In This Life (5 page)

Read In This Life Online

Authors: Christine Brae

BOOK: In This Life
8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Only they were baby blues and not dusky browns.


Arrete
!
S’il vous plait
!” I pushed him off me with all my might. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this!” I sprang to my feet, straightening my clothes and tying my dress back behind my neck. He was too dazed to make a move. “I’m so sorry, Delmar, please forgive me. This is crazy.” I stumbled along the sand, trying to get as far away from everyone as quickly as I could. Wow, that was unsettling. I was officially losing it. I needed some time alone to summon back my sanity.

“Spark!” Dante called from behind me. “Are you okay?”

“I just need to take a walk,” I yelled back. “Don’t worry, I’ll only be a few minutes.” I shuffled briskly, embarrassed about getting carried away with sordid thoughts of some guy I just met in middle of the night.

The light along the beach slowly dissipated as I moved further away from the group, my path illuminated only by the glow of the sea foam that rolled along the shore. I could see little of what lay ahead, except for a small light that shone right above the water like a beacon in the middle of nowhere. My curiosity was piqued. I let the light lead me, half drunk and questioning myself for moving this far away from the group. I made a mental note to turn back soon. Dante was going to be worried and I was sure he would blame me for once again interrupting his sex time.

I stopped when I chanced upon a wooden structure held up by solid pillars rising high above the water, moving closer until I stood at the foot of the steep steps resembling a ladder built straight up against the landing. A Baan Rim Nam, meaning house on the water. Since the weather in Southern Thailand was prone to many typhoons and monsoon rains, these stilt houses were often built on cement posts to protect them from floating away.

The raft house looked damaged or incomplete, only partially enclosed with bundles of bamboo. Its floor was uneven and rough, made with floorboards that hurt your feet. In the middle of the open space was a battery operated lantern, the source of the light that had guided me here. A neatly made up futon lay on the floor by the window, surrounded by a blanket, some clothes, and empty beer bottles. Above the bed a large wooden crucifix was nestled between the slats of wood, held together by unrefined rope.

The front of the house was exposed to the clear, blue water. The view was unobstructed, surrounded only by dried out coconut palms held up by poles to shelter the home. It was evident that a storm had blown out part of it, leaving the toilet and sink area as the only section covered by a provisional wall. I stiffened impulsively as the floor behind me sagged with the weight of someone else.

Even before I saw him, I knew.

I felt my heart calming down, my stupor beginning to leave me. Slowly, I turned around to face him.

“You found it.” Jude smiled at me. His eyes weren’t dark that night. They were hazel and luminous and light. There was no formal greeting, no, “What are you doing here?” It was as if he’d been waiting for me to find him.

“I did.”

“What took you so long?” he asked, his grin spreading from ear to ear.

“I’ve never walked this far out before,” I said.

His eyes called to me, beckoning me to come closer, but his body language said otherwise. He seemed nervous. He kept his hands at his sides and rocked back and forth on his heels.

I moved closer, one tiny step at a time, until we were only an arm’s length apart. Every step towards him was unintended, every emotion unexplained. I stopped when I was near enough to feel his breath on me, and as I gazed up, he looked down so that our noses were almost touching. The air around us was fraught with tension, the kind that manifested itself through the reactions of the flesh. The heat of his stare seared me, knocked the wind out of me. The compassion in his eyes grabbed hold of me in the middle of my storm and set me safely on solid ground. Just like last night, when he pulled my head out of the water.

And there it was again, that band of light that seemed to radiate just above his head. Slivery, silvery shining light.

I noticed the rise and fall of our chests in unison, and a rapid surge of energy. And as I turned to step away, he grabbed my shoulder with his right hand and spun me around before pressing me tightly against his body. I was in the arms of a stranger, but in the embrace of someone I had known for a hundred years. I couldn’t explain what had just happened. We spoke in the silence, lost in the uncertainty of it all. It was both disturbing and exhilarating and I forgot where I was in the world at this very instant. All that mattered was that he was here and that he’d touched me.

