Шамандурата

Мъжът се изправи и погледна пред себе си. Морето се виждаше зад фигурите на малкото мъже и жени, уважили сутрешния плаж.
Целта му бе далечната шамандура, която маркираше рамките на залива, само че нямаше да му бъде лесно да каже това на жена си. Тя много се притесняваше, че нещо може да му се случи, ако отиде навътре. Моментът за плуване иначе бе повече от подходящ: нямаше много хора във водата, бе около девет сутринта, което означаваше, че водата ще е студена и ще може да плува по-бързо, и главната причина – моторницата не бе започнала да прави курсове в опасна близост до шамандурата.
- Къде отиваш – попита тя и вдигна поглед от „Сърцето е самотен ловец” на Карсън Маккалърс.
- Ще плувам малко. Може да отида малко по-навътре понеже моторницата още не е тръгнала.
- Недей – каза му тя загрижено, а лицето и се молеше.
- Не се притеснявай. Всичко е наред. Няма да ходя много далече.
- Нали няма да се бавиш – каза тя и го гледаше право в очите.
- Няма... не повече от двайсет минути.
- Моля те мисли за нас – за мен и за Мария.
Що за глупост - помисли си той, та аз винаги мисля за тях. Как не можеха хората да разберат, че малко по-навътре не значи един километър по-навътре, а само до рамките на залива.
- Не се притеснявай. Всичко ще бъде наред... след като ти казвам.
- Мисли си за нас – каза му тя и го изпрати с умолителен поглед.
Той и обърна гръб и тръгна бързо към водата. Губеше ценно време. Моторницата можеше да тръгне всеки момент с прииждането на нови хора на плажа, които искаха да се изфукат пред близките си и наистина трябваше да се побърза.
Той се затича леко и стигна до разбиващите се вълни върху мозайката от счупени мидени черупки. След това внимателно пристъпи върху тях за да не се пореже и постепенно нагази в студената вода. Водата като че бе малко по-студена, отколкото бе очаквал, но това също бе нормално след среднощната буря, разразила се над малкото курортно селище. Единственият начин да се влезе в такава вода, е да се влезе веднага с пълно потапяне на тялото. Внезапният студ се преодолява за секунди. С тези мисли предвид, той си сложи плувните очила, пое дъх и се плъзна напред. Студени вълни го обляха и кожата му за секунда настръхна, а лицето му изпита моментна болка от резкия студ. Пред очите му се разгърна зелена гора от водорасли, които се полюшваха плавно с движението на вълните над тях. Той се плъзна над тях като усещането бе все едно, е на самолет летящ с нисък бръснещ полет над зелена гора. Беше решил да плува само бруст до шамандурата. Така нямаше да се измори и щеше да може да наблюдава всичко, което се вижда под него. След като прелетя над гората си даде сметка, че не е видял обичайните обитатели на такива пояси от водорасли. Малките рибки може би бяха по-нататък. След още няколко загребвания, вече бе до първата шамандура. Там дълбочината бе около метър и петдесет и той го знаеше много добре. Без да губи време, продължи напред. Пътят до втората – далечна шамандура, не бе толкова малък, а освен това трябваше да се заслушва за постоянното леко бръмчене на моторницата. Ако тя тръгнеше, щеше да се наложи да се връща.
Той поемаше въздух и се впускаше напред, издишаше под водата и единствения шум, който чуваше бе този на мехурчетата излизащи от устата му. Моторницата явно още чакаше клиенти и това му даваше добър шанс за успех. В следващия момент, изведнъж видя малките рибки. Те ослепително блеснаха със светлината на отразеното слънце като огромно парче слюда и след това се стрелнаха като една в страни от пътя му. Той се усмихна мислено и загреба още по-мощно напред. Постепенно изчезнаха всякакви водорасли, започнаха да се виждат по-големи риби, попчета най-вероятно, доколкото той можеше да ги определи, а пясъкът под него се превърна в миниатюрни малки дюни образувани от непрекъснатото движение на вълните напред и назад. Той плуваше все напред с еднакво сравнително бързо темпо и скоро усети, че левия му крак бе като че ли леко изтръпнал. Това също бе нормално. Може би изтласкваше водата по-силно с него. За момент си помисли, че дори да се схване единия му крак, не би трябвало да има никакви проблеми да излезе на брега с плуване. С поредното изплуване над водата, погледна към целта си. Тя го зовеше, все така далечна, и той вложи всички свои усилия в движението напред. Внезапно се сети какво бе казала жена му и отново се усмихна наум. Трябваше да побърза иначе тя щеше да се притесни, а това бе последното нещо, което той искаше да и причини.
