This wasn’t going the way Mike had planned.  When he went over it in his head, he expected her to be won over by his words, to be convinced that it was all just a confusing mess, and that they could become friends again, and laugh and talk like the past few months had been nothing.  But clearly that wasn’t the case.

Mike tried to keep his composure.  “Look,” he said, “I’m just… sorry with how awkward things became between us…”

“Mike,” Caitlyn said, turning her gaze to the wooden table, her smile now gone, “it’s fine; really.  You don’t have to say anything anymore.”  Her voice carried a sense of finality, as if to tell him that their conversation was done.

Before Mike could say anything, Ricky came back.

“Hey, Mike, I didn’t know you were here!” he said, giving a smile that Mike couldn’t bring himself to loathe.  It wasn’t fair.  Why couldn’t he hate this guy?

“Hey, Ricky,” Mike said, trying to sound happier than he really was.  “I work here.  You guys on a date?

“Yeah,” Ricky said, smiling.  “So how are you?”

“Pretty good,” Mike said, managing a half-smile.  He then looked at his watch.  “Well, I think I should get back to work; see you around, I guess?”

“Sure,” Ricky said, “see you around.”  He waved at Mike.

Mike took one last look at Caitlyn.  “Bye, Caitlyn.”

Caitlyn waved at him, her face blank, and he walked away, feeling like he just fell from the Golden Gate Bridge.  He got the old man’s order and brought it to him; the old man was patiently waiting.

“You seem preoccupied with something,” he said, picking up some white rice with his chopsticks.

Mike glanced again at Caitlyn and Ricky.  They seemed to have forgotten all about him; they were talking and laughing again.

“You’ve been focusing on that girl for a while,” the old man said, “Are you sure nothing’s bothering you?”

Mike turned his attention back to the old man.  How long had this guy been alive?  Mike figured he’d be about eighty, or a hundred, or… no, anything else would be impossible.  But he sure seemed like he could have been around for a long time.  And talk?  Aside from his closest friends, Mike didn’t want to tell anyone about this.  He felt like what had happened was something he could never speak of, a pain he would have for a long time.  But looking at the old man’s weathered face, something compelled him to speak.

“She’s just this girl,” he said, “that I liked for a while.”

“’Liked?’” the man asked.  “Sounds like you still do.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to anymore,” Mike said, clenching his fist.  He then loosened it, feeling like that gesture came off more hostile than he wanted.  “Not after what happened.”

“What did happen?” the old man asked.

Mike sat across the table, and began to talk, making sure his voice wasn’t too loud.  He started from the beginning, when he met Caitlyn, up to when she turned down his offer to go on a date.  Mike was surprised at how he seemed to remember every detail, every conversation he had with her.  He wondered, how much longer would these memories be fresh in his mind?  All the while he talked, the old man silently ate his meal.

“So,” the old man finally said, “You thought she was the right girl for you… simply because she was nice to you?”

“Well… yeah,” Mike said, looking down at the black apron around him.  “I mean, we seemed to be getting along well; we talked and everything, so I just thought…”

He glanced over at Caitlyn and Ricky, then back at the old man.

“I don’t know,” he said, “I guess… I just assumed that because we were friendly towards each other, she wouldn’t be against going out with me.”  He slumped into his wooden chair, the rough cushion not making him feel any better.  “I guess I was wrong about that.”

The old man listened on, fiddling with a piece of red string in his free hand.

“Well, go on,” he said, “I’m listening.  Don’t mind the red string, it’s nothing too important.”

Then why do you have so much? Mike thought.  He shook his head, and continued.

“And… I guess she was the first girl who actually turned me down.”  He stared at a wooden carving of a dragon, placed near the ceiling.  “I never really pursued other girls before… and her rejection made me want to pursue her more.”  He paused, letting the words sink in.

“Anything else?” the old man asked.

“I… I guess I just felt that if I apologized for what I did wrong, she’d stop avoiding me.”

“Well,” the old man said, “you know what they say: ‘If one does not plow, there will be no harvest.’”

“What?”

“Sorry, I think a better one would be ‘You reap what you sow?’”

Mike looked at the old man’s plate, which still had some rice and chicken on it.

“So you wanted to apologize to her, because you misread her feelings for you, and wouldn’t leave her alone?”

“Yeah,” Mike said, absent-mindedly.

“And then what?”

