He looked out the window at the countryside scenery of padi fields and duck farms as the train laboriously chugged along the metal track grinding and groaning on its reluctant journey. Acres of static greens, instead of endless spread of turbulent blues. The swirling clouds dancing on the clear blue over land told him a different tale than when they were over the sea. It was a tale he could not decipher. But land did not seem so fearful, so far. Maybe, it was because she was with him.
He turned to look at her gentle feature lost in troubled thoughts. The firm pursing of her lips and the intense focusing gave her a stern expression. At that moment of weakness, he said softly “Yes, I will marry you”.
She was jolted and turned to him with a surprised and shocked expression, her guards completely down. At that moment, he glimpsed another hint of the vulnerability that was so carefully shielded.
“I’ll marry you if it is the only way to solve your problem. But we do not have to stay married when it is done. I’ll marry you in name but you will still be a free woman.” Those words did not come easy but they are words he wanted to say and he was amazed at his courage for saying them. It was liberating. But there were more waiting, he will have to force them out.
Her intensity dissipated. Replaced by a tenderness that melted his heart. Her eyes were like a waning moon on a misty night reflected upon a serene lake. And it watered. It sought to convey gratitude that no words could express.
That gave him the encouragement to say what he really wanted to. “But I hope to marry you because we love each other. I know I can, no. I already do love you.” As a fisherman, he was often called to make instant decisions which could decide the outcome of a catch or the safety of his crew and even in matters of life and death. For the most crucial needs, he relied on his guts instinct and he had never been wrong where it really mattered. His instinct told him more convincingly than his heart that he had fallen in love. “I’ll wait for you, to love me. But you do not have to wait if you do not want to. You can leave whenever it suits you.” These however were not words he wanted to say but he had to. As a gentleman whom he felt he is, he is compelled to. It did not make him feel more generous. If anything, it made him feel silly for surely such this she could decide for herself without any suggestions from him.
To his surprise, she covered her face with her hands and started to sob. Silent but violent sobs that shook her body, letting out whatever she had bottled inside her little frame. She lowered her head keeping her face hidden as if in shame. It was painful to see. He hesitated but then rested his hand on one shoulder to console her. It was warm to his touch though he had kept his hand almost just floating above her skin. After a few seconds, he rested it more firmly and then gripped it communicating to her, he was sharing her pain. Amid her sobs, he heard her weak, broken voice “I’m sorry. To put you through this. I’m truly sorry.” And he knew then she did not love him, yet.
This realization strangely gave him a boost. He gently pulled her over and she rested her head on his shoulder. That was how she fell asleep as the train cut through the land taking them to a place he had never been or ever thought of going. He thought about how his crew will be waiting for him in the jetty this morning and felt guilty. They will go to his house and found it empty. There will be a buzz this morning as people looked for him and the dilemma his crew will be facing on whether to take the boat out to fish without him or to continue to wait. And later that evening, the whole village would be in an upheaval. He hoped someone would go into the house and found that hastily written note that said he had to be away for a few days on urgent business and the speculation that came with it. What was that, that took him away? The visualization unsettled him and troubled him for causing the people who cared for him so much worry. But as he felt her stirred against his body, there was no doubt in him that he did the right thing.
Her head was heavy and his arm was going numb from the pressure but he tried to keep as still as possible in spite of the uncomfortable position. His mind wandered back to last night when she entreated him to follow her back to the village for her to do something she had to do. What it was she could not tell but it was very important to her. After which, she would be free and she promised to be a good wife and served him well the rest of her life. He was somewhat offended. Did she take him to be the type of man who will accept such kind of bargain? To her, it may be an honorable way of settling a debt. But how much difference is there between her proposal and those of the lady of the night for didn’t they both offer to sell themselves for money irrespective of how worthy or urgent the cause? A sale is still a sale irrespective of whether it is to one customer or many customers. He knew actually there are many subtle differences; he knew questioning it this way is unfair to her. But he could not help it. Maybe, he was secretly angry to be put in such a situation where there can be no win for him. Or was he angry that he was been made use of because he is a good man. The fact she did it reluctantly and that her need was so great that she has no choice only assuage his unhappiness somewhat. But he is not one to dwell over this type of conflict for long, same as he is not one to push aside thoughts when they came up. He let them have their said and them let the sea breeze blew them away.