“What is this? What’s happening here?” I gasped. He held me up with his long, strong arms. I was dizzy, weak, and confused.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, cradling my head close to his chest, his other arm wrapped around my waist while mine were entwined around his neck. “We always seem to find each other.”

I don’t know how long we remained this way. I finally took a step back and covered my mouth to stifle a giggle, embarrassed by the giddiness of it all.

“Oh, God, I’m so drunk,” I said. My cheeks and ears began to burn.

“I know.” Gently, he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear before brushing his thumbs across my cheeks.

I walked towards the futon on the floor but he stayed rooted in place, watching as I moved away. “I’m going to sleep this off,” I said, dropping to my knees and rolling onto the mattress. “Can we talk tomorrow?” I went about this as if it were my home, my bed, my blanket. Everything here was so comfortable, familiar and safe.

“Yes. Tomorrow.”

 

 

 

IT WASN’T THE
first time that I woke up to find a man watching me sleep. Ordinarily, I would be cringing at the creepiness, but this time it was different. The comfort of his presence, the light in his eyes, and the smile on his face were a welcome relief. It didn’t hurt to open my eyes to the bright light of the sun shining across an endless body of pure, blue water. Jude was sitting next to me with two paper cups of coffee on top of a corrugated cardboard tray right by his feet.

“Hi,” I said.

I sat up and steadied myself before walking towards the bathroom. A tiny wooden ledge held a razorblade and a tube of toothpaste, and a tub of water sat right underneath the sink. Above it, a shard of glass was held up on the wall by two tiny paperclips, allowing one to see only one eye through it. I guess there was no need for a mirror. All you had to do was look down upon the clear blue water to see a reflection of yourself. I spread a drop of toothpaste on my teeth and rinsed it off with a handful of water. My unkempt hair sat on the top of my head like a bird’s nest. I deftly pulled it back and used some wayward strands to wrap it neatly into a bun.

I walked back towards the futon and took a seat right next to him.

“I didn’t do anything stupid last night, did I?” I laughed nervously, hugging my knees to my chest.

He handed me the cup of coffee but didn’t let go until he felt my fingers close around the cup to touch his. “Well, I don’t know what you did before you got here, but no, nothing crazy with me,” he said.

“Whew! Okay,” I said, visibly relieved. “Whose place is this?”

“I found it three weeks ago. I asked around the village, and they told me that it was owned by a family of four before the typhoon.”

“Where are they now? What happened to them?” I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. “No one knows. They say that the mother and child were lost at sea and the father and son have left the village.”

A broken family. Just like mine. My mood turned quickly.
Was today the day of the surgery? Why hadn’t I heard from my father? Did he relay my message to her?

“Oh. I would be afraid to stay in a house marked by tragedy,” I said sadly.

He placed his paper cup on the floor and leaned back against the wall. I worried that the floor was too uneven to hold the cup upright for very long and so I kept my eye on it while he spoke.

“On the contrary, I feel their peace in this house. I can’t explain it, but I sense many happy times here.”

“Don’t you live in the same house that I do?” I asked.

Jude swatted his hand at the mosquitoes encircling the top of our heads. “I do. I go over there to take a shower and eat sometimes. But I like to stay here after a day in the village. It helps me to decompress. I like to revel in the quiet, remind myself of the beauty of the world despite all this ugliness.”

“I know what you mean. Three days ago, we had to help try to resuscitate a baby who had just stopped breathing. He was so thin, I was afraid he would break into little pieces when I held him.” I paused. The memory of that little boy would forever be in my mind.

He nodded his head in understanding. And then he caught me by surprise.

“Do you do that every night? Get high like that?”

“No.” I set my sights on the blueness in front of me. Sea and sky. Different shades, unequal depths. If I looked far enough, I could see the clouds bobbing up and down like balloons floating in the water.

“It’s been two nights in a row.” He wasn’t going to give it up.