Пясъчното дъно се виждаше все така ясно, въпреки че дълбочината бе най-вероятно около три метра. Мина му през ум колко чисто бе морето толкова далече на юг. С плуването все по-навътре изведнъж усети как го прерязва като с нож по-студен слой вода. Явно бурята предишната нощ бе свършила работата си размесвайки водните пластове. Шамандурата вече не бе толкова далече. За секунда спря, обърна се и погледна към брега. Той изглеждаше дълъг, а чадърите за слънце приличаха на малки детски чадърчета нелепо забити в пясъка. Обзе го прилив на свежа енергия с приближаването на заветната цел. Скоро щеше да е при нея, да се обърне и да плува обратно, с което мисията щеше да е изпълнена. Това бе последния му шанс да стигне там, тъй като трябваше да си ходят същия ден.
Той увеличи темпото, вдишвайки и издишвайки по-бързо, дъното остана по-надолу от него, все така кристално ясно, така че виждаше и последната песъчинка на него. Оставаха не повече от десет метра до шамандурата сега, когато дъното изведнъж изчезна от погледа му. Той неволно се спря и се взря с очилата надолу. Виждаше се смътна черна тъмнина точно под него. Какво ли бе станало? Може би нов пояс от водорасли, а може би бе достигнал дълбочина от десет метра, когато дъното няма как да се види, дори и в такова чисто море като това.
Пое отново въздух и се спусна напред. Сега изведнъж искаше да стигне шамандурата, колкото се може по-бързо и да се връща веднага обратно. Не можеше да си обясни защо, факта, че не виждаше дъното вече, му се отрази по този начин. Оставаха не повече от 3-4 метра до шамандурата, когато изведнъж сърцето му заби силно и бързо. Той спря озадачен и напрегнат. Нямаше време да мисли защо това се случваше, защото сърцето му заблъска силно в гърдите и болезнено се заудря в плътните пластове море навсякъде около него. Усети лицето си да изтръпва, съпроводено от две ръце, които го хванаха за гушата и го стиснаха. Той се обърна трескаво към брега и го видя далече. Хората пъплеха, като че бяха лилипути, чадърите приличаха на топлийки. Слънцето светеше силно, а на небето нямаше никакъв облак. Той усети, че се задушава, а сърцето му биеше все по-силно и по-силно. Нямаше смисъл да маха с ръце. Докато разберат правилно сигнала му за помощ, щеше да е вече късно. Ако извикаше, нямаше да го чуят. Реши да се обърне по гръб и да си почине, но сърцето му заби още по-силно и по-бързо. Болеше го и му се стори, че всеки момент може да се пръсне. Изведнъж го прониза осъзнаването, че ще умре там, на няколко метра от така желаната шамандура в прекрасен слънчев ден и светът щеше да продължи своя ход - безразличен слънчев и щастлив без него. Щастлив, с изключение на жена му и дъщеря му.
Тази мисъл го накара да направи всичко, което може, защото нямаше никой друг, който да му помогне в този момент. Обърна се по корем и загреба към брега. Дъното бе огромна черна дупка, която като че искаше да го погълне и да заглуши завинаги биещото му сърце. Той затвори очи и се плъзна отново напред. Усети, че се придвижва напук на всичко, а така вече не виждаше черната дупка, зейнала под него. Пое дълбоко въздух и пак се спусна напред. Реши да се опита да диша много равномерно. Ако не друго, поне се придвижваше към брега, където го чакаше тя. Силата на волята му, като че започна да дава плодове. Той плуваше равномерно напред, а всяка идваща зад него вълна, му даваше нов тласък към брега. Сърцето му забави ход, но остана все така силно, биещо в гърдите му. Брегът наближаваше. Той погледна през очилата и видя отново дъното, все така чисто и сияещо със слънчеви сенки, които се преследваха една след друга. Той се усмихна и си помисли: няма да е този път, слава богу. Щеше да има още живот за него и щеше да бъде част от прекрасния слънчев ден. Щеше да излезе на брега и мисията щеше да е почти изпълнена. Скоро наближи първата шамандура и водораслите. Този път ги погледна, все едно бе част от тях, все едно се бе върнал от разходка из зелените гори под водата, където можеше да остане завинаги.
Излезе на брега, леко олюлявайки се. Бавно отиде до жена си, която бе седнала и го гледаше напрегнато.
- Май стигна доста далече? – попита тя.
- Да – каза той като се строполи върху хавлията си. Чувстваше се отпаднал, но сърцето му биеше силно и равномерно.
- Случи ли се нещо? – запита тя.
- Просто малка разходка малко по-навътре – каза той – казах сбогом на морето, засега.

