“No, I don’t want to talk about them. I don’t even want to think about them for every time I did, I stir the river bed. The debris safely gathered at the bottom churn up and its’ murkiness depress me like storm clouds on a sunny day. Then, I cannot get rid of their intruding images threading all over my brain. And my heart got acid burns. I want to forget them only sometimes I can’t.”
“So I learned to activate defense mechanisms. I had to or I would have gone insane by now or my heart would have been pounded to mash. I sleep if sleep can come. I exercise to wear me out. I keep myself busy so I don’t have to think. If these don’t help, I think of other things”.
As I speak, my mind wanders to the Fisherman of Snake Mouth. I turn to face Beth but she was no longer there. In her place, sits the Fisherman calmly smoking his pipe disregarding me.
Looking at him sitting there smoking contentedly, I feel a violent stab of envy. Sure, a person can be contented when he knew the person he loves love him in return. He can go to his grave with the smug feeling as if he had achieved something. I loved, and I was loved in return but they all eventually left me and I was left to ponder my failures. Why are my many loves not equal to his one? At this moment, I almost hate him. But I know it is not him I hate. My mind stray to what is fair and what is not. We are never fair to the one who loves us but appeals for fairness from the one whom we love.
The Fisherman could not sleep after leaving the girl that evening (September 2007 Post – “Once There Was A Hill”). He tossed and turned in his bed worrying about what will happen to her. He told himself it is not his business. The world is full of unfortunate people. They will survive, somehow. He had done all he could. But he still could not sleep. So he gave up, got up to look at the sea. That always calms him down. And there will be a full moon tonight.
He swung open the wooden door and as he stepped out, his leg kicked on something soft. He was shocked to see a figure curled up with the knees against the chest outside his door. His heart jumped when he realized it was the girl he rescued. She stirred, forced herself to sit up and looked at him with those unflinching eyes. Concern and pity overwhelmed him. She must be cold and hungry yet he said “You should not be here”. He wanted to invite her in but what would the neighbors think? While he hesitated, she stood up and walked into the house uninvited.
Not knowing what else to do, he followed her in. His chivalrous nature took over “Have you eaten?” She shook her head. He will deal with her after she had eaten. As he headed towards the kitchen, he heard a firm “No!” that stopped him in his track. She walked pass him and surveyed the kitchen cabinet. With deft fingers and a confidence of experience, she began several tasks at once, boiling water, slicing, cutting, seasoning. She was a delight to watch and for the first time in his life, he pondered what it is like to have such a woman for a wife. Before long, a pleasant aroma rose up to mix with the night air. He wondered what her cooking would taste like but was quite sure it would be delicious.
He watched her from the dining table. She carried out a large bowl of rice noodle with slices of fishes and some vegetables. “She must be really hungry. I will have to work harder and catch more fishes if I will to have a wife like this”, he thought.
(As I picture the scenes, I look over and catch a tiny smile that has stole its way up the lip of the Fisherman ghost though he pretends to act nonchalantly and continues his smoking.)
She sat opposite him and surprised him by placing the bowl of noodles in front of him. He had not expected her to cook for him. He looked at the appetizing meal but asked, “What about you?” She just shook her head. He swore he could hear the growling of her stomach. He started to push the bowl towards her but palm placed at the edge of the bowl stopped him. He was afraid to exert any further pressure fearing the hot soup will spilled and burned them both. He stood up and returned from the kitchen with another bowl. He poured half of the content into this bowl but instinctively leaved slightly more in his own. He placed the second bowl before her and in a serious voice, commanded “Eat!” Without looking up, he started eating. It tasted wonderful. He stole a look at her and was pleased that she was also eating her noodles too. They ate in silence, both lifting the bowl to drink every last drop of soup.
A sudden gush of wind slammed the door startling them. He went to secure it and smelt the dampness in the air. It was going to rain soon. That decided it. He could not be chasing her out in this weather. He went to his bedroom and came out with a spare blanket. She took it without a word, her face still solemn and defiant. He had analyzed her character, there is no reasoning with her; she is stubborn as a mule. He lifted the door curtain to his room and went to bed.
He laid there that night with a very strange feeling he never felt before. As he drifted off to sleep, his last thought was – what was he going to do with her tomorrow?
To be continued...
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