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© Gleb Karpinsky, 2025
ISBN 978-5-0067-9864-9
Created with Ridero smart publishing system
Quiet beach
It was her first trip to the Canary Islands, even though she had long dreamed of doing so, and after stopping at Las Americas on the recommendation of an old friend, she quickly explored all the hot spots of this «dog» island up and down with her usual energy. Everything was cool and wonderful. Lots of impressions, lots of photos. Selfies were uploaded to the Internet with enviable regularity, but then she got bored, and so strongly and sharply that after lying in a hotel for almost the entire week, as if in a lazy fever, she left subscribers in complete ignorance of her plans. At one point, she even seriously thought about her mental health and leaned on the favorite drink of the conquistadors – rum. It wasn’t until four days before departure, and circumstances forced her to plunge into her work on the continent with a clear head, that she seemed to feel a new strength in herself. But these forces no longer pushed her to noisy entertainment, but suggested that she concentrate on herself and spend the rest of her vacation in complete solitude, enjoying harmony with nature. So she put on a pair of sunglasses, so as not to be recognized by new acquaintances, whom she always acquired withamazing ease, and beganto go out in the evenings to walk around the neighborhood incognito. For the convenience of walking on stones, she even bought light sneakers, a T-shirt and shorts, although she always considered herself an extreme conservative and before that adhered to the strict rule that a real French woman should not go out without a dress and heels under any circumstances.
She especiallyliked the beautiful evening beaches of Adehi, not far from some fishing village whose name she could not remember, the elegant embankment itself, connecting all these beaches into one, and insanely beautiful sunsets. There, under the rustle of palm leaves and the sound of the waves, she would spend long hours looking out at the ocean, at the sun drowning in the mighty waves, and counting the little boats that were swaying on these waves like white gulls. But the idyll of the last days of rest was crossed out by a gathering of surfers. A major annual event was planned for the island in January, and all the exits to the beaches were soon packed with buses from Europe, and Las Americas itself was swarming with crowds of crazy people from almost all over the world, screaming, screaming, with some boards under their arms, looking for death in the ocean depths.
One of the locals, a street musician from the Golden Mile, I think, had once told her about hippies and meditators who had chosen one of the wildс, black, volcanic beaches somewhere on the west coast.
«Literally, a strip of fifty meters, senora,» he said, strumming Spanish tunes on nylon strings, «and you can’t swim up from the ocean. There are sharp rocks and underwater shoals. Perhaps the most secluded place in all of Tenerife.
There, he said, it was not so easy to get even to the omniscient guides, because the water basseun was well hidden between notcriminal rocks, but this guy claimed that he knew the secret exit to the ocean-a narrow, winding mountain path, and could accompany anyone on a bicycle for fifty Euros. But at the time, his suggestion of going tohell together had seemed too risky. Nowthis hidden place beckoned to her, depriving her of the instinct of self-preservation, and she decided to ask the musician in more detail. He often strummed his guitar, sitting nonchalantly on a cafe bench under a palmtree, and it was easy to find him.
– If I see these boarders there again, I will vote for the nationalists next fall! she admitted, almost blown away by the January wind.
Just then, a crowd of people with planks rushed out of the hotel and ran past, obviously in a hurry to catch a big wave.
«No, senora! The musician took her last remark as a joke. – I assure you, it’s an ideal place for those who are looking for themselves, and tomorrow morning at the first cockcrow we will ride with you for silence. It will be a grand journey.
They sat down for a five-minute chat in the cafe to discuss the details of the route and get to know each other better, and she was very happy not only with the grilled goat cheese with jam and octopus vinaigrette.
«I love the coffee here, senora,» he sipped passionately, «probably the best in Tenerife, and no worse than in Strasse.
He took another sip from his cup, relishingit in a long gulp, and with the unmistakable experience of a mature woman, she could tell that this funny guy had a lot of love potential.
«And there, won’t be anyone on this beach?»
«With any luck, senora, no one. Maybe a couple of tents. After all, I’m not the only one who knows the cherished path… ButI assure you, all these people will not be interested in us, and no questions, stupid pestering… They came to meditate, and we, too, will spread a large white towel on the black sand and indulge in dreams.
