Greensleeves

"Jack!"

"Please, Jack, don't forget me!"

For as long as he could remember, Andrew Browne had started his days at the Old Street Cafe. This day was no different, and he entered the building, taking refuge from the blistering bright sun that had become more common as the earth drew into summer. The cafe, always crowded on Mondays, had filled every table within half an hour of opening. Andrew found the only available seat in the small cafe, which was sitting exactly opposite a woman.

 Andrew strolled over to her. “I’m sorry, is this seat taken?” he asked. The woman looked up at him and did a double take before shaking her head.

 “No,” she said. “It–It’s fine.” She avoided looking at him directly, instead opting to stare at the table.

 Andrew felt out of place with the woman, which was strange, as in most situations she would be the one who didn’t belong. Still, the moment she’d first seen him the very air around him had seemed to halt, as is waiting for a crucial decision.

 His curiosity, as it often did, drove him to questions. “You seem a bit agitated,” he said. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

 She looked at him, shocked. “Oh,” she said. “Oh, no, it’s not you. Just…Been a hard week.”

 Andrew nodded. “Seems that way for everyone,” he said. “I mean, normally I’m away from politics, but even I can’t help but feel uneasy.”

 That explained her. The near assassination of Dr. Cain had been jarring for everyone, no matter their feelings on the woman.

 “Well, I suppose I should stop worrying about it,” the woman said. She gave him a half-hearted smile. “It’s not like it affects me, personally.”

 Andrew smiled back. “Everyone feels anxious about it, trust me,” he said. “You’re perfectly normal.”

 The woman chuckled. “You know, sometimes I feel like I’m the most normal person there is. Boring, don’t you think?”

 Andrew shook his head. “You don’t seem boring to me. And I don’t think there’s anyone who can be called normal, really, if you look deep enough.”

 The woman smiled, but it vanished in seconds. A cloud spread across her face.

 “How are you, these days?” she asked, expressionless. “Doing well, I hope?”

 Andrew nodded. “As well as always, I guess. You?”

 “Perfectly fine,” she answered. She turned away, clearly done with small talk. Andrew drank his coffee in silence, trying to ignore the sensation in the back of his mind. Something felt odd, and he couldn’t place it, no matter how hard he tried.

 There was a pause. Then, the woman started humming.

 The sound was familiar. After a few seconds, Andrew could even place the lyrics of the melody.

 “Alas, my love, you do me wrong, to cast me off discourteously,” he sang. The woman jerked her head over to him and stopped humming.

 Then, she sang, gingerly, “For I have loved you, oh, so long…”

 “Delighting in your company,” Andrew finished, beaming. For the first time since he’d met her the woman smiled and the joy in it reached her eyes.

 They sand the next lines together, her smile growing wider every moment.

 “Greensleeves was all my joy, greensleeves was my delight, greensleeves was my heart of gold…”

In the woman’s voice, soft and yearning, came the ending. “And who but my lady greensleeves?”

 For a breath, they were both silent. The woman was beaming now, tears in the corners of her eyes. She stared up at Andrew with admiration and a quiet kind of longing.

 “You knew the song,” she said, almost a whisper. “You remembered the song.”

Andrew shrugged.

 “You sing beautifully,” he said. The woman paused for a moment at that, then began to laugh. She wiped tears from her eyes, pure joy bursting into her smile, giggling like a young girl on her birthday.

 “Do you know where that song came from?” she asked, anticipating the answer with more excitement than Andrew could remember seeing in years.

 He thought for a moment. He smiled.

 “I don’t think it really matters, does it?”

 The woman’s smile faltered.

 “Are you sure?” she asked, words slow and deliberate.

 Andrew didn’t understand how he had upset her, but he elected to tell the truth anyway.

 “Of course,” he said, still smiling wide. “It’s a lovely song; I don’t see what the past has to do with it.”

 The words sunk like an anchor into the sea. They hit the seafloor with a small thud, at the exact moment the woman’s smile broke.

 “I see,” she said. Her voice was far away, her eyes not present. She nodded, repeating the action as she stood. Slow, painful movements, forcing her body through the water without the energy to swim.

 She reached into her coat. Her hand emerged with white knuckles wrapped around a pistol.

 “You have a gun?” Andrew asked. No wonder the woman had been so worked up over Dr. Cain being attacked; she must have been part of her personal guard. That was the only explanation for the weapon that he could think of.

 The question never made it to the woman. She didn’t react to Andrew’s voice, nor the slight movement he took toward her.

 Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, locked onto something he couldn’t see. She was calm. A still pond. Not a ripple in sight.

 She took a breath. Closed her eyes.

 Hummed the melody.

Alas, my love…

Pulled the trigger.