Note:
This short story was published in 2014 in my old WordPress blog. It’s been years since I took it down. Because of a banter with Twitter friends, I decided to put this back online for public reading. While I would most likely employ the same theme and characters if I have to write this again with my improved writing skill now, I would change a lot as well: introduction, dialogues, sentence structures, and even conclusion. But I’m not going to. I wanted to present this exactly how I wrote it during the early days of my writing life. If people will tear this down for any odd reason, there’s always a bottle of vodka to comfort me with every unexpected criticism 😉 Enjoy!
The sea was a friendly azure, gently smashing the rocks surrounding the lighthouse. The soft but bright rays of the sun complimented the symphony of salt water down below. I was looking out from one of the lighthouse’s windows into the temperamental sea. It was peaceful and inviting. I remembered how it could be cruel and very angry at times, which was the very reason for this lighthouse’s existence.
I was sitting on a chair beside the window. Vodka was across me on her own red chair. We were both refreshed from last night’s gig when I danced alone along Canon in D Major from the piano. She watched me stepped across the floor. She did not dance but she observed. Dancing wasn’t her thing.
“So about last night,” I began our morning conversation. “Thank you for listening to my blabber. I know sometimes I talk too much. That’s why I really appreciate someone who can listen to me.”
Vodka nodded and smiled in return. She turned her head to the vast canvas of water below while keeping herself very still on her chair. She was subtle yet very effective.
“My apologies if I got quite emotional,” I continued. Like her, I also turned to the majestic sea. There was a hypnotic wave that slowly enveloped me while I continued speaking. “It’s hard to bottle up emotions. You can only keep it inside for a time. It will overflow and you were my victim.”
The rocks remained strong against the waves splashing all over them. They stood there like century sentinels, sturdy and not moving. No trace of pain could be seen from their faces. There was no complaint, no rant, no cry of injustice. They did their part so well. They were a dangerous threat to any wandering visitor, especially in the dark.
“Do you admire them?” I turned to face my companion.
She did admire them. She noted that those rocks didn’t really stay the same. The consecutive slaps by the sea water forced them to change slowly. The rocks’ faithful companions knew how they have changed. Little by little, they decayed through time. That decay didn’t matter in the long run for they were still standing and protecting their ruler.
“I wish I can be like those rocks,” I blurted to Vodka. “Admired for their strength and will. Feared for their sharp edges.”
My companion let out a silent laugh. I looked at her but she didn’t tell me what the laugh was for. I tried to control a sigh and smiled, looking once more to the grand blue. Then, it hit me.
“Or maybe I am like them after all.”
Nobody knew the pain the sea inflicted upon the rocks with every wave. A clashing sound of resistance always resulted with each contact. People looked from afar. They never joined the battle. They feared the onslaught the waves would bring. They feared more the wrath the rocks could deliver should they fell prey to the water. Everybody feared blood. Everybody feared pain. Everybody feared death.
My eyes became a little warm. The sun slowly rose and elevated the rays of light entering the room. It was a nice change from the solemnity that was with us last night. My conversation with Vodka happened in a series of confessions. I began by dancing slowly when the first few chords of Canon rode the air. She eyed my dancing gingerly. Whether she was bemused or amused I didn’t know. I kept dancing until Pachelbel’s piece ended and the piano came to a temporary halt. I sat down next to Vodka with a grin. I described to her how I felt in a series of adjectives. Sad. Confused. Disappointed. Angry. Lost. For a moment I thought she’d break me for even I was puzzled as to how a human being could feel a plethora of emotions. She smiled. She didn’t even insist that I should be happy.
The morning sea was very much like a loving grandfather. It looked full of wisdom and tough compassion. It had a mysterious yet awe-inspiring allure that always conquered everyone. Its smell was very strong that it didn’t only just affected the nose. It touched the skin and the hair and clung to the body even when walking away.
“In one of my most impossible ambitions, I would like to cross at least a quarter of the world’s sea. Someday, I will sail on a boat for at least 30 days. If I muster enough courage and equipment I would like to meet the inhabitants of the ocean.”
She gave me that reassuring look that comforted me the night before. It seemed she had done at least one of the things I just mentioned. She didn’t confirm but I kind of knew.