She looked at him questioningly. The word» surrender» came out of his hot coffee mouth with a sexy undertone, and she caught it, smelling the long-forgotten pleasant trail, but she didn’t pry as before, but smiled back. After all, this guy was about twenty years younger and she liked him.
«Let’s dream,» she repeated, savoring each syllable. «How well said, Diego.
«We’ll just be quiet, listening to the waves whisper,» he continued to tempt her, smacking his lips. «Can I have another cup of coffee, senora?»
She nodded eagerly to the waiter.
«What about Las Americas?» – What is it? «she asked after a while, looking into the black eyes of her unusual companion.
«What can I say?» Once upon a time, senora, there was a desert here. There was no sign of a resort town. My great grandfather used to extract salt from sea water here… Besides, enterprising people created a fairy tale here, brought a lot of sand from the Sahara. It’s hard to believe that when I was little, I almost fell under the bucket of an excavator. He almost cut me in half. Look at this, senora! And the narrator suddenly pulled up his threadbare sweater and started showing off his bulky abs, which barely showed the appendicitis scar. «Since then, my mother, thank Saint Anthony, says I was born in a shirt.
The mention of her mother, a woman who must havebeen her own age, upset the tourist a little, and she even began to look around to see if anyone was looking at her accusingly, thinking that she was currently filming a boy. But no one gave a damn, and she even took off her glasses.
«You will not be lost with me, senora,» he continued to dispel her doubts. – The main thing is to be able to pedal…
«Well, I can do that,» she assured him. – My ex-husband won the pea jersey twice at the Big Loop, and he taught me a few things over the course of twenty years of marriage.
«I don’t doubt yourabilities, but the climb is very steep… Iwarn you right away, you need to be patient, but it’s worth it…
By this time, she had paid the bill and was enjoying a delicious, cool chapitoserved by the waiter on a stick.
«I’m not afraid of difficulties, Diego. There are difficulties to overcome, and I have a lot of patience.
«Very well, senora! and he gaily held out his hand to shake hers in a friendly way.
Oddly nough, she didn’t want to part with this careless young man so easily, and as she looked at him, she tried to find any flaws in him. But apart from his youth, there was no vice in him, and she contented herself with a kiss on the cheek at parting. After all, this was the only person who understood her in any way.
Early in the morning, she went to the bike rental and ammunition store, as agreed the day before, but her guide was missing, and she waited for him until the evening, moving from one cafe toanother and cursing the Spanish «mañ? ana». Then he did show up, explaining that there was some good reason and they would definitely go to a quiet beach tomorrow.
«Go home and don’t worry, senora,» he assured her, kissing her cheek again.
OhNa didn’t sleep well all night, watching some cheap erotica in her sleep, and the next morning they were riding their bikes along the ocean. He was in the lead, and she was a little behind him, occasionallyglancing at his toned buttocks and the ease with which he pedaled.
«He probably goes to the gym sometimes,» she decided, feeling that she was нbeginning to get tired at the next rise, and deciding that it was urgent to change a fitness trainer back on the continent.
She also wanted to please Diego, to please him in a human way, without any heavy hints of sex or flirting. It had been a long time since she had felt such excitement, men were always too easy for her, and such an outsider role, which did not give anytangible trump cards, greatly depressed her. Several times she tried to catch up with him on the track, but he deftly broke away from her obsessive pursuit and laughed carelessly. She was angry, but she did not give up, hoping now for a fair wind, now for his mistake, and, like a sophisticated woman, she devised a terrible revenge for him. Sometimes, especially on winding descents, he would take a strong lead, and on flat sections he would keepa tantalizing short distance, and each time his companion came dangerously close, he would ask a question.
In fact, the whole spontaneous bike ride reminded her of her distant youth, and just like so many years ago, she took off her helmet and let her hair down, and it was quickly blown away bythe coastal wind. On weekends, she and her husband traveledfrom Paris to Reims to explore the endless vineyards and breathe in the clean air of Champagne. But only then was she always ahead, and, even when ЖJoule made a name for himself in the Tour de France, he always lost his first place to her.
