Chapter 5
1434 Words
Chapter 5
Pulsating beats drifted across the beach and a cyclone of colourful rays belted out over the top of the dancing masses as the moon winked over the calm night waters behind them. Frank spotted Theo through the crowd and moved towards him.
Theo turned and grinned. “Hey Franky; you enjoy?”
“Fantastic! Happy as Larry.”
“Larry?”
“Oh! It’s just an English saying,” explained Frank.
Theo laughed and scanned his eyes through the dancing party-goers. “Hey, check out the beautiful girls over there!”
“There’s way too many for me, mate,” Frank said, smiling at Theo in the dim light.
Frank looked around for Maria but she had disappeared. After meeting on the beach they had walked to the flea market; a busy scene with snake charmers and old travellers flogging their junk. Then they had enjoyed some dinner together, some of the best fish Frank had ever tasted, before joining the beach party.
Theo motioned for him to move towards the edge of the crowd. Frank felt a cold sweat, his shirt sticking to his back. Theo began building a joint, but Frank suddenly craved water as he slowly became aware of his heart pumping hard.
“I’m going to find a toilet, Theo. I’ll catch you later.”
“Sure, Frank. See you later.”
After pushing through the heaving mass, Frank eventually found a vacant toilet at the back of a bar and, on returning, pondered whether to stick around or call it a night.
“Hey!”
He turned to see a scowling, stooped, man leaning heavily on the bar. His white hair straggled around his bony brown neck and shoulders which held a bunch of necklaces, adorned with shells and what looked like bone fragments.
“They call me the dawg!” he growled at no one in particular. It sounded to Frank like his voice was scarred by a forty a day habit and penchant for whiskey chasers. The man then peered at Frank from under bushy, untamed eyebrows.
“How’s it going, Dog?” Frank extended his hand for the Dog to shake, but he just stood staring over his shoulder at something behind him before walking off without another word. Frank shook his head in disbelief and turned around to be faced with a tall, blond, German man.
“Zat dog,” he stated,” is a legend around here!”
“I can tell he is,” Frank said, sarcastically, wearily moving away to the exit, suddenly deciding he would call it a night after all. He strolled along the path amongst the palm trees and huts and as he glanced toward the trees near the parallel road, noticed Maria walking along a path that converged with his.
“Hey, Maria.”
She turned her head at the sound of his voice. “Hey, Frank.” Even in the limited light, he could make out her full beautiful smile.
“Did you have a good time? I lost you.”
“Yes, it was busy. I went for a wander along the beach, and then went back, but I couldn’t see you,” she said.
They strolled through the moonlit palms. The beams from the beach party behind them continued to streak across their path like a myriad of beacons.
“Were you looking for answers in that view of the sea again?” he quipped.
Maria laughed, her hands still toying with a seashell, perhaps the same one she had earlier. “Yes, I didn’t find many there though. It was much too dark to see anything.”
They arrived at Frank’s hut. “This is my grand abode,” he said, catching her eye in the faint light before moving closer. He reached a hand to caress her cheek and their lips met hastily. Maria opened up to him, while Frank’s hand moved around her waist, pulling her into him until her breasts pressed against him.
They moved inside the small hut and into the bedroom. Frank scrambled around for his lighter and lit his oil lamp, regretting his decision to go for a cheap hut without electricity. Maria took off her long, Indian style gown and unclipped her bra as Frank opened the mosquito net.
“Quick! Hop in!” he urged, smiling at her as he removed his shirt and shorts before diving in behind the safety of the net.
“I wouldn’t want to share you with any mosquitoes,” he whispered.
Frank felt her heart beat against his chest. Her skin felt smooth and warm against his and he welcomed it. She smelled sweet and it reminded him of something; a smell from the distant past.
***
An hour later, Frank ran his hand over Maria’s slender curves as she lay on her stomach with her face turned towards him. He moved his hand up the small of her back to where the end of her curly hair lay easily on her skin. She looked at him with half-closed eyes; her face and mouth obscured by her arm, and let out a satisfied sigh. The flickering oil lamp danced animated shadows across their bodies and seemed comforting to Frank somehow, like the rain that transfixed him back home.
“What are you looking for out here?” she asked softly.
“Sun, sea and Dutch women,” he said, with a cheeky grin.
Maria laughed. “I see.”
Frank returned his gaze to her soft skin, listening to the sound of the lapping tide just outside the hut that seemed to draw closer as if closing in around their feet.
“I had a major urge to take off and leave. I broke up with someone. We didn’t want the same things,” said Frank.
“People drift apart every day, in the same way, they’re pulled together,” she said and slowly moved her hand over his chest. “Was it a long relationship?”
“A few years. We were supposed to get married. Kids; the works,” Frank said.
“A pretty serious relationship then?”
“Oh yes. It was serious,” he whispered, almost mockingly.
Frank turned his body towards her. “What about you? Any Dutch hunks waiting for you at home?”
Maria expelled a loud laugh.
“No, no. Not in Holland. I had a boyfriend in Hong Kong for a while. Nothing came of it.”
“Chinese?”
“No. A Frenchman.”
“A Frenchman in Hong Kong. Sounds like a novel.”
“My life has been a bit of a novel, you could say,” she said with a wry smile.
“I look forward to hearing all about it,” said Frank, reaching for a cigarette.
“Any other family?”
Frank quietly sighed, wondering whether he wanted to continue this conversation. Usually, he didn’t, when asked. He’d just lie or make something up, anything to avoid going down that road.
“No, unfortunately, they’ve all gone. My parents were killed in a car crash when I was seven. My only surviving relatives were my grandfather and Uncle. Grandad passed away a few months ago.”
Maria turned onto her side, looking at him with genuine sadness, “I’m sorry Frank. That’s awful. It must have been extremely hard for you.”
Frank watched the spiral curl of bluish smoke waft up through the mosquito net.
“The pain recedes over time, but it never goes away. I do miss them, I really do. But I was so young. The memories of them are,” he paused. “Kind of faded, you know?”
Frank stubbed out his cigarette and placed the ashtray outside the net.
They lay in silence for a while. The light gush of the tide seemed to slow down and sleep took them quickly.
***
Lightning forked across the black sky overhead, a power of nature that Frank had never seen before. It lit up the endless flat fields that surrounded their cottage for miles. He could even see the trees by the farm where he played army with his friends. There was a tree house there, where they kept their plastic toy guns. The endless dykes acted like trenches and in a field next to the farm stood unused tractors that had been left to rust for years.
She held his hand tight.
“It’s OK sweetheart. It’s just a storm.”
They waited for Dad on the cottage doorstep, clutching their coats as protection against the downpour.
“Come on, Patrick, we’re late,” his mother shouted.
Frank’s father appeared behind them, his anorak rustling as he sorted through his keys. “Right, get ready and make a run for it,” he said.
The three figures sprinted down the pathway to the Ford Escort parked on the road and they all clambered inside as quickly as they could.
Patrick turned to his son in the back seat. “You all belted up, Frankie boy?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Good lad.”
Patrick started the engine and the windscreen wipers kicked into action, barely keeping the torrent of rain at bay.
“God, would you look at that?” His mother stared across at the field opposite the house.
Patrick and Frank followed her stare and saw the cow, lying on its back with one hind leg stuck upwards as straight as a pole. The carcass looked frozen as if it had been struck by a spear from the sky.
“What happened to it, Dad?”
“It must have been hit by lightning. In the wrong place, at the wrong time. Poor cow,” he said and laughed.
The car slowly moved off, momentarily getting closer to the strange sight in the field as they drove by. Frank’s small face stared out of the window at the dead animal, and then he looked away.
- Writer
