It is said that the aroma of love always smells in the air, but it is smelled only by those whose olfactory nerves are specially arranged by Aphrodite, the goddess of love. And so were Palo and Stina, two of such people. The two had accidentally met at a clinic where each had gone for a purpose different from the other. He was a doctor, and she was a patient. Stina entered his office, in a building accommodating the clinic.
Upon entering the office, she quietly shut the door behind her and stood, waiting for some words from the man. She was being respectful. The doctor, Paka, whose head was bowed, as he tried to finish writing on the chart of the patient that had just left his office, had his glasses virtually hanging on his nose like an old Congo lady trying to sew her clothes.
He finished the writing and said, “Be seated, please.”
Stina sat and adjusted herself in the chair. “Thank you, Sir,” she said.
“What happened to you, fine lady?” he enquired.
“My chest hurts,” she responded.
“About two days now.”
Paka left his seat, took his stethoscope and went to the Stina. “Could you pull your blouse up to your chest? I want to check you,” instructed Dr. Paka. Sheput her handbag on the arm of her chair and obeyed the instruction.
He held her chest with his left hand and placed the equipment on her back, placing them at a few different spots. He listened. Then he changed position. He placed his left hand on her back and placed the equipment on her chest, moving it and positioning it at various spots. His eyes had already viewed her well-shaped body. He looked at her stomach and looked at her breasts. His heart beat. He swallowed spit.
He placed the equipment between her breasts, his eyes penetrating the bra hosting the girl’s breasts more than his ears were listening to the beat of her internal organs. He swallowed spit again. Doctors have a way of pretending to act brave on beautiful female patients.
As he moved his hand, the girl, too, observed his long fingers and light-skinned hand move between her breasts romantically. She took a deep breath and exhaled. She almost kissed his hand.
“Take another deep breath and release it slowly,” Paka instructed, his hands virtually trembling near Stina’s frisky breasts. The whole examination was now focused around her breasts as if the sickness was sitting there and was refusing to leave. In fact, instead of holding the stethoscope professionally, his whole palm was virtually resting on Stina’s chest. And, in her heart, it was “Let your hand remain there.”
Doctor Paka managed to complete his diagnostic examination on Stina. Whether what Doctor Paka was hearing during the examination was Stina’s heart beat or his own heart beat may be a question that, perhaps, only Doctor Paka or a psychologist can answer.
But one thing that was certain is that they had fallen in love with each other. Many of the I-want-you-to-know-that-I-love-you questions and statements were exchanged in the process. It was impossible for each to hide the feelings in them, and each knew and understood what was in the heart for the other. She was the last patient before his launch break. Was it coincidence that made it possible, or was it fate? One didn’t have to tell the other, “I’m in love with you, or I love you.” It is said that love easily recognizes love.
Quickly, discussion about going to launch together that day was finalized, and in his car they sat. A doctor was taking his patient for additional examination which could not be done in the clinic. Professional doctors are more concerned about their patients’ well-being and, it seemed, Doctor Paka wanted to be one of such doctors for Stina. Equally so, careful patients never go far from their doctors and, it appeared, Stina wanted to be one of such patients.
In the restaurant, Stina sat first, followed by Doctor Paka, who sat directly opposite her, with the table between them serving as the boundary that was not recognized and would not be respected.
“Why is this happening like this,” asked the doctor, his eyes deemed from love.
“I don’t know,” Stina responded, ending it with a smile that was rich in romance, while directly peering at him. Women have a way of subduing men, including men considered smart or well-educated.
He extended his hands across the table to grasp those of Stina. She easily and quickly pushed her hands into those of his. He cuddled her fingers for a while, peering at her. She bat her eyes romantically and smiled.
“What are you doing?” asked Stina, pretending not to be aware of what he was doing to her hands. Women are extremely good at accepting romantic overtures rejectingly. They reason that they are smarter than men in such affairs.
“Nothing. Just holding you,” he answered.
“You haven’t said anything yet,” Stina pushed him.
“Say what?” he quipped.
“That you love me or something,” she clarified.
“Do you love me?” he asked, forcing Stina to be the one to make move first.
“My heart beats. What about you?” she cleverly avoided the question.
“I feel as if I’ve caused some trouble. That’s the feeling I have,” he said, as if the two were trying to win in a I-am-smarter-than-you competition. Their hands were still held together on the table.
Suddenly, they slowly and romantically and emotionally brought their heads together as if they wanted to talk some secret, but it turned out that they were shooting for a mouth-to-mouth togetherness. Thank God they were sitting in a corner where they could hardly be seen by others. They allowed their tongues and lips to bathe with enough spit. Like Jesus on the cross, they might have said to themselves, “It is finished.”
It was certain love, like the Holy Spirit, had descended and descended upon Paka and Stina, evaporating the doctor-patient relationship that should have been. They have been together since. Oh, Love, how great thou art!
Seriously, my people, aren’t these points to ponder?