She kept thinking of him when it was most difficult for her, and as if by inertia, she sought his protection and sympathy. Since the divorce, the two of them had barely spoken, except for the few scenes where they settled things in the presence of a lawyer. Yes, she Жhad robbed him like a stick, but it could have been even worse for him…
«Oh, poor, pathetic ЖJ’ul,» she said with a certain bitterness, as a car began to slow down beside her, honking loudly and honking its headlights.
There was a young group of gay men in pink jackets with bunny foam ears on their heads. All those bunny boys were leaning against the windows, giving her signs of approval, as if they were rooting for her on this damn long sprint. Diego, on the other hand, egged them on and stood up, actively wagging his hips and taking a big lead. Yes, here, in sports gear, without a guitar, he looked very different.
She suddenly had the absurd idea of turning back before it was too late and they were too far from Las Americas. To hell with fifty Euros and black virgin sand! After all, she doesn’t know this man at all, doesn’t know what’s on his mind. What if he’s some kind of maniac who lures rich visiting fools to the mountains, or, worse, a liberal with all these perverted tastes, and in a funny backpack, behind these broad shoulders, there are whips with metal balls and a set of police handcuffs?
«Diego, how much longer?» She called out, her pedals creaking with difficulty.
He glanced back, showing her a sweaty, red face, and smiled, gesturing condescendingly to the makeshift parking lot by the fence.
«I said, how long will you be sawing?» – What is it? «she asked, looking at the dusty prickly prickly prickly pear growing on the rocks alone, and marveling at how it survived in these terrible conditions.
They stopped, but didn’t get off their bikes.
«It’s getting close, senora,» he sipped from the bottle and, without looking, as if mechanically, offered the water, possibly mixed with his saliva, to the woman.
She ignored this tactlessness. Perhaps there was nothing wrong with her guide’s habitual behavior. But the ex-husband, of course, did not allow himself such a thing. He was generally a very cultured fellow, with the good aristocratic manners of a blue-blooded native, and even when she filed for divorce and it came to the division of property, he left her the first choice.
After all, let that smug Spaniard think I’m a feminist, she decided, sucking hungrily at the bottle.
Besides, she was very thirsty, and she didn’t give anyone else a chance. Diego grinned. In the open space where they were staying, with a view of the ocean, the wind was particularly raging. They couldn’t help but look at the winding coastal strip. It was low tide, and now the wave had moved very well away from the shore and was moving somewhere on the horizon, returning a new, big one… It suddenly seemed to the woman that someone was already fearlessly floating on the board under the wings of gulls.
«Yes, it’s a surfer’s paradise today,» Diego noticed her indignant gaze and smiled. «But don’t worry, senora. Where I will escort you, you will see only waves.
They set off again, and somewhere, quite unnoticed by her, they went into the mountains, ona narrow dirt road. Diego was as indefatigable as ever, and at first the climb was not noticeable, and when she turned off the noisy highway, she even enjoyed the singing of forest birds and curiously examined thedensely growing trees along the path, comparing them to French chestnuts. But then, when the climb became too difficult and she had to get off her bike and climb on foot, trampling the sparse grass under her feet, she again felt a revanchist mood and tried to take a shortcut along secondary paths. But, in the end, it only made the task more difficult for itself, and the guide did not even turn around and did not give a hand in difficult areas. The muscles in her legs ached with unaccustomed pain, and her back ached, and she remembered ЖJul again. At such times, he carried her in his arms.
«Diego, do you have a girlfriend?» – What is it? «she asked suddenly, for some reason.
«Yes, senora.» We live in her parents ' houseout of doors here.
«What does she do?»
«Studying like everyone else.
The conversation didn’t go well, and she chose not to ask her guide any more personalquestions. The sun seemed to have reached its zenith, but its rays barely penetrated the dense canopy of trees. The road became increasingly forked and frustrated, but the guide chose the path without hesitation, and only once did they have to go back to the previousintersection and turn left for the descent. In this mysterious semi-darkness, it suddenly seemed to her that she was completely lost with this Spaniard.
«I think I was given a dead bicycle.» It creaks like a newlyweds ' bed.
«I like mine,» Diego said, laughing as he swung himself onto it and rolled lightly down the rather shallow path that was artificially paved with stones.
