The Smilodon

PROLOGUE “Simplicity is the ultimate form of sophistication” – was the quote that immediately came to mind as Jonathan’s eyes darted around the interior of what was now his favourite coffee shop, The Shop, as he stepped inside on this particularly humid Saturday morning in Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania’s bustling commercial capital. I’m pretty sure that Leonardo Da Vinci would have been O.K. with a little less simplicity with the name choice, Jonathan thought. The Shop was a small establishment with a four by ten meters of interior space and was situated on the ground floor of Diamond Plaza, an office block that was right in the middle of the city’s central business district. Because of its deliberate and overly obvious attempt to achieve an East African feel, The Shop’s décor screamed, “My proprietor is a Caucasian foreigner!” All the wooden chairs had seat cushions covered with Khanga - a vibrantly coloured East African cloth created in Zanzibar in the 1880s that had a unique mix of colours, designs, and messages. Khangas were if anything, the unofficial official cloth of the East African woman although also sparingly used by men for shirts. One wall was covered by an assortment of Tingatinga paintings; a tourist-oriented caricature art developed in Tanzania in the 2nd half of the 20th century. Another wall had shed-like rows of unpolished timber acting as wallpaper with two locally handwoven straw mats (Mkekas) neatly nailed on it like oversized paintings. The floor was concrete painted red, giving the place a very retro feel. It was as beautiful as it was simple. Jonathan walked over to his favourite spot, right at the rear end of the coffee shop facing the entrance. He had a good view of everybody from there. He could also see a bit of the kitchen whenever someone opened the door to come out, as it was behind the counter on his right. The kitchen seemed small but it produced heavenly delights that truly gave life meaning. He ordered orange juice. He was ten minutes early so he grabbed a newspaper and started to read while waiting for his juice and his girlfriend Emilie who was almost always on time. They had met face to face for the first time at this very establishment six months prior and then chose to make it their regular spot. The staff had now become accustomed to seeing both of them come in together, often asking about her whenever he came in alone. “Here is your juice sir,” said the waitress displaying a friendly smile. “Thank you,” said Jonathan while politely returning the smile. “All alone today?” “No, just a bit early.” Seemingly satisfied with the response, the waitress dutifully disappeared into the heavenly delight factory that they called the kitchen. Jonathan sipped on his juice while flipping through a newspaper slowly, not really focusing on anything in particular. His phone buzzed. It was an SMS from Emilie “On my way,” it read. He sighed as an image of Emilie appeared in his mind. She was breathtakingly beautiful, witty, and intelligent. He was truly in love with her, never having felt this way about any girl in his thirty years on planet earth. There was something deep and authentic connecting them. This had to be what they called love. He felt that she was completely herself with him, often unwittingly displaying her vulnerability to him which meant that she trusted him completely. He could see in her eyes her total devotion to him. When they were together, other things seemed…well…unimportant. Her presence simply put things into perspective. She is too good for me, he thought, but I would walk to the ends of the earth for her. “Hey,” whispered Emilie, interrupting Jonathan from his mental pilgrimage. Jonathan looked up. He hadn't seen her come in. She was dressed in casual khaki shorts and a slim fit, short-sleeved white shirt. Her dark brown belt matched the colour of her leather loafers and handbag. She looked fabulous but also a little despondent. “Oh hi babe,” said Jonathan. “Didn’t see you come in. How was your day?” “It was good,” she said, rather unconvincingly. “Found out that petroleum case is going to be dropped so it’s good day.” Emilie was a Senior Associate at one of the top law firms in the city. She came from a family of lawyers with both father and younger brother being lawyers. Her father runs a successful law firm and had employed her brother in the hope that he would one day take over the reins after he was gone. He had held similar aspirations for Emilie but she deliberately chose to work elsewhere, away from her father's shadow in an effort to gain some independence. That independence had its drawbacks as in this case the plaintiff was a friend of her father that she had known since childhood who owned several filling stations in the city. “Hey congrats and thank goodness!” said Jonathan. He admired her focus and determination. He knew she would make partner soon enough or even start her own law firm at some point. She just had it in her. He ordered juice for her too and they chatted away for a few minutes. The Shop only had two other customers inside as it was a Saturday. Jonathan had asked to meet her here on this day purposely, knowing it would be pretty empty. “Why don’t we just meet at my place?” she had asked. “It’s Saturday.” "I need to go to the city centre to pick up something and I know you will pass your office so I guess it just makes sense," he had responded. She looked up at him from her drink and back down at the table when eye contact was made. “Ok, what’s up Jonathan,” she said, “You felt bit…off, on the phone. Is something wrong? ” She paused to let Jonathan digest her words, and then she reached out instinctively with both hands to hold his. Then, just as quickly, she let go of his hands and withdrew back into her chair. “Talk to me,” she said. Jonathan glanced at her and took a deep breath. “Baby, you know that I love you right?” “Of course!” said Emilie with a sudden look of concern on her face, “what’s going on Jonathan?” “Emilie, I don’t think this will work out,” Jonathan said, his eyes now focused on her hands avoiding eye contact. He knew this would be hard but he had still underestimated how much. “Wh…what?” asked Emilie. “What do you mean? What is ‘this’?” “I mean us,” said Jonathan swinging his forefinger back and forth, like a pendulum on its sides. “Please don’t get me wrong. You know I would never intentionally hurt you. I…I just don’t think I’m the man for you. This is really, really hard for me. I just feel that I must do this. I’m really doing this for you, to allow you to continue with your life. I really do love y—“ “Stop saying you love me!” Emilie hissed through her teeth. “Are you serious? You are doing this for me?” She paused and looked at him, as if waiting for something, a smile perhaps, that would make all of this a joke or something. A sick joke but a joke nonetheless. No smile appeared, just an agonized look on Jonathan’s face. What’s going on Jonathan? Did I do something? Have you met someone else?” “No Emilie, there is no one else.” “So there is no reason? What…you just woke up and decided it’s time for this to be over?” He knew that he needed to try and explain things further. This would not make sense to anyone. They had a beautiful relationship. They loved each other. They were best friends. “Baby liste -- “ “No stop,” Emilie said in a steady tone. “So Beatrice was right about you all along. This was just a fun ride for you. This was never meant to go anywhere, was it?” Without waiting for an answer, she quickly, picked up her cell phone and handbag from the table and stood up. "No, no, no! Don't leave Emilie; wait…" pleaded a Jonathan in anguish as the reality of what was happening started to sink in. She snatched her hand away as he tried to hold on to it. Clearly, she was not going to beg and plead. She didn't need an explanation. Her pride would not let her sit there for one more second. Ignoring his pleas, she turned and walked out of the coffee shop and out of Jonathan's life.