Not yet fifty and single again - J

Dinner

I see that she has changed from her dancing clothes, usually black yoga-pants that look good on her. But she makes the dress she is wearing now look even better. Elegant and simple, black, sleeveless. To my own annoyance I get shy. I am so useless. When I tell her she looks nice, it sounds so stupid and silly. Again, I feel like a sixteen-year-old…I can’t help it, it is simply the effect she has on me. 

I open the door for her, and L gets in the car. I close the door, walk around the car and start the engine. I suddenly realize, I haven’t even thought about where we will go! “Great job”, I tell myself, now what?  
 “You know, I haven’t even thought about where to go”, I decide to tell her. “But there’s plenty of choice if we go a bit further out in town, near the harbour. Do you eat fish?”
“Yes, I love it, if its fresh. But all is good for me. I let you choose J. Surprise me!”, she says with a laugh, probably having noticed my previous shyness and clumsiness. 

I decide to drive to the harbour. There are lots of good fish restaurants. Fresh from the ocean. Local fishermen come early mornings and evenings to sell their daily catch directly to the restaurants. You can choose the fish you want from a cooler-box filled with ice. They get grilled on coal, and spicy sauce is added. It’s delicious.   

We leave the gate of the dorm, and L asks if she can put some of her music on. A friend had sent it to her, and she wants me to listen to it. I like it. As we drive, the car fills with great beats and lyrics that make us both laugh.  
After a short while we enter the harbour area. It is brightly lit, and the harbour is filled with big ships, carrying cargo, delivering goods from and to all the hundreds of islands that constitute this country. The ocean is the main highway. A ferry boat is ready to leave. It’s three storey decks are filled with passengers, enjoying the cool evening breeze and waving goodbyes to friends and family on shore. It all looks pretty chaotic, and it probably is, but seeing these scenes make me happy to live here. Smiles and shouts are plentiful. The ferry’s horns blow loud, and its engines stir up the water. As we are waiting for a red light, L and I are intrigued by this scene. 

“I would love to take a trip on one of these boats”, she says. “It must be fun, spending the evening on deck, see the stars at night and the sun come up in the morning over the islands”. 
“Let’s do it then”, I answer. I said it before even realizing I was going to say it. 
“Yes, when?”, L asks
“Whenever you have time”, I answer. “I know a nice place to go to, it will take us two days on the boat. We can stay there, go around the island, chill on the beaches and eat coconut! Sleep on the beach and then after a few days, back on the boat. What do you think?”
“That sounds great! We bring some hammocks, look at the stars at night.” 

What else is there to say? I stay silent, and happy. She sees it and laughs loud. 
I continue to the restaurants, park the car and we pick a place built over the water. Wooden floors, supported by concrete pillars. The floor creaks when we walk over it. Wooden tables, with bright red and pink plastic table covers. We sit at one of the tables next to the water. The lights from the ships shine over the water, making long traces. We can hear the noises from the harbour, the city. But its not too loud. It makes a nice addition to the tunes on the sound-system. 

L takes a deep breath and looks at me. “Thank you for bringing me here”, she says, “it looks great. Now, where do we get the fish?”
We go over to the cooler-box. She takes her time, as the owner takes out the various fish. I don’t know all the names but recognize the colours. Red, grey and dotted with yellow fins. Yellow vin tuna is probably the only name I remember, if its right at all. She picks one of the red ones and asks it to be prepared spicy. I tell her that spicy here is very spicy. It becomes medium. For me, I take the same.

We order fruit juices. One of the blessings of living here is the abundance of delicious fruits, and the juices that are made from it. Although it is nice to have a wine at dinner, or a cold beer, I don’t really miss it here as there are so many exotic alternatives. While waiting for our drinks and food, we talk about her day. She tells me about the dance she is now making with her students. They will need to build a stage, as it is set in a building and the objects will be used in the dance, and the dance will evolve around them. Her students find this strange and at first did not understand the point. But as she sketched it out to them, and explained the story line of the dance, they liked it and immediately started helping to work it out. 

I listen with interest and enjoy her talking about her art, seeing her passion for it and how it moves her. 
I avoid talking about my day. When she asks me about it, I tell her that I have been busy, but nothing really coming near as interesting to her day and I prefer to listen to her. She looks at me with questioning eyes, her head slightly tilted to the side, as if noticing I am keeping something back. She stays silent for a few seconds, and then leaves it at that, saying “When you want to talk about it, you will tell me I trust.” I like that. 

The food arrives, and we eat. She enjoys the fish. Medium spicy is actually not that medium, and her face turns slightly red. We both laugh as we are sweating our way through our meal. We order more juice as we need to blush the fire in our mouth and body. It is delicious and after dinner, I ask for coffee, and L prefers tea.

“So”, L says while they are preparing our drinks, “you said that you wanted to tell me a story. And I would love to hear it.”

I look at her, observing her eyes and everything I think I can see in them. I wait for the coffee and tea to be served. Once this is done, I start.  

“This is a story about love” I say. “This is a story about murder. Are you ready for it?” I ask. 
“I am” she says.