White Stain

       

The roar of the billowing waves woke me up. It was already sundown. I must have slept that long.

I felt the wet hem of the towel I was lying on. The waters were playing at my feet. And someone's eyes were playing on me too.

I gazed up. There he was smiling at me, contentedly staring at my wholeness, a total stranger.

I smiled back. I loved being stared at, men's stupefaction.

Gilbert, that was his name. After the free dinner I had with him that night, I invited him for a walk along the shore.

The placid dance of the water ripples reflected the light of the full moon. One can't help but notice and look up at the sky. The sparkling stars, however, we're trying to snatch admiration.

I love the bright skies, he said.

I love the bright skies too. I love the stars. But not the moon. Not the moon and the man in it.

The wind blew.

Why?  He asked.

Because it's like a fetus in a round jar.

He smiled. He seemed amused.

Suddenly I felt cold. I hugged myself.

I looked at him. He seemed nice, gentle, easy to get along with. All men appeared to be. 

Well, it didn't matter. After all, I didn't know him and I had no plan to. Fact is, I feel freedom when I'm with a stranger. I could talk. I could tell stories. My stories could be true. Or could be lies. Who cared?

So I told him about my lady friend who got pregnant out of wedlock. The father didn't want the baby. So he told her to get rid of it. She felt crushed learning his true color. She cried. She cried hard yet she obeyed. She almost lost her sanity. Ahh, she sort of lost it. Actually. Partly.

I swallowed hard. My mind started to wander again.

She lost the baby, I continued.  It was a boy.  But no, she kept him.

I heard the rattling of bottles.  I paused.

What happened to the father?  Gilbert asked gently.

He married another girl, I mused.  And my lady friend gave him the best wedding she could think of... in a jar.

Gilbert waited for what I'd say next.  But someone inside me shouted, and I ought to stop.

I looked at the nearby cottages. The lights were already off.

It's getting late, I said as I stood up. The sea breeze quietly touched my skin. It soothed.

Gilbert walked me home.  He was silent.  He was indeed a friend.  Because he was a stranger.

I didn't tell him my real name. 

Nor how I wrapped the jar.

  - o O o -