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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “My Name Is Equality” Down in the Dirt, v198 (the 8/22 Issue) Order the paperback book:

Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology The Final Frontier the Down in the Dirt May-August 2022 issues collection book		get the 420 page May-August 2022 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# perfect-bound paperback book:

Show Don’t Tell

Uday Mukerji

    I picked up my regular double shot Americano from the counter and rushed to the exit. I had my laptop in one hand and the coffee in another. But as I pushed the door open, it accidentally hit a woman in the back while she was still waving at her friend.
    Damn! I stepped out and apologized.
    “Harvey?” gulped the lady as she turned her face toward me.
    “Jenna! Where have you been?” My coffee almost slipped through my fingers as my heart started pounding in my chest. I hadn’t seen her for years.
    “It’s a long story, but it seems you’re in a rush . . .”
    But the disappointed tone in her voice revealed more than she had said. Maybe, she wants to tell me her side of the story?
    I replied, “Not anymore . . .”
    “Then, let’s get a drink, although I have a flight to catch . . . in two hours.” Jenna grabbed my hand and dragged me inside. It’s like our college days all over again.
    “Where did you go? Where are you flying off to?”
    “Let me get a drink first. I haven’t had my morning dose yet.”
    “Of course, I’m sorry.”
    We got settled at one corner of the café. I put down my paper cup on the table and rushed to get her a latte. She was wearing blue jeans and a white shirt with a scarf wrapped around her neck. Jenna was looking as pretty as I remembered her three years before. She had wide-set blue eyes and high cheekbones. Her deep red hair was now cut in a stylish long bob. As she took the first sip of her coffee, the side bangs fell from both sides of her face, and I stole a quick glance.
    Old memories flooded my brain. But my inner voice was desperate to get some answers. I asked again, “Where did you go? And why? . . . I called you so many times.”
    “I’m so sorry about that. Since my old number was tied to my landline here, I had to take a new number in Boston.”
    “What’re you doing in Boston?”
    “My father passed away just as we graduated from college. When I went back home after the exam, I decided to stay and help my mom run my father’s business.”
    “I’m sorry, Jenna, I’d no idea.”
    “Don’t worry, now everything is back to normal, of course, as normal as it can be.”
    “When did you come back to town?”
    “Just yesterday. I had a client meeting on 46^th Avenue, so, I thought might as well stay the night and pick up some of my old stuff from Sofia.”
    “Why didn’t you call me?”
    “I wanted to . . . but then you know . . .” she paused abruptly. I thought she was trying to gather her thoughts in her head. She flipped her hair and then started folding a paper napkin over and over.
    I put down my coffee and said, “No, I don’t know, Jenna. What is it?”
    “I didn’t know whether you’d gotten married or would have a girlfriend by now. I thought you must’ve moved on.”
    “The answer to your question is, ‘None of the above.’ Jenna . . . I missed you.”
    “I missed you too.” But then, she looked at her phone screen as it flashed and went blank. “Oh, no! My battery died.”
    She looked at my laptop and said, “May I borrow yours for a minute?”
    “Of course.” I pushed the laptop toward her.
    Jenna asked, “Password? Still the same?”
    “You know I don’t like changes.”
    Jenna confirmed that her flight would be on time. “I gotta leave in fifteen minutes. Still, I’ll check one more time before leaving. Tell me what’s happening here.”
    “First off, I’m now writing a column for Business Daily.”
    “Wow! That sounds fancy. I’m so happy for you.” However, she looked distracted by an email alert on my laptop. “You got an email...from a lady named Joanne.” She moved to turn the laptop to face me.
    I stopped her. “No need. Just tell me what she says. She is my editor.”
    “It’s on your Gmail account, though.”
    “That’s because she doesn’t work in Business Daily ... she’s editing my book.
    “What now? You have a book?” Jenna almost fell from her chair.
    “Not yet but in the final stages . . . should be out next year. Anyway, tell me what does the email say?”
    “I don’t understand it . . . she highlighted a big chunk of text and wrote, ‘Show, don’t tell.’ What does that even mean?”
    “Don’t worry, I know what she means.”
    Jenna looked at me and said, “Enlighten me.”
    I knew there was no avoiding Jenna’s question. Her eyes were still fixed on me. I said, “That’s writing 101. It’s a technique where you give your readers a feel of what’s happening through sensory details rather than describing it for them. Simply put, she wants me to show the character’s reactions.”
    “But how?”
    “Well, for example, I can tell the readers my character is angry or I can display his anger by showing him banging on the table with a fist or smashing a vase.”
    “Oh, now I get it. More dramatic, huh?”
    Although I had no intention of discussing my editing issues with Jenna, time passed in a flash. She looked at her watch, keyed in her new number on my phone, and we parted again.

***

    Jenna and I had become good friends during our sophomore years at Cornell, but our friendship had led to something else for me. I had developed a huge crush on her. Although I knew she had an off-and-on boyfriend, I had secretly wished our relationship could develop into something more.
    However, I had accepted the reality and dated other girls, but sadly, they weren’t Jenna.
    All through college, Jenna had been one of my closest friends. That’s why, when she suddenly vanished from my radar, I was heartbroken. We weren’t together, but I was happy knowing she was there. Although I would have loved to know how she felt about me, I had always thought, that one day, I would gather enough courage to express my feelings for her.
    But before I knew it, our relationship had already started to change without my having said a word. One night, when I walked her back to her dorm room from the library, she kissed me in the middle of our football field. A luminous, bright full moon was shining overhead, spilling tons of silver on earth. The feeling of her lips against mine sent my blood rushing through my veins so fast that my head started spinning, my limbs became senseless, and I almost had no air left in my lung. The excitement was so high that I remember I couldn’t sleep that night.
    So, a few days later, when she had left abruptly without a word, I was devastated, especially since I’d heard she’d had a huge fight with Peter a few days before, and they had already broken their relationship off. How come she didn’t tell me that? Why didn’t she give ‘us’ a chance?

***

    The accidental meeting with Jenna that day brought back old memories like the gush of water from a firefighter’s hose. We both had grown up since then, and if I had had a few more minutes, I could’ve easily expressed my feelings for her.
    I wasn’t fearful about rejection anymore. I simply wanted her to know how I felt about her. Also, I had so many questions. Was she back with Peter? Had she moved on, like she’d thought I had? Was she married? I hadn’t seen any ring, though.

***

    After work, I went back home, slightly sad. I had waited for an opportunity like that for months and years. I poured myself a drink and went to the balcony. I wondered what Jenna was doing.
    I took out my phone from my pocket and pressed her new number without thinking. I was getting impatient to get an answer. What if our accidental meeting was more than merely a random event? It could be a sign from the universe. Otherwise, why would she give me her new number after three years?
    Her phone rang at the other end. My heart suddenly started beating faster, and my mouth was drying up. What’s happening to me? Should I hang up? But that might look odd. Very odd.
    “Harvey? What a pleasant surprise!” answered Jenna with her usual warmth.
    I didn’t want to waste any time. I blurted out, “Jenna, I love you.”
    Then, we both went silent. I could hear her breathing, though. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t expecting her to say it back, anyway. I just wanted her to know.
    After silence for a couple of seconds, Jenna replied, “You know what, show me, don’t tell.”
    “I want to ... but how?”
    “You’re a writer, figure it out. Or you could simply come to Boston this weekend.”

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