Carefully, the Gestalt doors are closing
- -
- 100%
- +
“Great,” I said, taking the glass and straw from her hand.
“There’s still plenty of drinks and snacks,” she said, gesturing toward the cafe. “Will you go?” Avena suggested.
– I’m not hungry, “I said.
Avena lay down with me on the light beige bedspread to watch the sea. She took a sip from her glass and then talked about Sean, saying she missed him so much. Her voice mingled with the sound of the sea and dissolved into it, it enveloped and calmed me, as if rocking me in a sea cradle, but suddenly she said:
“Do you want me to show you a picture of him?”
I shivered, immediately moving from the sea dope to reality.
“No, – I said sharply, squeezing the handful of warm sand in my hand for some reason. “Let’s do it later,” I said, and quickly changed the subject.
I said I’d rubbed my toes with my tight shoes. It’s a good thing it was, but I only noticed it now, when I saw the redness on the little finger of my left foot. Avena said she had a Band-Aid for her. I was glad she’d taken the bait, because a Band-Aid can heal a finger, and a soul that has a wound can’t be covered with a Band-Aid. I didn’t want her to show me Sean’s pictures, because I didn’t have anyone to show her.
Chapter Three
I hoped that I would get a light tan, because I didn’t want to stand out too much from her tanned friends and feel like a black sheep in the truest sense of the word. Plus, my dark hair color only served to accentuate the pallor of my skin, which hadn’t seen the sun in so many years.
I didn’t say anything on the way home. Thankfully, Avena didn’t say anything either, having talked too much on the beach. She drove the car and smiled to herself. I didn’t touch her in that dreamy state, especially since I knew she was thinking about Sean. I was also thinking about my life, but not about Sean, and I was trying to watch my expression so that the corners of my mouth wouldn’t turn down and my face wouldn’t curl up in a sarcastic grin.
It was strange that every little thing I saw here brought my past back to me again. There seemed to be no getting away from him. It was here, everywhere, beside me, traveling with me. This is the sea… Jan and I haven’t been to the sea, but we wanted to go. I remembered what he’d said, how we’d lay together under the covers and dreamed of swimming together. I would pretend that I wasn’t very good at swimming, so that he would keep me afloat. At the thought of it, I finally gave up and sighed heavily.
“Why are you sighing, my friend?” Then I heard Avena’s voice.
“It’s hot,” I said, the first thing that came to mind. “But never mind, the house will cool me down now.
“Oh, did you notice that it’s chilly out there, too?” – What is it? “she asked with a smile. – And it’s not air-conditioned, it’s designed to be cool even on the hottest day.
“Cool,” I told Avena, looking out the windshield at the road that led us down the winding lane. – I’ll get some sleep when we get back, I’m too sleepy, “I said, just so that no one would touch me when we got there. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts so I could think about what to do next.
It was strange, but when I came here, I thought that I would finally find company and forget myself for a short time, and now I chose to be alone with myself and with my thoughts. Because I brought my “swamp” with me.
Soon we arrived at the house. By this time, Savannah was awake. When I got out of the car, I saw a girl in a white lace dress standing in the sunlit doorway, it was Savannah. I waved at her. It was obvious how happy she was to have a new person, because she didn’t have enough communication.
Savannah had a genetic condition that left its mark on the structure of her face. Avena and I didn’t talk much about it, I didn’t feel comfortable asking questions, and I didn’t want to find out anything.
“Hi, I’m Donna,” I said very politely as I approached her.
“And this is Savannah,” Avena said for her, coming up with me.
Savannah nodded and smiled. I didn’t know why Avena answered for her, but it was clear that she loved her sister very much. Savannah was still very young, about twenty or twenty-five years old, and she looked like her older sister.
Savannah’s hair was blond, slightly longer than Avena’s.
Savannah giggled merrily as we entered the house. It was obvious that she grew up in love and acceptance, so the syndrome that left its mark on her appearance did not affect the feeling of inner freedom.
In fact, I was afraid to see her face, but not because of her genetic disorder, but because I basically became afraid of new people, they reminded me of the “old” ones, the ones from my old life, the life that ended five years ago, but did not let go until now. Sometimes it seemed to me that reality was playing a cruel trick on me, because the new people were similar in appearance or in their habits, manner of communication to those who were with me then, it was as if I was being sucked back into the swamp of the past. Any resemblance of this world to the one I’d left behind made me shiver. I was glad that Savannah wasn’t like any of them. But I was glad early, because Avena suddenly exclaimed:
“Do you want to see what kind of dolls Savannah makes?”
– what? I flinched at the unexpected suggestion.
“Let’s go, let’s go!” Savannah said happily in a deep voice as she took my hand and pulled me along. That’s how I first heard her voice.
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