Valentine Special 2025

V for Valentines

By Jimmy Loong

 

The idea of having to sit out in the rain on a February evening was not my best of days or evenings, but the task required my attention.

“Romeo, where art thou?” I heard her calling then.

“Juliet, I am here. I have been waiting since dusk.” Romeo replied. He was seated at the pavilion at the garden, holding onto the bouget of red roses. Yup, he is the reason I am there that evening.

“I am here too, but I cannot see you.” The lady replied. “Speak to me, Romeo.”

Well, it was obvious when they are not at the same pavilion; it was separated by the stream that flowed by it. It was called a decent spot for lovers to meet discreetly, and in some manners, escorted by chaperone; that was my task.

“Hold on. I think we lost the signal there.” I stood up and pulled at the string that connects the two hearing cups for each of them, but we have five cups in the communication lines, and with that many cups and lines, things could get complicated like the rendezvous set that evening.

Five cups and lines? Yes, it was Galileo’s idea to improvise the communication device for the lovers; to be heard and yet not to too nearby. And withing safe conversation company for verification. In years to come, it will be called an ‘oversight committee’ but we will stay true to the need then.

Why the need for the ‘discreet’ overtures? Well, it was not a lover’s spat; it was obvious they are still talking but the conflict of their families had caused the rift in their relationship which will prevail between nations and clans, or in this scene, the families name. me. As it was for most of such conflicts, neutral parties are brought into negotiate the truce.

That will be myself, Jimmy aka the next best of buddies to Romeo, while Juliet has her next to bosom pals, Jean on the other end.

“Jean, I cannot hear him.” The lady was in distress.

“Hold on, Juliet. I am fixing the line.” Jean was trying to untangle the knots on the line. I was doing the same at my end.

“Jimmy, can you hear me?” Jean shouted.

“Jean, I can but you need not raise your voice. You could alert the others in the garden. We are not alone.”

“Bloody good it will do. Tell Galileo to get his act right or I will be forced to right his.” Bloody impetuous was Jean in her words.  

“Calm down, Jean. He may hear us.” I was sworn to secrecy not to disclose the whereabouts of Galileo; incidentally was nearby for he wanted to hear that his invention worked. It did when there was only one string but he added in the extra strings on the invention of his; he called it five ways communication.

“I can hear you, Jean.” That was Galileo on the line; or rather what was termed by me as crossed lines. He may have to untangle his line.

“Bloody well. It was supposed to be a personal line with Romeo and not you involved.” Jean called out. Her voice was transmitted not by the line but across the stream by her voice.

“I got it done.” I was to untangle the knots and get the lines clear. “Now, get me Juliet on the line please.”

Courtesy was my better of intentions given the lover’s connection I was to maintain.

“Hello, Juliet.” Romeo could not wait for his cue and grabbed the cup. “How art thou?”

“Hold on, lover boy. I will get her for you. She is busy now.” Jean replied. I then stood up and looked across the stream towards the ladies. I was to estimate our distance was about ten feet with the stream given its width of two feet, but no one was to get their feet wet on a February evening.

“I am here, Romeo. How art thou?” Juliet was back on the line.

“Juliet, you are getting the cup dirty with the chocolate cupcake remains.” It was Jean telling the other.

“Chocolate Cupcakes? Who was eating there?” Galileo heard that. It was to me at plain sight, that Juliet was woofing down the cupcake while we were fixing the lines.

“Shut up, Galileo. She just smudged the cup and not the string.” Jean protected her friend.

“Cupcakes? You brought me cupcakes?” It was Romeo’s outburst. “And you did not offer me any?”

For the readers, cupcakes are a baking wonder; a mixture of flour and sugar, and awfully what else, you get to bake it to become it, but to the young lovers, it was another matter.

“You were late, and I was hungry,” Juliet replied. “I ate one and kept the other for you. Why are you upset?”

“Me upset?” For once the communication line was perfect.  “I am not.”

“I can see that. The rose petals are in the stream.” Juliet snarled back. “You always tear away at gifts when upset.”

I must admit that Romeo was upset; for one, he was hungry, and two; despite the advocate for flowery meals, the roses do not rank as eatable, and the other obvious path was to discard it in the stream.