«Why don’t we switch?» – already directly hinted she to him.
«No, senora! There are five gears here, and I’m afraid you just can’t handle the corners. After all, I’m responsible for you.
On one side there was a really dangerous drop and a low, just ridiculously low, fence, and on the other a high, sheer wall pressed down on them, and the branches of trees clinging to the stone touched their heads, and they even had to duck. There was a sign warning that the road was closed by car, but you’d have to be a complete idiot to risk even getting on a motorcycle. They weren’t pedaling anymore, just slowing down. The wheels spun themselves down the slope, and the sound of the wave grew clearer, and the wind blew harder from the ocean. Then they came out on a mountain ledge, and there were abandoned stone bungalows and sandstone caves. Judging by the rags and garbage bags hanging from the ropes, people lived here, and she looked at Diego in surprise.
«The most luxurious apartments on the island, senora,» he laughed. – Here on the cliff next to the ocean, go out and breathe deeply… Nash beach, however, is a little further away. Behind that rock!
She looked at the line of black rocks blocking her path to the cherished place and sighed heavily. They were too tired to do anything, and they still turned into the caves, sinking into the sand.
At the entrance of one of them, a small black girl was kneeling in the sand and playing with a doll. Next to it was an artificial Christmas tree, decorated with photos and magazine clippings of dogs of various breeds instead of Christmas toys and tinsel. Everything moved and rustled in the wind, as if drawing increased attention to itself, and the woman even asked Diego in a whisper.
«Is this the coming year of the dog?»
«No, of course not. he smiled. «It’s just that the little girl wants a dog.»
The girl also smiled, showing off her toothless gums. Diego greeted her affectionately and asked her in Spanish for an adult to look after the bikes. She nodded and continued playing with her doll as the cyclists dismounted. It was only necessary to go down to the beach on foot, crossing over black stones. Diego snapped his fingers to indicate to his silence hunter that she needed to thank the child a little, and she rummaged through her shorts and pulled out a few crumpled bills.
«They don’t give you change here,» he said as she handed the girl the money.
She immediately stopped playing and, taking them, ran into the cave. A thin, long-haired white man in ragged clothes soon emerged and raised his hand in greeting, and Diego waved back, exchanging a few words about the weather.
«What do they do here?» – What is it? «she asked her guide a little later.
«You can buy pot from them.
«Do you know them well?» Was he her father?
«Not that good. But the island is small, senora. Everyone here knows each other,» he evaded any further questions.
She looked around curiously for a while longer, exploring the everyday life of the people who lived here. A makeshift table with open-air books caught her attention. The books were old, with greasy pages, and she even stopped and flipped through a few of them.
«As you can see, they also sell literature, mostly vegan and in English.»
They had gone a little further down when they noticed that the black girl was following close behind them, and stopped when they did, too.
«She’s going to school soon,» the woman said.
«There’s no problem with that,» he said. – My nephew is also going to school this year. Everyone is treated equally, including migrant children.
«Where do they all come from?»
– Africa is near. In bad weather, rafts and boats are often washed up from Morocco. For them, we are a kind of transit point to Europe.
Before heading to their quiet beach, the travelers decided to soak their feet in the ocean in front of the caves. Here, too, there was a strip of shoreline, no more than a hundred meters long, with sparse palm trees growing into it, and the dirty, volcanic sand crumbled in his hands like gunpowder. The tide wasn’t out yet, and two young hippie girls in long, loose dresses were bagging garbage in the shallow water. All sorts of junk, gobies, plastic and glass bottles, remnants of fireworks and New Year’s fireworks were washed up by a wave from passing cruise ships by the previous high tide. The girls, as soon as they saw Diego, rushed to him with repeated kisses, completely ignoring his embarrassed companion, as if all this was a familiar thing for them.
«Maybe he takes women here too often,» she suggested, feeling a pang ofjealousy as they chatted fluently and sonorously about something of theirown.
She listened intently, but could not understand their fluent Spanish, and after taking off her shoes, she walked for a long time on the wet sand in a kind of discomfort, while they talked and laughed all the time, looking at her sideways. «She has nice breasts,» she only heard over the whistling wind, and was even more angry. All this forced her to act on her own, and she did not wait for Diego and defiantly moved to the black stones alone.
