground’s as hard as
a banker’s disposition and as
cracked as an old woman’s face.
I write when the air is still
and the tired leaves of the
dying elm tree are a mosaic
against the bird-blue sky.
I write when the old bird dog,
Sam, is too tired to chase
rabbits, which is his habit
on temperate days. I write when
horses lie on burnt grass,
when the sun is always
high noon, when hope melts like
yellow butter near the kitchen
window. I write when there
are no cherry pies in the
oven, when heartache comes
like a dust storm in early
morning. I write when the
river’s down, and sadness
grows like cockle burs in
my heart.


The next poem is titled THERE WILL COME A TIME.

THERE WILL COME A TIME

There will come a time
when time doesn’t matter,
when all minutes and
millennia are but moments
when I look into your eyes.
There will come a time
when clinging things
will fall like desiccated
leaves, leaving us with
but one another. There
will come a time when
the external becomes eternal,
when holding you is to
embrace the universe.
There will come a time
when to be will no longer
be infinitive, but infinity,
and you and I are one.


The last poem I’ll share with you today is THERE IS A TENDER WAY TO TOUCH YOU.


THERE IS A TENDER WAY TO TOUCH YOU

There is a tender way to touch you,
not more than a brush across your cheek.
I seek a gentle kiss so not to miss your soft
and red-rose lips that meet mine, the glory
of your darkened hair that falls across my face
as I unlace your flowered blouse to place
my fingertips upon your silk-like skin to begin
to love the rest of you. I lay you down on soft,
blue sheets, your head upon pillows made of
wild willow leaves softer than robin’s feathers.
I bare your beauty slowly that glows like a candle’s
flame in a room that is at once dark and bright.
The light comes from your luminous eyes that smile
at me as I reveal the rest of you from waist to knees
to heels and toes. No one knows the tender touch
I bestow upon your gentle being that I alone am seeing.


“Thank you, Jon, for sharing these poems with me. They moved me. I hope you’ll share others with me,” said Bian.

It was time to call it an afternoon. Jon walked with Bian all the way back to Hartley Hall.

“Have a good week, Bian,” said Jon, then leaned forward and
kissed her lips lightly.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 3

Jon had fallen in love with Bian the instant he saw her. Staring at the Hudson River in early evening through his living room window, Jon wondered how it could have happened. Then he thought he could wonder forever, but it would never matter:  Jon knew he was in love, completely in love.

Jon was not only extremely bright, he was also extremely handsome. Beginning in junior high and then at Andover, he had had a number of girlfriends, which was also the case when he was a Columbia undergraduate.

But Bian was magically different from all his former girlfriends, ineffably so. As a poet, he had come to realize one should never force any creation. By extrapolation, he now realized the same was true about being swept away by Bian. It had happened. Rather than try to understand the miraculous, Jon now should just feel blessed and let himself be awash with joy. Let things naturally unfold, Jon concluded.


“Bian?” said Jon.

“Yes, this is she.”

“This is Jon. Do you have a moment to chat?” asked Jon.

“Yes, I do, Jon,” said Bian.

“How are you? How’s your week going?” asked Jon.

“It’s been busy, but that’s the way it usually is. How are you doing?”, asked Bian.

“The same. I have a question. This Saturday night, the New York Philharmonic is performing Beethoven’s Emperor Concerto. Would you like to go hear it with me?” asked Jon.

“I’d love to,” replied Bian.

“Wonderful!” replied Jon. “The performance begins at 8. If we take a cab, we should leave about 7:30, so I’ll pick you up about 7:15 at Hartley. How does that sound?” said Jon.

“It sounds great,” said Bian.

“Good. I’ll see you then,” said Jon.

Jon sat in the Hartley lobby waiting for Bian. He had gotten there a bit early. He began to reminisce about how Chad enjoyed playing classical music in their dorm room. Jon’s favorite was Beethoven. Over the years, Jon had listened to about every piece Beethoven had composed:  all of his nine symphonies, all of his piano concertos, all the sonatas, and his “Cycle,” all of his chamber-music pieces. Jon had even seen and heard Beethoven’s opera, FIDELIO. Though Beethoven became deaf, he never lost his “passion,” a quality Jon modestly thought he shared with Beethoven.

“Good evening, Jon,” said Bian as she entered the lobby.

“Good evening, Bian. You look lovely,” said Jon. “Shall we head out?”

Bian nodded.

The two walked to Broadway and caught a cab. They arrived at Lincoln Center in minutes. Attending a performance by the New York Philharmonic at Lincoln Center was quintessential New York City. Hundreds of music lovers–some in tuxedos and gowns, other in blue jeans–flooded into David Geffen Hall. After the audience quieted down, Jaap van Sweden, the conductor, strolled to the podium accompanied by generous applause. Then the orchestra began to play.