“Jean, I think we need to meet,” I called out to the other. It was our task to call for the armistice when the war started. I stepped out of the pavilion to meet Jean at the bridge nearby. We stood there and watched the young lovers at it over the line that was provided by Galileo.

“You are upset, Juliet. I could tell.” That was Romeo with the first of many more barrages.

“No, I am not.” Juliet denies it. “I was hungry, and you are late.”

“No, I was not. I have been here waiting since tea time. I had brought the roses then, but the hot sun had withered the petals. I watered them and dropped some into the stream.”

“Lies, Romeo. I know when you are telling me lies.” Juliet snapped back.

It was obvious that lovers were meant to bicker over anything, anytime, and every other thing most time. As nations do, as families do, but lovers do it more often.

Even on Valentines.

“I do not think they need the cups anymore.” Jean was sighing when she observed from the bridge. “I can hear her well from here.”

“Me too.”  I sighed. I saw then Galileo approaching us at the bridge. He was holding the communication set in his hands. “Bloody good they had done to my invention. It was to hold decent communication.”

“It did, Galileo. They are ……. Communicating now.” I had to assure Galileo of his task.

“Here, Galileo. Have a cupcake.” Jean offered the cupcake she recovered from Juliet. It was a unique design, in the shape of V. It was Valentine's evening that day.

“No more smudges on my cups. I am going to get it washed at the tavern.” Galileo declined it.

Galileo left me standing there with Jean watching one other couple spatting at each other.

“Jean, can I have some cupcakes? I am hungry.” I asked the lady. She offered the cake and I looked at it. I was unsure of which end to bite from; was it the end of two V, or the joined V at the other middle? It called for delicate care.

“Do you want it? Or not?” Jean asked me. I hesitated and then took the right end of the V shape.

“Why did you break it there? You should have taken half at the joined end.” Jean looked at me. “Now it looked like a disjointed hook.”

“No, it looked like a J to me, as in your name, Jean.” I thought fast to correct her.

“Now, you are telling me I am a hook.” Jean glared at me. She did have a hooked nose; when younger, we called her the hook. I held a rounded nose, so I was named the clown.

“No, you looked …... lovely.” I had to appease her before she got all upset. It was then I noticed the spot of chocolate on her lips.

“You have chocolate on your lips.” I sort of whispered to her. “Did you eat some earlier?”

“Clown! I had to. It was my baking session.” Jean was upset. I offered her a handkerchief to wipe it. (Men do carry on then.) I offered to wipe her with it, but she held back my hand.

“I will do it myself.” Jean held my hand holding the handkerchief. Was it the February evening or I felt the warmth that coursed through my hand then? For some unknown reason, I raised the handkerchief with her hand holding mine towards her lips. I wiped the chocolate off there.

“Thank you.’ Jean smiled. We lowered our hands but held onto the handkerchief with it.

“What is the ‘J’ for on the handkerchief?” Jean saw the character sewn on the handkerchief. It was my sewing not to mix up the washings. And yes, I sew and mend my clothing.

“That is my …….” The flash of sunshine came to my senses then. “It was my gift for you. J stands for Jean.”

“Oh, how thoughtful. I was not expecting anything.” Jean blushed. “Not today.”

“Unfortunately, it is not clean anymore.” I sighed. “It held chocolate remains.”

“I have a gift for you.” Jean smiled looking at me. She leaned over to kiss me then on the lips. I was not alarmed but taken aback by the kiss. She pulled back and smiled.

“Do you like the present?” Jean asked of me. “It’s my Valentine’s gift for you.”

“Oh ……” I pulled her closer to me and kissed her full on the lips. “This is mine.”

Our noses met while our lips were within breathing space, and she looked at me with a smile.

“It is Valentine. Will you be my lover tonight?” Jean held the most adoring set of eyes.

“I will but I am a Virgin. I would not know much.” Honestly, books and pictures do not match actual works.

“So am I. I guess we can join our V’s tonight and be a WE by then.” Jean smiled.

Twenty-five years later, I am still married to that lady. V are still the WE.