When the spirit on the piano began playing Canon for the second time, I got up from my feet to dance. That time I danced faster. Whether Canon was playing in a faster tempo or my two feet had found renewed energy, it didn’t matter. Time doubled in half a minute. Vodka’s eyes did not fail to keep up with me. I crossed a wider space on the floor than I did on my first dance. After the piece, I sat next to her again with some adrenaline running throughout my being. I started my litany.
“It’s scary to feel so much in so little time. I haven’t found my grip for one and another comes in already. Nobody wants to explain and elaborate. They just want to throw what they don’t like away and remain happy. There’s nothing wrong with being happy but I can’t be happy all the time. You can’t make me eat apples for the rest of my life when there are other fruits available out there. Why do some people choose only one color for their favorite? I like black and blue. I know you like red and purple, and perhaps brown.”
There was silence between me and Vodka for a couple of minutes. Canon started once more and I had to get back on my feet.
“Sometimes I don’t think I have friends. If I do then why am I here with you,” I said to Vodka as a hurried to the dance floor. “I don’t mean that to disrespect you.”
The air coming through the window smelled so fresh. It was even more exhilarating since we were seated beside the window. I felt my senses being cleansed and my spirit being reborn. Vodka felt refilled and renewed, ready for any adventure fate would throw her way. The sun didn’t do harm to the air. It wasn’t hot. It was cool and warm. I felt like a hundred pairs of angels’ hands were hugging me. It was soft and sweet.
My companion told me stories of the men she was with before. Crying and outbursts ruled the night she spent with them. Then the following morning they were back to putting smiles on their faces, some forced and some were not. Only a few of them mentioned anything related to the night that preceded.
“How did you feel?” I asked her. I felt guilt when I tried to calculate if I were doing the same to her. She gave me that reassuring smile she had done to me many times. She didn’t mind any of it. She had been accustomed to the role of companion and listener that it had been ingrained to her being. It was her life’s purpose, to be a friend to the lonely, to be a wife to the widower, to be a daughter to the childless.
“Thank you,” I uttered in a serious tone. “And I am not afraid to talk about last night in case you are wondering,” I let out a short laugh and stuck my tongue out for a few seconds.
By the third Canon, I was spinning faster than ever. The piano increased the tempo that in the middle I failed to recognize the piece. I just kept on dancing and laughing. Vodka eyed me with satisfaction. The room became a blur of pastel colors. I could still tell where Vodka was lying. She was a transparent spot against the colorful dome. As the last keys faded, a new smell occupied the atmosphere. I wanted to sit next to her again but my legs failed me. I slumped on the floor. The high ceiling filled my vision. My breathing became constricted. I felt warm against the cold floor. I thought I was beginning to become sick to my stomach. Then I felt Vodka beside me. She reached out her hand to mine. She put the other on my forehead and stroked my hair. The strokes kept on coming my eyes began to spin. My temples took a new shape. My hands were numb.
I looked for her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
The music played again. This time it was softer. It was coming from inside my ears. It played somberly each note rolled over my skin.
Then it happened. I cried. Tears rolled down my eyes to my ears. Outside, I thought I heard rain. The music became faint. Bubbles came out from my mouth. The disappointments surfed throughout my entire body and left through my feet. The confusions swirled inside my head and disappeared during my gasps. Sadness surfed from my diaphragm to my throat. It evaporated as tears filled my ears. Anger pumped its way out through my skin. It was more pain than I ever wanted. Vodka never let go of my hand. She kept on stroking my hair and hummed a lullaby. She wiped the tears rolling down from my left eye and kissed my cheek. The ceiling disappeared and I saw stars. Orion shot me a grin and stepped his feet on my head. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe.
“Can I come back here if I want to?” I asked Vodka. The sun was higher now. It was becoming warmer including the air. “I never forget those who lend a hand in my days of trouble.”
I looked down the window onto the shore below. I walked to the grand piano, took the cap and put it on Vodka. We shared a warm hug that I would always remember. She gave me that reassuring smile she gave to each men she encountered. I tried to hide a tearful eye with a smile. The spirit played Canon in D once more.
I turned to it and laughed, “You are so swell.”
I looked out the window again. I stared down the rocks. I scanned the sea. I took in the warm air. I tried to courageously face the sun.
Photo by Casia Charlie from Pexels.
Xeno Hemlock 
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