Cherry blossoms fall at my shoes as the bus drops me off at the university entrance. The brick tower of Barge Hall rises behind the trees as I look around. The paths throughout campus are covered with pink and white petals. There is a stream of water that runs beside the library. I cross a bridge to get to the other side. As I cut across the grass, branches drop petals on my hair and shoulders. A small breeze twirls them in the air as I keep walking. When the trees blossom in the spring, central Washington feels like a place from a dream.
The Sakura festival happens once a year, and people from all over Washington come to see it. Sam and I would take the bus here all the time when the weather was warm. It is a beautiful stroll along the university paths. This is the first I’m seeing them this year. I breathe in the scent, and remember the two of us walking together, Sam’s hand in mine.
Sam stops to sniff the air. “This really takes me back…”
“Is it close?” I ask.
He looks at me. “To what?”
“To the cherry blossoms in Japan.”
Sam takes a good look around. “That’s like comparing a lake to the ocean. You know what I mean? It’s not close at all.” He just returned from a trip to Kyoto to visit his grandparents and attend the Sakura festival there. He said it was a family trip …
I fold my arms. “Thanks again for the invitation.”
“I told you.” He laughs as he takes my hands. “We’ll go this summer after graduation. I promise. You’re gonna love it there. It’ll be like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
“Nothing like Ellensburg?”
“Different worlds.”
I smile and kiss his cheek. “I can’t wait.”
* * *
“So how are the blossoms this year?” Sam’s voice over the phone pulls me back.
I called as soon as the paths cleared and it’s only us out here.
“They’re beautiful,” I say. I look up at the trees that line the paths, listening to the stream of water running somewhere up ahead. “But nothing like the ocean, right?” Sam doesn’t answer, but I sense him smiling on the line. “Why did you ask me to come here again?”
“It’s our tradition,” Sam says. “To walk through here every spring, remember? I realized we never got to see them this year. And it made me a little sad. I didn’t want you to think I forgot. So I figured I’d bring you here one more time, while I still can.”
“But you’re not here,” I remind him.
“I know.” Sam sighs. “But pretend I am. Just for a second. Right there, beside you, like before…”
I close my eyes and try to imagine this. A breeze moves across my face but nothing changes. You should have let me come with you last time. This can’t make up for it. “It’s not the same, Sam. Not at all…”
“I know. But it’s the best I could do right now.”
A couple holding hands walks past me, reminding me of what’s missing. The touch of a hand. The warmth of skin. The sense of him beside me. Even though I’m connected to Sam again, he’s not really here, is he? I squeeze the phone tight and push this thought out of my mind and keep walking. I was worried about being out in the open like this and running into someone. Sam told me I shouldn’t tell anyone about our calls because he doesn’t know what might happen. I don’t want to take any risks, so I promised to keep our connection a secret for now. When the campus has cleared a little, I find an empty bench away from the path and sit down.
“So what’s it like at school?” Sam asks. “Is everything … different?”
“You mean, without you there?”
“Yeah.”
“I guess so,” I say. “I’ve only been back a few days. But I hate that you’re not there anymore. I don’t like sitting beside an empty chair, you know?”
“Are people talking about me?”
I think about this. “I don’t know. I don’t really talk to anyone.”
“Oh … Okay.”
There’s something in his voice. A note of sadness? “I’m sure people still think about you, though,” I add. “They have photos of you in the front office and in some of the hallways. I always see them when I come in. People haven’t forgotten you, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Sam says nothing. I wish I knew what he was thinking. As I sit there in silence, thinking about people from school, a question comes to me. “Are you talking to anyone else, Sam?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, on the phone. Like this.”
“No. Only you.”
“How come?”
Sam takes a moment. “You’re the only one who called me.”
I consider this. “Does that mean if someone else had called you, you would have picked up for them, too?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why is that?”
“Because our connection is different,” he says. “And maybe I was waiting for your call. In a way.”
“Could it be something else?” I ask.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” I say, suddenly thinking about it. “Maybe there’s something you’re supposed to tell me. Or maybe there’s something you need me to do…”