StillintheNight 

A Banana Dress Colored in Tan

By Diyana Ivanova

Translated by Hristo Boev

Dresses remind me of colors, women and the movies. The banana dress, however, belongs to one dark-complexioned woman.

There she was, walking briskly materializing like a gauzy curtain into the street. She was like a child carrying the sea and the sand in her eyes in an impish and somewhat touchy way. Feminine and stunning, she made things definite with her exquisite body. Beautiful and abstracted she savored the evening breeze. Perhaps it was in the state of dizziness and finesse that someone had zipped up her dress, banana yellow in color. It was something in between orange and pink with this banana shade. She reminded one of a female daffodil but with her there, the world was more spirited reflected in her bright brown eyes. If she looked in a certain direction, she gave a special meaning to what she’d seen, shaped it and somehow turned it into ovals. Oval was her dominating form. Slender and quick-witted she struck one as a woman who understood the small and simple things in life, and was completely unaware of the ones belonging in the realm of the unearthly and celestial. Standing still by the beach, she seemed to float over the fairy tales with the known beauties and lovingly fall for monsters, which she then transformed into people. The low altitude of the place made her dizzy. The short banana dress she wore made her look unpretentious, lonely and fragrant.

Short, too short it was bordering on the indecent, but not quite. She seemed to skate along the quay as if winking at the speechless seamen there. It was impossible that you could accost this lonely ambler and offer her a cheap motel. Impossible. The shoulder-strips to the banana dress were a shade darker than the dress itself. Some bizarre short-cut seam ran across her breasts, too in a line that was three times still darker. Her stays bodily colored popped just slightly above her well-corseted bust. One could see the lace as well; if one strained the eyes, and there came it came, almost imperceptible, orgasmic. The lace strips melted into her flesh – a couple of shades whiter but creamy tanned by the sun. She walked. Few women are capable of this – wild, earthly, inspiring, loving, and somehow defying all laws of the sky and the earth. She exuded reason and passion. The impossible combination. The color she had on the dress really suited her. The peaked cap she had on her head, made her looks sporty barely concealing her short hair-style. She had beige sandals on her legs. She stopped and suddenly seemed to look at some point again. Then she made a sharp gesture fixing the position of her handbag on her and again the landscape was fascinating. No doubt it would be wild and desolate if robbed of her presence. The bums, fishermen and the seamen were used to her. I was still in the process of getting adjusted.