«Who does he think he is, you cheeky little brat?» – she said to herself, looking for a convenient passage between the stones…
After a while, they lay quite close to each other and talked, sharing their impressions. The quiet beach seemed to both of them a well-deserved fairy tale after a long, tiring drive, a fabulous place, beautiful and deserted, and they were not disturbed by anyone but the gusty wind, but it was also gentle with them, and attacked them as if asking for permission.
«You want to stay here forever and watch, look out at the ocean, expecting a big wave every time,» she admitted, taking out a pack of Esse and a lighter.
He didn’t smoke, but this time he reached for the cigarette she offered him.
«A painful death,» she read thoughtfully from the terrifying label on the pack. She used to be skeptical about all this, because there were no fewer smokers around her, and she attributed such things to the marketing ploy of the tobacco lobby. «Give me blindness… do you have throat cancer?» – she joked with the sellers, and they quickly found what she needed from the terrible pictures. Now the inscription in garish big letters made you think that life is finite, and that anyone, even the happiest creature in the world, is waiting for one final…
«You don’t smoke,» she smiled ruefully as Diego coughed out of habit.
He spread his hands, trying to stifle a cough, and took another drag on his cigarette. This time confidently and with a squint.
«You don’t have to suffer alone,» he said thoughtfully.
It was that very sacred moment of reconciliation when they involuntarily turned to you, and all past grievances were left behind black stones. They were lucky. The beach was deserted, just the two of them lying on it, looking out at the blue ocean. However, she always felt that someone was watching them from behind the rocks and guessed that it could be the same little African girl. Several times she caught that sharp, invisible gaze on her, but each time she got used to it, and soon it didn’t bother her anymore. Tomorrow she was leaving for Paris, leaving this «dog» island forever, and such an unusual farewell to him suited her perfectly.
Diego, as promised, spread a wide white blanket on the black sand. The weather was wonderfullycold. The sun was shining brightly, flooding the entire space with a warm golden light. A fresh, salty wind, anticipating spring, whistled over them, ripping off their clothes and pulling at their hair, and from an excess of indescribable emotions, their heads were spinning. But what was she dreaming of now, and what was he dreaming of when he found himself in a remote place alone with the ocean? A large, foaming wave, sparkling in the sun like a diamond duster, had just hit the beach before it reached ha couple of paces away. They had already taken off their outer clothing and exposed their eager bodies to this great element. The man wanted to touch the woman, and he gently ran his finger down her neck, then over her shoulder. She didn’tpull away, long expecting tenderness from him, and he touched her breasts, along the top of her bathing suit. She liked his slow touch, and she began to moan softly, helping him and telling him that he was doing the right thing. Then he slid his hand under her bra, and she moaned louder.
And yet, she thought, he didn Ж’t allow himself to do sucha thing, as she leaned backand put her hands behind her head.
She smiled at the sky through her dark glasses, not knowing why, and soon closed her eyes as her young lover’s hand slid down her stomach and into her panties. The last vestiges of propriety were blown away by the wind, vainly cooling their bodies, hot with excitement, and the difference in age and social status was instantly washed away by a new wave. His musical fingers seemed to play music, carving the fire of passion on the keys of her disturbed soul, and she accompanied him with sweet moans and rapid breathing. Then he took her, his powerful torso covering the entire ocean floor, and she writhed beneath him, feeling his destructive power all over her skin and at the same time her doom, like a snake struck by a well-aimed spear. Their lips were painfully touching, he was kissing her everywhere as if he’d gone mad, and she was scratching at hisback, trying to strangle him, wrapping her legs around his torso… He would say something rude and obscene to her, sometimes whispering his Spanish tunes, and she would recognize his undeniable talent for seduction and, against her better judgment, fall in love like a fool with every violent thrust of his broad hips. At one point, she suddenly wanted to sing the Marseillaise, but she couldn’t remember the syllables, and in that oblivion, she even forgot her name. Now her hands were on his toned buttocks, and with her eyes closed, she resigned herself to her fate.