Improbable Paradise

Dawn lay on her back beneath the midday sun. Although her eyes were closed and dark sunglasses adorned her face, the sun’s glow seemed to penetrate her skin. Her eyelids were no match against its’ dark spectre, circumscribed by a subtle dancing bloom that haunted her like a ghost.

She was sweating now. But it was a good sweat. Sweat borne from the most natural of breathing, the kind that good vacations allow people to release into. The sun was hard. Dawn’s breath needed to be soft. Yet somehow it all felt purifying to her. The ocean waves slapped softly against the beach sand, almost as if the shoreline was breathing along with her. Everything seemed to be in some kind of strange syncopation.

Bill flicked his cigarette lighter as he sat cross-legged on the beach towel next to Dawn. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. He cupped the lighter with his hands to protect it from the sea breeze. Five. Six. Seven attempts. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. His lucky number it seemed. He dragged on his now semi lit cigarette, turning it gently with the use of his fingers as he tried to spread the burn. Finally it’s tip burned bright like a little sun of its’ own.

“Wow.”, he said. Then adding, “I can’t believe we’re the only ones here.”, before taking another drag.

“We’re not.”, Dawn replied, moving only her mouth to speak. “The sea is full of life.”

Bill always felt like he understood her too well. “Frankly, I’m disappointed that you decided to single out the sea.”, he mourned before moving sharply to add, “I mean, isn’t life everywhere?”

Dawn had been having a lot conversations with Bill over the past few months. About life and death. About sickness and meaning. If she knew anything about this man whom she loved deeply, she understood this: this was as spiritual as he was going to get. Dawn half-knew that it will almost certainly be received as sass from her, but the better half of her wanted to encourage him and so she said, “I’m glad you caught that.”

“Don’t sass me Dawn.”, Bill wasn’t having it.

“Excuse me?”, she said pointedly as she sat up and took her glasses off to look at him in the eye. “I’m sorry Bill, but I’m being sincere.”

“If you’re being sincere then there’s no need to apologize.”, he spat with weak conviction.

“Oh but there is. I’m sorry that it’s impossible for you to appreciate any of it. Not even in paradise!”, she fired back before falling forward onto her hands, suddenly overcome with a strange exhaustion.

“Appreciate what? You think that I don’t pay you enough attention but I do. I’m a good listener.”, he said effusively.

“You listen well enough but you have very selective hearing. You see only the worst.”, Dawn proclaimed with a sense of finality that shocked even her.

Bill smoked. In that moment he felt that Dawn was right, but he also felt like a badly designed windmill that had broken down and somehow obstructed its’ own entrance. If Dawn was going to have access to his heart, it was going to be improbable. But then he was suddenly stricken with a horrible feeling, and he knew now that it was impossible. As he stared over at Dawn through his sunglasses, she appeared to be crying, sobbing as she struggled to hold herself up on all fours. In that moment Bill understood. It was over. This woman had had enough.

Bill threw his cigarette away and stood up, rushing over to Dawn in an effort to soften the blow. He held her gently, his face almost a picture of embarrassment but really inside he was just heartbroken.

“I love you.”, he said coldly.

In the eleven years that she had known him, he had never, ever said this to her. “I know stupid.”, she said like stupid was his name. “I have to go get something from the car. Wait here.”

Dawn rushed off across the sand before disappearing up the sand laden galley leading back up to the parking lot. Bill made sure to remove his sunglasses as he quietly watched her leave. Tossing his sunglasses onto his beach towel, Bill then turned to face the ocean horizon. The beach he himself stood on stretched on in either direction for miles. No one around. Not a soul.

Bill stripped himself of his clothes. First a Hawaiian shirt that he always loved. Then his swim shorts, tossing both onto the towel behind him. Naked now, he smiled the first smile that actually made him feel good in a long time. There was a genuine pleasure in it that delighted him as he stood there staring blissfully at the veritable painting before him. Finally he perhaps understood something about both art and love.

Bill walked toward the water, passing across the divide that separates the hot dry sand and its’ wet, foamy mirror. His feet now wet, and moments later his ankles submersed. The water was much more inviting than he had anticipated. It was cold but gentle. The waves began to lap up against his thighs and soon after his hips disappeared below the water line.

Bill stopped. Dawn entered his mind, but he didn’t feel the need to look back at the beach behind him. All he knew in that moment was that he really did love her. Bill started up again, continuing to move outward to the horizon.

Inside the car, Dawn sat in the driving seat. The keys in the ignition. She turned the key and started the engine. It roared into life and she quickly turned on the radio to drown it out. Staring through the front windscreen at the ocean and sky, she wept quietly. Bill was practically unrecognisable to her now. The man she fell in love with had become a shadow. She held the steering wheel firmly as though she was about to do a driving test for the first time. The midday sun continued to beat down upon her. The front cabin was no escape. Releasing the steering wheel she slumped back in the front seat and turned off the engine, killing the music as tears rolled down both her cheeks.

The glove compartment found her. It stared at her and she found herself staring back. Dawn reached over and opened it. Inside a small, rectangular wooden case that she didn’t recognise. Too long for sunglasses it seemed. Perhaps it could hold some other kind of jewellery? A watch or necklace perhaps?

Dawn opened the box. Inside was indeed a watch. A vintage analogue wristwatch that looked like it was made a hundred years ago. It was Bill’s watch. She had always loved it on him. He had worn it on their first date. It was worn but still beautiful. Dawn examined the strange box that it had been placed in. It was an impeccably crafted example of woodwork. A simple but elegant design. She turned it over and on the underside an engraving read: “Remember, you are a goddess.”

Dawn held the box for a moment. She stared out through the windscreen at the view in front of her. Then she carefully placed the box back into the glove compartment and closed it shut.

Bill’s shirt and swim shorts had been blown away off the towel and onto an area of sand nearby. Dawn had finished walking back down the galley way when she spotted Bill’s partially sand covered clothes. She picked up the shirt first, looked around for Bill but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Bill?”, she called out. “Bill!” There was no response. No figure in the water she could find. She picked up the swim shorts and dropped both the shirt and shorts back on top of his towel. She was nervous now. The box. The engraving. Her mind spiralled into a dark place.

Dawn ran into the water. “Bill!”, she shouted. “Bill!” No response. The wind had picked up and the waves were crashing more violently now. Dawn dove underneath in an attempt to find him. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. “Bill!”, she cried. “Bill!”

He had vanished.

Dawn floated limply in the water. He was gone. She looked at the sun in the sky for a moment and then began to swim back to shore. Emerging from the water, she walked back to her towel and sat. The sun hard, high above her. She needed to soften. She let go and found her breath.