Only now the wind that blew was from the land. They had a different smell. Sometimes of damp earth, others of dusty roads or polluted towns. Each minute, the train was taking him further away from the sea and he now began to feel a certain longing slowly starting to assert itself. But he liked looking at those leathery skin water buffaloes with those ridiculously large horns casually walking in the mud occasionally flipping its tail. He also liked the view of the mass of white ducks that stood out in great contrast with the dirty ponds. And when suddenly for no reason, one duck scrambled away in a half swimming, half flying rush; all the others quickly followed in a blind panic. Suddenly, the thought hit him. If she were to ask him to stay with her on land far away from the sea, how would he answer? Would he choose her or the sea? He was seized with a panic himself for he knew that is a choice that he will regret whichever way he chose. Is this always going to be the way with her? Difficult choices?
She woke up. Sat up straight, straighten her shirt. There was a dash of color on her cheek. Was that a blush?
“You are a good man.”
“I tried to be” he replied matter of fact.
She was about to speak, then checked herself. Yes, he thought. No apologies please. It would get tiresome if repeated throughout the whole journey. Instead, she took on the role of a guide explaining in detail the towns and places they passed through. Her voice low but clear with great confidence as she explained the geography, history and culture of the places they passed through with the authority of a researcher. He was amazed at her knowledge and listened rapt with attention as she cleverly spun in anecdotes with facts to make the tales engrossing. She seemed even more in element than when she was in the kitchen. And when she quoted poetry, doubts began to seep in. She must have read the worries written on his face for she asked “What is wrong?”
“I did not know that you’re so well educated.”
She was so caught up with her tale that she did not realized that she had exposed herself. She would not want him to feel insecure in any way so she reach out and hold the hand closest to her. He almost made an involuntary withdrawal on first touch before her hand caught his and held on to it. He looked at her soft smooth hand holding to his hard coarse one. This did not dispel his doubt but he liked the feel, so his fingers closed in on hers. How many more surprises was she hiding?
“I’m not well educated, just had a little bit of education. It only appear impressive to…” she quickly changed the subject by directing his attention to a passing sight. He was not fooled “To a country bumpkin? Was that what you were going to say?” He thought but did not let on what he was thinking.
“This is not going well. What can I do?” she pondered when he surprised her by saying “I enjoyed your stories; please continue telling them the way you did.” She looked at him. She smiled and thought. “You are not a regular chap, are you?”
She enjoyed herself telling and sharing stories with him all the way. He was an attentive and intelligent listener asking questions that was challenging, delighting her in seeking for the answers and sometimes offering his thoughts on it as well. She had not expected to find herself enjoying such a stimulating conversation with a fisherman. She was not a snob but had confused intelligent and wisdom with education as young people tends to do. “He is more intelligent than many of my classmates.” The thought somehow pleased her, a lot. Now that the ice has been broken, she used more poetry and proverbs in her conversation and he seemed genuinely interested and asked her to explain the meanings. And when he questioned the ways some metaphors were used, his naivety and puzzlement caused her to laugh. At other times, he showed a surprisingly quick grasp of difficult concept and complex association. And even offer his comparison with life in the village and of the sea. He was not shy to disagree with the ideas of poets. All this she found to be stimulating and even enlightening. Before the end of the journey, the thought did occur to her that the idea of living with this man may not be as great a sacrifice as she originally thought.
She had secretly wished that this train journey could go on forever. She had not been this carefree for such a long time. But the train pulled up with a screeching stop to their destination and she was slammed hard against her waiting troubles.
To be continued...