For Jon, listening to any live concerto by Beethoven put him into a dreamlike trance. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. The glorious music wafted over him. In one sense, the performance lasted but seconds; in another, it never ended.

When the performance concluded, Jon asked Bian, “I’d like to take you to Terra Blue, a nightspot in Greenwich Village. Do you think you’d enjoy that?

“Sure. Sounds like fun,” said Bian.

As the two sat at a table in Terra Blue, Bian said, “You know, Jon, the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund state that on average 10,000 children around the world die of starvation every day. These global agencies, to my mind and heart, care more about statistics than the well-being of children on Earth. This is unconscionable, and it’s only one of hundreds of injustices perpetrated on the poor throughout the world.”

Jon sat in silence for several moments assimilating both the statistics Bian had just shared, as well as the deep, emotional effect they were having on him.

“I remember too well the stories my father told me about the war as I was growing up–not just the killing, the endless brutality on both sides, the utter destruction not only of human lives, but also of entire villages and the human lives that were ended by both bullets and ******, and the world is continuing to commit atrocities on every continent, in every nation, in countless cities, in small towns–everywhere. Humanity now faces the existential threats of climate change and nuclear holocaust.”

“You’re right, Bian. You’re absolutely right,” said Jon.

The two continued talking about these and other related issues, and Jon realized anew how much he loved her, and now, how much he respected her as a human being.

party zone with johnny brown, tribute to jon engish


johnny’  how are you going dudes and welcome to this very special tribute

to one of our most popular entertainers, jon english and our first jingler is pam

pam’  i am wandering through the hall of fame and i see so many things

but nothing was better than when i met jon english

he had songs like hollywood 7 and six ribbons, how ace

and jesus christ superstar and the great performance hairsprsy

you see, jon, your the greatest man that i have ever met

and mate heaven is a waiting you to fly up on your jet

jon english, mate, is a great man

singer and actor of stage and screen

i was not born for against the wind, yo

but jon english is all together now with all his great stuff

johnny’  ok thank you pam and now here is peter with his great jingle

peter’  you see he was travelling for miles miles

everyone thought he was cool

you see all the strangers and his close friends said jon your rad

you see i wonder if jon english ever went to hollywood 7

or is it just a song to sing about forever

and is jon english a great actor or what

i remember watchig all together man, that was funny oh yeah

and against the wind was one of his most serious roles

ya see jon english is our man and his name in heaven goes up in lights

everyone is invited to his opening shows up there, pretty cool aha

he will play a 3 hour concert on first night and 1 hour in the second

jon english will charge for the concerts about 7 bucks a night

which makes it 14

johnny’  thank you peter and now here is john with his jingle

john’  if i *** a singer like jon english is

i will sing the songs that made him famous

you see i will sing six ribbons with so much class

and hollywood 7 will show so much class

i will start by singing yesterday was a memory

it might have been when rock and roll never forgets

forgives and regrets making it all together now

and if i had made it to the number 1

i will buy a jon english album to learn about the many songs he sang

johnny’  thanks john and now here is red tape to sing hollywood 7

red tape’
She came in one night from Omaha, worn out
'Cause she never could sleep on trains
She took the bus to Hollywood
Lookin' for a room in the pourin' rain
With her hair so blonde and her eyes so brown
She thought she'd take this town and turn it upside down

Well I was livin' in a hotel just off Sunset
She moved in across the hall
And she said she'd be a movie star
And waited every mornin' for the ca-all
So I asked her in to share a drink
But she hardly had the ti-ime
A call might come tomorrow
She had to learn her li-ines

On Hollywood Seven
Rooms to rent till your name goes up in lights
Oh-oh Hollywood Seven
You can dream your dreams for seven bucks a night

Well, the months went by without a job
The money that she saved was nearly spent
So she started bringin' strangers home
Tryin' to find a way to pay the rent
Well she'd sit down and drink my coffee
With nothin' much to say-ay
Just busy rehearsin' in her mind
The scenes she'd never play-ay

On Hollywood Seven, rooms to rent
Till your name goes up in lights
Oh-oh, Hollywood Seven
You can dream your dreams for seven bucks a night

Well I found her there one mornin'
When she didn't come for coffee when I ca-alled
She'd gone and brought the wrong one home this time
There were crazy lipstick marks up on the wa-all
Now she's goin' back to Omaha but not the way she'd pla-anned
There'll be no crowd to cheer her on, no welcome home, no ba-and