I came to look forward to her walks and couldn’t imagine this to be some routine. The beautiful dark-complexioned woman couldn’t be a habit or some part of it. Her walks were never enough for me although I could see her there every day at sunset, every summer in August.

Her eye seemed to lose color as she watched the sea. August was her month. It was the time when she parted from the people and the horror of the big city. She looked around. Everything she saw, she had known for years. Her radiant smile waved at the fisherman and then she smiled at someone on the quay, too. She gave a deep sigh. She loved the feeling of being along in this place. She loved the feel of the harbor and the wildness of the sea. She felt calm and somehow safe from the hubbub of the passing season here like a recluse and heretic daring to do something otherwise.

She was not looking for love at this time of the year. She knew that passion and love are elusive and come only once. The sea loved her and so did I. There was life and loneliness, tenderness and sympathy in her. As she walked, the girl, for indeed she was a girl, lifted her hands up in the air. This gesture of hers gave her away – it gave her an air not of a voluptuous flirt, but rather of a woman who knew where her strength was and who used it sparingly. She didn’t seem to be on the look-out for something particular. She was just taking a walk in her own way. I followed her and saw something curious. Banana-like and sunny she ran, dashing towards someone or something so suddenly.

The fisherman held out his hand and helped the girl in the banana dress into the boat. This somehow brought back the memory of her mother – of some years past. She wasn’t like her. There was something the summer was doing to her short brown hair. The locks of her hair appeared to take on a slightly reddish hue.

Her mother, by contrast, had a fiery red mane, not something garish, but rather subdued and billowy in waves reaching her waist.

“The little one is too smart not to see me through – I have to find a way to distract her one way or another,” thought the fisherman.

She smiled a banana smile at him and fixed him with her eyes. She had an insight; one had to grant her that. She could advance or retreat at will. There was something in her bearing resemblance to the liveliness of her mother, but she was also different in so many ways - more discreet as far as feelings go and more conquering. She was also somewhat unyielding and adamant when need be, but there was more to be discerned – there was some softness to her. He felt amused and kissed the girl on the forehead. She’d been coming here for years, first with his parents and then in big and rowdy parties. Then in several summers in a row, with different boys. For the last two years she had come here alone. There was some ritual in what she was doing. Her mother was different. She did not possess this straightforwardness her daughter had and lacked completely that playful look. The dainty girl seemed to be in fine possession of her feminine faculties – she would turn her head and look the other way when need called. Could anyone in the world ever break this girl? She knew that there were circumstances that could make her stoop for a moment but in the end she might as well prove that she’d only stooped to conquer. I watched the thoughts of the fisherman and the conduct of the girl at a distance in that peculiar play of inexplicable symbiosis that seemed to bond them. There was something that kept them together and at the same time pulled them apart. I felt I did not belong. Once again at sunset I liked this woman.

“Her smile is vaguely reminiscent of her mother’s, just ever so slightly, by the two dimples she had on the cheeks.

The red-haired one… I haven’t forgotten her yet,” the fisherman noticed as he thought back in time.

“I felt fine in the boat. I put on my cape – well padded on the inside so that it wouldn’t let in moisture. I knew I was in for a most beautiful evening far out into the sea. Then I felt there was someone else watching me. Those were a stranger’s eyes, not the eyes of my friends from the harbor or of the mariners chatting up to me. Who was looking so hard at me? I can always tell when someone’s doing just that. That look, it’s like the other moon, like the pain in the ribs, like a gesture exchanged between two people at the table, the little smile of the ones in love.

Someone had been looking at me like that for about an hour and seemed to be stalking me. I didn’t dare turn around. This is a rare thing with me, indeed for I can look wherever and whenever I like. This time around I felt absolutely helpless before the unseen power of that stare. I knew that if I’d turned around I would have seen something and then I’d need time to fall asleep. Not that I was running away from someone on the quay. There are so many boats in the area. Perhaps mine is somewhere out at sea and is not waiting for me moored to the pier. My friend, the fisherman, pushed the boat out, smoothly and neatly.”

