Benjamin

I remember the night he sang "My Foolish Heart".

I was in the hallway, outside my classroom, looking down at my friend Mila as she spoke to her boyfriend. My seven o'clock class got cancelled and I was waiting for my eight o'clock Sociology. There was no one else in the hallway. Only one class was being conducted and it was in the farthest room down the hall. I was looking at the full moon when suddenly he appeared beside me. We exchanged the usual pleasantries. I noticed he wore a dark teal poloshirt, the fabric hugging his lithe body, and a pair of white pants that flared at the bottom, the back almost touching the ground but not quite, and only the tips of his white boots were showing. He smelled of musk, very faint, but distinctive.

His eyes sparkled in the moonlight. Or maybe it was that the moon sparkled in his eyes. We were making small talk and sometimes his elbow would brush into mine. Some of the girls looked up at us, and I could see in their faces the envy. For Ben was one of the good-looking men in our small community college. It felt good to be seen side by side with a well-dressed, good looking man.

Suddenly, in the brief pause between our small talks, he blurted out: "The night is like a lovely tune, beware my foolish heart; How white the ever constant moon, take care my foolish heart..."

I turned to look at him. I was flabbergasted because he had such beautiful voice. He was leaning on the ledge, facing me, with that sparkle in his eyes and a naughty smile.

"My goodness," I said, obviously pleasantly surprised, "you have a beautiful voice. You should be a balladeer!"

Ben, of course, worked at the department store at the public market, in the fabric section. This was why he could afford those nice clothes because he got them at employee-discounted prices.

He stopped briefly, "I sing in the church choir."

"Well," I said, "this choir of yours must be very good! Too bad I don't go to church."

He smiled, leaned his chest on the ledge, looked at the moon, then at me, then at the moon again.

"This time it isn't fascination..."

I raved some more about his beautiful voice and beautiful singing. Somehow I felt special because it felt like he was singing TO ME. But at the time I thought he was just passing time by chatting me up. I didn't have any inkling that he was starting to court me by that singing.

"It's love, this time it's love, my foolish heart."