“Issues,” I snapped back. I didn’t feel defensive, just irritated; if he wanted to get to the bottom of it, we would. “I was mad at my mom for something. Really angry and confused. And then I found out that she’s sick, which in a screwed up way pisses me off even more. I thought I could use the time here to get away from it all and do some good at the same time. You know, focus my energies on something else.”

“Interesting. You leave your problems behind at home only to come to a place with bigger problems.” The glint in his eyes remained full of kindness. He wasn’t judging, he was making me think things through in my head.

“I can make a difference here. There’s nothing I can do about the problems at home.”

“But the people who love you, who you love, need you there. You’re pouring out your efforts on strangers. Charity starts at home, they say.”

I didn’t bother to come up with a response. In another time, I would have lashed out, but his honesty was refreshing. He was a complete stranger to me, and already he had successfully started to chip away at the barrier.

“Who are you?” I asked, my tone quiet and almost somber. I fidgeted with the paper cup, trying my best to avoid looking at him.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be so off-putting. I don’t know why but I just have this feeling that I can tell you anything and you’ll take it all in stride,” he answered sheepishly, his hand instinctively brushing over his thick black hair.

“Then talk to me. Who are you? And is your name really Jude? Do you have another name?” I lightened my tone and nudged him with my elbow.

“Ah.” He laughed. “Jude Patrick.”

“Hmm. Okay, let’s see.” I scrunched up my nose. “Patrick isn’t any better, I’m afraid. I think I’m just going to call you by your last name.”

“Okay, Blue.”

I did a double take to make sure I heard him correctly. “In case you didn’t notice, I have red hair, not blue.”

“That’s what they call redheads in Australia. They call them Blueys. That was what popped into my head the day I saw you at the house.”

“And you know this term because?” I asked sarcastically.

“I lived there for a year.”

“Oh.” I began to twist the tip of my hair between my fingers. “Well, this hair does tend to stand out in a crowd.” I consciously smoothed it down, feeling very unattractive all of a sudden. I accidentally brushed over the bun, causing my hair to cascade down over my shoulders.

He had this uncanny way of reading my mind, of providing me with assurances just by looking at me in silence. He reached his arm out and brushed his fingers against my face. “You’re everything I imagined you would be. Fiery, strong. Sexy. The ultimate temptation.” There was a shift in his mood. It had turned from thoughtful to playful.

I laughed sarcastically to mask my embarrassment. “All this in the ten seconds that you’ve spent with me?”

“I’ve been watching you for a while. It took you a few days to find me, but I knew you would eventually,” he said with smiling eyes.

All right then, here we go. It was time to walk away from this awkward situation. I was uncomfortable, not because of what he was saying, but because if I didn’t leave, this guy was going to make me want to do things I should never do in broad daylight, and in half a house that was exposed to the sky and sea. Whether in the dark or in the sunshine, his lips were still the only things that I could see.

“Hey, what time is it?” I sat on my knees in an effort to rise up and leave. “I was planning to make it to 9:30 mass.” I wanted to find some quiet time to think about my mother. The past two days had given me some space to work things out in my head. Was it something he said to me? Somehow I was ready to revisit my feelings about her. I was willing to begin the process of healing.
Charity starts at home.

“It’s only eight o’clock,” Jude said with a heavy sigh and tightly pressed lips before glancing at his phone and placing it back down behind him on the floor.

“Perfect! I can run home and jump in the shower before then. Hey,” I addressed him with genuine gratitude on my face, “thank you for allowing me to stay here last night. Maybe I’ll see you around again soon. At least in Monday’s class.”

Other books

Doctor In The Swim by Richard Gordon
Essence of Desire by Jackson, Brenda
Ralph's Party by Lisa Jewell
Unsafe Harbor by Jessica Speart
The Goddess Inheritance by Aimée Carter
The Cornflake House by Deborah Gregory
Marrying Ameera by Rosanne Hawke
Do You Trust Me? by Desconhecido(a)