The Essence of Noah (Muslim story)

Souvenir

Friday rolled by like a marble on a hill; smooth and far too quickly. After lazing about for another day Evan decided that it was time to head back to Adelaide and start sorting himself out. He stopped by my apartment with my keys and long forgotten souvenir.

"You shouldn't have."

"It was nothing."

"No, really- you shouldn't have." Evans holds back fits of laughter behind his puffed cheeks and pressed lips. I hold up the inflatable sumo costume in my hands, supressing a laugh myself.

"It's sick isn't it?" He finally lets out his laugh as he takes the costume from me and flattens it against his body.

"Sick is one way of putting it." I lean against the kitchen counter as Evan finds the blow up and hole and starts his mission for the day. "You're not seriously going to blow it up."

"Why not?" He squats on the floor and spreads the costume out in front of him. "I went out of my way to get you something and you're just an ungrateful git."

"When you said 'souvenir' I thought a Tokyo key chain or origami handbook- not a sumo suit."

"Whatever." I shake my head, as I take the glass with the sunflower and refill it with cool water.

"You know, you're the only person I know that can keep a plant alive." He takes a deep breath and blows into the plastic, making no difference to its shape what so ever.

"Thanks." I place the glass back on the counter, facing the flower to the balcony doors.

"That's sad, not a compliment." I shake my head as I lean on my forearms on the counter and watch Evan.

"What's sad is what you're trying to do right now." He ignores me and continues to blow heaps of his breath into the costume.

"Do you have an air pump?"

"Why would I have an air pump?"

"Who doesn't have an air pump?"

"I don't have an air pump."

"You're useless, Hana. Absolutely useless." I laugh as I come to join him on the floor. Evan takes in a deep breath and blows into the plastic yet again.

"I'm pretty sure that's not good for your lungs." Evan shrugs. "When's your flight?"

"I haven't booked." He speaks between blows, "I'll book one at the airport." Again he stops and holds the suit up in front of him. He turns to me and I raise my eyebrows, silently suggesting him to 'give up.' "Let's go to K-mart." He stands and straightens out his creased shorts.

"To get an air pump?"

"To get an air pump." He nods.

~*~

We got an air pump, pumped the sumo into its lifeless life and named him Gibbo- Gib for short. It's fair to say Evan was overjoyed, and planning on purchasing one for himself online as soon as he got back to Adelaide. I dropped him off at the airport late in the afternoon, feeling somewhat void at his departure. I hung about in the waiting lounge with him for a bit until his flight was called and after that he was gone. There were no hugs or tears, no promises of calls or skypes, or lies that we would visit each other soon. To us, it was our personal goodbye, but to any passers-by, it would have seemed like acquaintances seeing each other off.

Evan didn't stay in Melbourne long, but he's one of those people- the kind that leave an impression of themselves where ever they go and with whoever they meet. They make their presence known, felt and enjoyable, and so, when they leave, not only have they left, but they've managed to take part of you with them. And that's exactly what Evan did. He left, and he took a part of my emotion with him, leaving me with a motel stolen sunflower and inflated sumo as reminders of his company.