And then the girl in the banana dress told the fisherman that some day she wanted to have a daughter.

“I watched the sea. The sun had already gone down. It was the moon that was shining now and the stars were twinkling clumsily. I blinked at the fisherman and smiled at him. I knew he liked that. One day I came from somewhere and cried before him. He treated me harshly then. Time had to pass before I knew why. If he’d shown sympathy he would have cried himself and shown weakness. I’ve been careful ever since for I intend to bring my unborn daughter here someday. Would she cry before him like I did, I wonder. Once I had the feeling that he’d be here after I’m gone. Only the fishermen are eternal. They are nameless, ageless. These boys seem to live someplace between the waves, the sun, the sky and the stars. Living on the edge, the very thought of it! Strong are his hands, but he has a steady and good heart,” thus thought the girl and breathed in deeply the vapors of the splashing waves.

They were silent and looked on the vast expanse of water. The sky was clear. There was no sign of an approaching storm. It was only proper for the girl to have the cape on her back for it was chilly in the evening.

“The sea is sometimes like a desert,” the fisherman thought. He looked ahead and swallowed his tears and then smiled at the girl in the banana dress who had huddled in the warmth of the cape, which he kept in the boat for her only.

The man was doing lengths in the swimming pool, every now and then asking her to jump in. A bunch of devils seemed to be chasing one another in her. She had never felt like that. It had to be blamed on the sea. Her life rolled like a film on a reel before her. The sea had whispered its secrets to her in August. She had learned a lot about herself, too. She’d realized certain things about herself. Others she had spoken. There were still others she was in no mood of talking about.

Her banana dress was ruined after last night’s sea trip. Nothing bad had happened during the trip but in the following hours in the café someone had spilled coffee on it and it would be no good until well washed. In the jeans she wore now she looked like a chimneysweep without a chimney. There was nothing else left for her to do but enjoy the sunrise. She remembered leaving the walnuts on the sidewalk. The hard brown shells looked like tiny scraps of life. Or could it be said that they were more like tortoise shells? Someone had broken them all.

She felt him stalking her again, the same man from the quay, the one with the eyes of a stranger. It was the man from the swimming pool. He took her by the hips and then the legs and lifted her high up. Sure she knew him then and she knew what he was after. There was no resisting him. She felt in his arms light as a feather and then he threw her into the swimming pool. As she entered the water she felt holding in her hand a tiny bit of a walnut shell or was it the shell of a tortoise. Perhaps at least some bit of it could be saved for she knew as he jumped into the water, too that the next summer she would have a new life contained in the hardness of the tortoise shell, the taste of a walnut and the eyes of the stranger from the swimming pool.

The Exam

“Copying, of course, is not permitted. The same holds true for any other markings on any of the sheets of paper handed out for the exam. The invigilators are not allowed to speak to each other, make unnecessary comments, leave the exam room or in any other manner inhibit or compromise the exam,” the principal’s voice sounded loud and clear over the deep silence reigning in the crammed teacher’s room when a small soft voice whispered from somewhere next to me, “what happens if one of the two invigilators passes out?” I turned to the left and noticed the most beautiful female teacher I’d seen in years. She had a petite delicate body, which almost dissolved into the tattered armchair she was sitting in. Her head was graced with the shortest hair-cut I’d seen in the room. Her hair was practically nonexistent whether because she’d shaven it or for any other reason, I couldn’t tell. I was so astonished to see her there that for one long moment I thought I was dreaming. I really had no explanation as to how she’d turned up there. What on earth had made them hire her? They must have really been in a bad need to resort to this. So I thought but didn’t look again for it would have been inappropriate. Then I heard myself whisper back, “in that case I guess the other teacher will have to perform artificial respiration on the unconscious teacher till she comes to.” Why did I say this? I felt as if someone was giving me lines and I was just voicing them out. I noticed then, with the corner of my eye, how she beamed at me or so it seemed to me and then she said in the same soft-spoken manner, “you must forgive me for asking this but this is the first time I’m doing it as a teacher.” As I listened to her highly melodious voice where each and every note seemed to tinkle into place, another question crept up into the back of my mind and then surfaced over – why hadn’t I noticed her before? There could be only one explanation – we are studying in two shifts. She had to be in the other shift. The only time we could have met was on an occasion like this. But again, why hadn’t I noticed her then? You mustn’t think me a womanizer for a womanizer I am not! It was just that seeing her so startlingly fresh from the teacher norm produced on me the same effect as does the first snowdrop after a long cold winter. She was momentous. That’s the way I felt about her then and that’s the way I feel about her still. She boded well for the entire profession, our school, and strangely enough, I dared think, for me.

