Dancing Through The Night

Chapter 11 - Cohen

Today is the first day that I feel slightly like myself again. The nausea disappeared late last week, the headaches over the weekend, and today with the sun shining, I feel energised. On top of that, nobody will question why I'm wearing a cap on my bold head.

I call Winston and grab his lead, but I don't bother putting it on. It's early and the beach is officially off-leash territory. For a moment my dog looks at me like he thinks I might be joking. He's been neglected over the past weeks, only Vicky and Jay taking him for occasional walks. My parents come by a few times per week, but taking Winston outside isn't on their list. Instead, my mother usually hogs over me, sometimes crying about the bad luck she has that her son has cancer. I don't want to complain. Mum brings me food to keep the fridge full, most of which Vicky has to throw out a few days later. Sometimes she takes it to her place before it goes off. If I had to go through chemo again, I wouldn't tell my parents. Knowing only caused them worry. Dad had already looked through my reports and treatment plan and got second and third opinions. The perks of being part of a family of medical specialists. There was nothing else they could do.

Walking along the beach, it feels like an eternity that my feet have last touched the ripples of the cool, wet sand, just where the waves have last reached the shore. With my flip flops in hand, Winston running excitedly through the shallow waves like a puppy, I watch a couple ahead, arm in arm, following their beagle. Catching myself stare at their backs makes me shake my head. I stopped staring out the window on the weekend. That is not me, just sitting, watching and thinking. I'm a doer. I do my own stuff. There's always something to do. To prove just that to myself, I pick up an old tennis ball someone must have lost and throw it for Winston, who more than eagerly runs after it. He just never brings back the balls. His game is chase. In a save distance he waits for me, daring me to attack. When I'm within arms reach he turns and runs. We'll be playing this game until one of us gets tired or Winston meets another dog. As I approach Winston again, he turns and runs again, but instead of running from me, he drops the ball and runs after the beagle. The couple ahead of me jump to the side as Winston chases past them and gets them all wet.

I wonder if dog walking girl ever comes here. I haven't seen her in the past few days, but then, I haven't been sitting at the window as much. The thought of her somehow sticks with me. In all those weeks I've never seen her with anyone, just her and that pug. Morning and evening. In the past two weeks I've sometimes seen her during the day. Maybe she's on holidays. I hope she didn't lose her job. The more I think about her, the more I realise how messed up I am. This has to stop. I need my life back, and so I decide to pick up where I left things. Brendan from the Lifesaving club is doing exercises further down the beach and so I decide to join him. It will take me a while to get back in shape, but I will.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

I missed sitting out here, watching over the people in the water. My first week back at work was fine, so was my check-up yesterday. But nothing beats this, weekends at the beach. There wasn't much to do yet. It's mostly calling people back between the flags. A young boy lost his parents for two minutes, or so he thought. His mum apparently had her eyes on him the entire time. It sort of pisses me off when parents just sit down on their towels while the kids are in the water. Yes, we're here for their safety, but we're not babysitters. Emergencies, that's our job.

"It burns, it burns," a chick in a barely there bikini cries, walking towards our tent. She's supported by her friends who wear the same hint of nothing. I'm guessing a bluebottle sting. Brendan nudges me from the side, pointing with his chin towards the girls. "There's our party for tonight." I give him a smile and nod. Pre-cancer, it would have been. Now, I'm not so sure. Soft fuzz of hair is beginning to sprout over my scalp. It looks ridiculous. So much that this ridiculous life-saving cap feels like a life-saver. Memories of that night before therapy starts flashing into my mind. The woman in her 20's swimming outfit. I took her cap off that night. She took off mine. There's no way I can let that happen. I don't mind people seeing me like that at home, but not in public, and not in bed with a girl.

All four girls start jabbering at the same time. Brendan tries to listen, asks questions. I don't need to. I've seen the sting on her stomach, right next to the butterfly tattoo. She's hot. So are her friends.
I hand her some ice and suggest she takes a shower up in the club house. From the corner of my eye I see her friend ogling me. A foreign feeling of discomfort overcomes me. I'm used to girls checking me out, but I have lost my form. My abs have been replaced by flat white skin, my biceps no more than a small bulge. I'm working on it, but it makes me wonder if I still look sick. It's strange, when you work in a hospital environment you get used to sick people. Usually I'm not involved in the patient doctor conversations, but we tell our patients not to worry about their appearance. And I mean that and believe that. It's just different when you are the patient.

"Can you show us where they are," the girl with the yellow sun glasses swoons. I don't hear what Brendan answers because I see dog walking girl. It's been at least three weeks that I have last seen her. At least I think it's her. Her back is to me, but I have come quite accustomed to her backside in jogging gear. A black bathing suit is sticking out under that short sun dress when she bends over to pick up a frisbee and throws it. She's beautiful, I realise again, and with the amount of time I have been thinking about her, I decide I'll ask her out for a drink. I'm just not sure if today is the right day. When she catches the frisbee again she walks towards two small boys. She points towards a group of towels where the three of them sit down and have a drink. She's got kids. Of course she's got kids. What was I thinking? The disappointment of this hits me harder then it should have. I'm surprised and annoyed that I even thought about asking her out, that I watched her for weeks on end.

While Brendan is showing the four girls to the showers, I try my best not to watch dog walking girl. It's hard. I catch myself over and over again glancing in her direction. She's still playing with her kids, but no man in sight. I don't know her story, but what an idiot to have such a gorgeous woman and not to join her on walks or at the beach. When she walks up to the promenade where the ice cream truck is parked I remind myself that I'm here to watch the swimmers, not her. I had my time watching her.

We get another blue bottle sting, and that keeps my mind off dog-walking mum. Unfortunately, it doesn't last long and I spot her sitting back on the towels with their ice creams, building a sandcastle. Maybe her husband isn't so bad. Vicky never had any energy left for Jayden. She'd watch him, but only started playing with him after her divorce. Her dumbass husband had sucked every bit of energy out of her. Maybe dog walking woman is divorced. Whatever. Kids, that's not a territory I'm ready for. I let my gaze run over the beach again. When I'm back in my obsessions direction, another woman in shorts and a t-shirt is joining them, toddler in arm. The boys surround her and show her the sandcastle. I'm confused, unable to read the situation. Half an hour or so later, the new woman packs some of the bags, all the kids and leaves. Dog walking woman stays back, alone. The way my heart skips when I realise that I still have a chance to ask her out catches me completely off guard. I'll be on duty for another hour. That is one hour of coming up with a good line, if she's still here. It's usually not that hard. Maybe I should wait until my hair is grown back. But it doesn't get to that. The cute, dog walking woman, who doesn't seem to have two sons, takes off her dress to reveal a black bikini. Not one that shows everything, but one of those classic sexy ones. That's not what strikes me tough. Between her bikini top and bottom bulges the smallest curve of a belly. Small, but still unmistakably pregnant. I've seen enough of those on the operating table at all stages. I guess I'll be going home after my shift, alone. Or maybe I'll join Brendan and the four girls after all. The cap is going to stay on though.