On Hollywood Seven, rooms to rent, till your name goes up in lights
Oh Hollywood Seven, you can dream your dreams for seven bucks a night
On Hollywood Seven, dreams to rent, till your name goes up in lights
Oh-oh Hollywood Seven, you can pay your dues for seven bucks a night

johnny’  and now dudes let’s sing jesus christ superstar


everyone who performed’ jesus christ superstar

your mate jon english is coming up to join ya

jesus christ superstar

and when he arrives there will be a big a party like you have never seen

you see i miss you jon, you are too good to die

but up there in eternity there is no flies

and the music is hot and you are great

up in eternity you feel like you made sacrifice

jesus christ superstar

your mate jon english is coming up to join ya

jesus christ superstar

and when he arrives there will be a pig party like you never seen

and now as we move up to the top of the world

you are planning to sing hollywood 7 oh yeah

why would a room be 7 bucks a night jon english

only you will know

jesus christ wuperstar

your mate jon english is coming up to ya

jesus christ superstar

and when he arrives there will be the biggest party like you never seen

joihnny’  thanks dudes and now here is seven year old katie whyslat singing six ribbons

katie’    


if i were a minstrel, i’d sing you six love songs

to tell the whole world of the love that we share

if i were a merchant i’d bring you six diamonds

with six blood red roses for my love to wear

but jon english was a simple man a great entertainer

so i will take those six ribbons to tie back my hair

if jon english didn’t die, it will not be as sad

he will still be singing great songs oh yeah

but the bad news he did die, the great entertainer

so take me six ribbons for eternity to share

johnny’   thank you everyone for putting on a great show

and thanks for wearing jon english wigs and  now let’s lift up our voices

and sing

for jon english was a very good person

for jon english was a very good person

for jon english was a very good person

and so say all of us

and so say all of us

and so say all of us

for jon english was a vert good person

and so say all of us

johnny’  whether it’s the hollywood 7 or jesus christ superstar

or against the wind or even all together now

jon english was a very good fellow

and he made each party great

johnny’   catch ya later dudes

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 12


Jon was thinking of Mietek as he and Bian were flying back to Boston from Lima, Peru. Bian, beside him, was asleep.

It was on a Saturday morning in early spring that Jon, then an Upper-Middler at Andover, decided to walk to the Andover Bookstore at 74 Main Street. He wanted to purchase THE AGE OF REASON BEGINS, Volume VII of the eleven volumes that constituted THE STORY OF CIVILIZATION written by Will and Ariel Durant from 1935 to 1975. It was a beautiful day, Jon remembered, a perfect day to go on a walk.

When he entered the bookstore, Jon asked the manger where he might find the book he wanted to buy. The manager told him he could find it down aisle Three halfway down on the right side. Jon thanked the manager, then found aisle Three, turned left, and walked down the aisle until he found the book he wanted. He pulled the book from the shelf and began perusing it.

Several minutes after Jon began reading, a man came down the same aisle and stopped about three feet to his right and began, as Jon had done, perusing a book he had pulled from the same shelf. Several minutes went by before the man said, “Excuse me, may I introduce myself? My name is Mietek.”

Jon was a bit startled, but nonetheless he responded. “My name is Jon. Nice to meet you, Mietek.”

Then ensued what turned out to be a long conversation between the two. Mietek was from Krakow, Poland and had been in the United States for about three months he told Jon and was in his mid-thirties. Mietek seemed like a cordial fellow, Jon thought, and continued to converse with him. Mietek had begun his tour of America. He had heard of Andover, as well as Exeter, and wanted to see the former, the oldest prep school (1776) in the United States. The two talked of many things. Finally, after a pause, Mietek asked Jon, “Jon, I’d like to stare into your eyes.”

“What?” Jon said.

“I’d like to stare into your eyes to read the tapes that will tell your future,” said Mietek.

“Tapes?” asked Jon quiizzically.

“Yes” replied Mietek. "Everyone has tapes in his eyes that tell that person’s future, but very few can see and read them. Obviously, I’m one of them.”

Jon paused more than a moment, then said to Mietek, “OK, let’s do it.”

Mietek had Jon stand directly in front him and asked him to open his eyes widely. When Jon complied, Mietek began staring into his eyes. Mietek stared into Jon’s eyes for several minutes, then stopped.

“You can relax now. I’d like to share with you what I saw,” said Mietek.

“Sure, Mietek, I’d like to know what you saw,” said Jon eagerly.

“I saw joy, Jon” said Mietek. "The rest of your life will be full of joy.”

Jon was dumbfounded. He could not say a word. Finally, he said, “Joy? My life will be full of joy?

“Yes, Jon, that’s right,” said Mietek.

The two stood facing each other in silence for several minutes. Then Mietek told Jon had to go and slowly walked out of the Andover Bookstore.


Jon came out out of his reverie and looked at Bian. She was still asleep.

“Jesus, I think Mietek was right. Ever since I first saw Bian, my life has been full of joy,” Jon thought to himself. “Joy, pure joy!”

The rest of November and early December were full of much research, comparing each other’s thoughts and ideas, and the building excitement as the two anticipated the beginning of their two-year trip around the world.

Cape Cod was now cold, but the hearts of Bian and Jon were increasingly warm.