The next thing I heard was the rustling noise made by the envelopes being handed out to the different teachers and I realized I’d missed two-thirds of the instructions but that wasn’t a big loss as I’d listened to them for years and had involuntarily memorized them as they never varied even by a single word. Then the principal announced my name and then a name I hadn’t heard before. Sure enough, I saw her rise from the chair. My heart missed a beat. Could it be that we’d spend the next three hours in the same room? Come to think of it now, it was really ridiculous that I should have been so excited. The school was going to be out for summer and when we came again for the next school year, who could guarantee she’d be hired again. I thought the principal could as well have given it a second thought. Moreover, there was a good chance she could turn out a disappointment in every aspect in the end. My judgment could have been clouded and my dreams of our becoming more intimate could be nothing but castles in the sand washed away by the very first breaking wave of a real-life situation. I waited for her outside and then we went into the exam room. As we walked I found her rather thin and her eyes seemed to gleam and twinkle with a thousand tiny flames as she laughed at my feeble attempts to tell a good joke. The thing is when I’m embarrassed I always come up with corny jokes that make girls laugh for no other reason but courtesy or because they find me silly. She seemed to find my efforts to make fun admirable and my jokes truly original, though, which left me enthralled even before we entered the room. She did most of the talking inside giving all the instructions with me chiming in here and there. Then she said she needed to sit and I gave her a chair.

The exam was half way through when, as we were talking quietly violating the invigilators’ instructions, she suddenly reeled as she was seated on the chair and leaned back to support herself but missed the back of the chair. Fast and unexpected as this was happening, I think I must have noticed that her body was very frail and her talk hectic and erratic for I jumped to my feet and caught her falling in my arms. I was stunned not knowing what to think or do. I frantically wondered if I could leave her on the floor and call for help but, quickly dismissed the idea as it seemed too brutal for me. Then I squinted at the examinees and saw that they were petrified, turned to stone as if with the stroke of a magic wand. Barely realizing what I was doing I brought her head close to me with my hands and then kissed her on the lips. They felt dead cold. I shuddered. Had I kissed a dead woman? I then remembered what I’d told her. What I’d thought back in the teachers’ room to be another silly joke of mine was to become the stark reality later on. I took a deep breath and breathed it into her wet cold little mouth. With one of my hands I was pressing her chest and giving her the breath of life at the same time. Then it occurred to me that I was supposed to do one and next the other and so I did. Whether because of my first aid intervention or because of some other reason, she coughed and opened her eyes. I looked into them and read all the sadness in the world there. She slowly sat back down on to her chair.

“I’m going to be fine now. Thanks.”

“Are you sure? Perhaps we should call the paramedics.”

“Yes, I’m sure. No need to call them. I’m gonna be OK, really. I just passed out as I told you I would. Remember?”

“Yes… I remember.”

“Don’t you worry about me then and let’s go on with the exam.”

After the three hours were over, the examinees left the room looking long at her before leaving.