“Excuse me?”  Mike looked up at the old man.

“And then what?  Did you expect her to start talking to you again?  To finally become your girlfriend?”

Though he didn’t want to admit it, Mike replied, “Yes; I did.”

The old man shook his head.  He put his red string back into the bag he had, and looked at Mike.  Mike felt uneasy: The way the old man said it, it felt like he had stripped down all the ideals Mike had thought about, revealing the bare truth:

“I wouldn’t have been okay with just accepting her decision and being friends; I really did still want her to be my girlfriend, even though she rejected me.”

“Good,” the old man said, “I think you’re making some progress.”

“But,” Mike quickly added, “I really do want her to talk to me again; I understand that she didn’t return my feelings, but can’t we…”

“Still be friends?” the old man said.  “I sympathize, really; I’ve seen many broken hearts throughout my time on this world.  But I think you should move on.  Maybe, maybe she’ll talk to you again; or maybe not.  It doesn’t matter.  Perhaps when you meet again, you’ll both be with someone you love, who knows?  But from what you’ve told me, I’m afraid this girl isn’t the right one.”

He said nothing for a few seconds, and then added, “Sometimes, you just don’t get a second chance.”

“But then when will I find the right girl?” Mike asked.  “I’ve seen all my friends find girlfriends and boyfriends, and even get married.  How much longer do I have to wait?”

The old man stood.  “It’ll be a while, as I have read in my book.  But, I feel that you and I met for a reason.  Not just anyone runs into me; I remember this one time, when another man ran into me… But never mind that, I want to show you something.”

He paid his bill and, gathering his bag and book, motioned for Mike to follow him outside.

They walked on the sidewalk through Chinatown, eventually stopping at a corner.  The lights of various shops lit the street, and it was a calm evening in San Francisco; a full moon was out, and Mike could have sworn that its light was falling directly on the old man.  His face glowed, as if it were carved from a moonbeam. 

“I want to show you something,” the old man said, “something that no one has seen for some time.  It’ll only be for a brief moment, but pay attention.”

He placed a withered hand on Mike’s shoulder.  The hand was almost transparent, veins running everywhere.  For a brief moment, Mike didn’t see anything.  But then, suddenly, it looked like someone had taken a red crayon and scribbled on everything in front of him.

Everywhere Mike looked, he saw red string, crisscrossing.  It was like a red spider’s web.  Some strings were attached to men’s fingers, others to women’s.  When he saw a happy couple together, there was a string between them, shorter than the others.  Across the street, he saw a man and a woman.  There was a string between them, and, as he looked on, the woman slowly approached the man, the string appearing to shorten its length.  She tapped him on the shoulder, and they started to talk.

“What is all this?” Mike asked, turning his head, his mouth open in awe.

“Whenever someone is born,” the man explained, “I tie a red string between them and the person they will marry.  No matter where they go, the string never breaks or tears and it will shorten when they are finally meant to meet.”

     He looked at Mike, and his face seemed to glow a little brighter.  “Look,” he said, “I know you’re feeling bad right now.  But don’t worry; someday, you’ll find the right girl for you.  There’s someone for everyone, as you can see.  But don’t be in a hurry; meet new people, and someday, you’ll find her.  You’ve already been marked, you see?”

Mike looked down at his own right hand.  Sure enough, there was a red string tied to it.  The silk was light as a feather, and he could barely feel it.  He looked up and saw Caitlyn and Ricky holding hands and staring in awe at the moon light. 

“Look at how bright it is!” Caitlyn said, resting her head on Ricky’s shoulder.

Mike tried to see if they were connected, but then he quickly turned away.  It didn’t feel right, for some reason.

Then the red strings were gone. 

Mike turned to the old man.

“Where did they go?” he asked.  Their disappearance made the night seem even darker.

“Nowhere,” the old man said.  The way he smiled made Mike think of a crescent moon.  “They’re just not visible all the time.”  He began to walk away.

“Wait!” Mike called. 

The old man stopped.

“Thank you,” Mike said, “but who are you?”

The old man winked at him.  “Just an old man with some red string.”

With that, the old man walked away, slowly fading into the crowd of people.  Mike turned to his right.  Before his red string disappeared, he saw it going in that direction.  He began to walk toward it, but stopped after a few steps.

“No,” he said.  “Not tonight.  I think I’ll wait a while before I start looking again.”

With that, he went back into the restaurant.