“Let me take you home. Perhaps you need a rest,” I suggested.

“Yes, take me to some place,” she said panting a little, “home can wait. I’ll be there soon.”

We walked to my car. She seemed to be recovering and some warmth crept back to her face.

“Let’s go to the beach,” she said, “but some place where there are no people.”

She did sound strange. I felt it then but I was inextricably attracted to her. Perhaps it was the old attraction of the young man to the sick helpless prostitute from “Crime and Punishment” where Razkolnikov is pulled by the irresistible magnetism of Sonia, but this was different. She was no prostitute. I somehow knew this and I was no Razkolnkov, either. At least, I’d killed no one for that matter.

It was rather that I wanted to know more and get to know her and be with her. To the end. As I drove along the winding road by the sea in search of a secluded spot we chatted some more.

“I did scare you. Admit it.”

“I admit it.”

She laughed.

“You freaked out.”

“Not exactly, I tried not to lose my head.”

“Yeah, you did a good job although I would’ve come around by myself eventually.”

I played some music on the car radio and then as I saw the coveted spot I pulled over under a tree and helped her get out. We took off our sandals and walked on the sand. The sea was the way I liked it with medium waves breaking on the beach and turning into foam. I looked at her as she was smiling a sad smile and her big eyes glistened wet and teary. I looked back to the waves and then back to her and told her, “Have you ever thought that you truly look like the Little Mermaid? You know the fairy tale, Andersen?”

“I am the little mermaid,” she said, “very soon I’ll be nothing but sea foam.”

At this point I was really tired of listening to all these riddles.”

“What’s the matter with you, tell me?”

“Leukemia,” she said. “I could’ve died today. I might die tomorrow or tonight. It’ll be very soon. I know it.” This was shattering news but somehow I’d known it all along since her fainting that she was not going to be long in dying. I put my arms around her and pulled her close to me. Her body felt even more fragile as I felt hers pressed against mine.

“Is there anything I can do?” I said. “Why did you come to work?”

I was being incoherent but I couldn’t help it.

“You’ve done enough. Still, there is something you can do, but I’ll tell you about it later today. As to why I came to work. Well, you might say, I tried to get it off my head and be involved in this machinelike action to monitor an exam, or was it a last attempt at self-assertion? I really don’t know. I just felt I wanted to be among people, catch a last glimpse of this or that, be one of the many…”

“I don’t wanna lose you,” I said. “I… I want to be with you. I… I love you.”

“Really?” she didn’t laugh, she just looked incredulous and I must say I was also at a loss why I’d said this. And then I knew. I’d said it because it was true.

“Yeah, really.”

She gently pushed me off, looked at me and said, “I believe you.” And then she took off her top and before I could say a thing her bikini was lying on the sand around her feet. She stepped over it and said, “Come on now. Let’s do what lovers do.” I took off my clothes without taking my eyes off the most incredible woman I’d ever met and then we made love on the beach. Even as I was kissing her and penetrating her I felt she was on the brink of two worlds and then I forgot all about it and let myself go and it was then that she also lost her detachment and gave herself to me completely. Then we lay on our backs, my hand under her head, my fingers caressing her.

“You are not gonna die, you know,” I said catching my breath, “there’s life in you, more life than there is in people healthier than you are.

“No? If you say so.”

She smiled at me and for the first time since we met there wasn’t in her a single vestige of sadness.

We then got up, I took her hand and we ran to the waves splashing on the beach. I kept holding her hand and looked at her face, which was radiant and animated. It was just the eyes that still gleamed their dark foreboding but we were past caring now. We frolicked around in the water, kissed and hugged and swam a little. Then we stood still and I knew that we’d be together always, me, her and the sea.

Every time I go to the seaside I always take time to go to our spot. There I watch the sea foam and I know that she’s there and I see her in the water, I feel her pressed against me. She’s smiling, laughing and we are making love in the water, me, her and the sea.