school.”
“Are you sure you want to sell it?’
“Oh yes. If I have more babies, I make more for them.”
*
On the beach where Izak had dropped them off, a man with a camel stood at the water’s edge. A pleasure boat had anchored in the cove and a group of tourists was coming toward shore in a dinghy. Much further out in the cove, Lilly could see the shape of the Ozymandias , its blue and white sides handsome against the cliffs, its sails furled tightly.
She sat down on the sand in the shade of a tree and watched as children climbed from the dinghy and ran toward the camel. In a moment the man was commanding the camel to kneel, placing a child on its back, and proudly smiling for a photograph as the father of one of the children snapped a picture of owner, camel and its rider. Money was exchanged. Another child climbed on the camel’s back.
The camel’s owner happily posed for pictures for the next twenty minutes as Lilly watched. She inhaled a sweet evocative scent from the open bag in which the baby bunting lay, and, as she breathed again, she recognized it as baby powder, as if the child’s scent were still imbued in the fabric of the cloth.
She lay back in the sand, bunching the baby bunting in its paper bag under her head, and closed her eyes. She felt the warm breeze on her face, heard the lapping of the water on the pebbles and shells of the shore. The sand conformed to the shape of her body; she knew she was falling asleep and she gave herself over to it. What a relief it was, to enter darkness and gain peace from the dancing of her mind. Stillness overtook her.
*
“Lilly.” A voice in her ear. “Lilly.”
“I’m coming,” she said. When she opened her eyes she saw Izak kneeling over her, his face above hers.
“Is it time to go already? Where are the others? Did you just come in the Zodiac?”
“The others are not here yet. I have been to the Turkish bath.”
“ You have been there?”
“Yes, an hour ago.”
“You weren’t on the boat?”
“No,” he said. “I have been here in the town to buy new blankets for the boat, and two pillows Harrison wanted for his bed. Down, from the farmer’s goose feathers.”
“Who is on the boat?”
“Morat stayed. Barish stayed.”
“And Marianne?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see.”
Lilly bowed her head. She put her fingers in the sand.
“Marianne not kind to you, not kind to me,” Izak said.
“No, not kind,” Lilly echoed his words.
“We don’t worry,” he said. “No problem for us.”
“No,” Lilly said. “Not for us.”
“Our problem,” said Izak, “is big ocean between our countries.”
“Yes,” she said. “Between our worlds.”
“What is there to do?” Izak said. “I think about this.”
“I think also,” Lilly said.
He sat beside her on the sand and put his hand between them where she was letting the smooth grains run between her fingers. He stopped her from doing this by closing her fingers under his strong hand.
“We both think about this,” he said. “And no answers come.”
WHIRLING DERVISH
As Barish helped Lilly up the ladder from the Zodiac to the solid wooden deck of the Ozymandias , a strange vision met her eyes. On the foredeck, Marianne, dressed in the garb of a Whirling Dervish (the white bell-like skirt, the long-sleeved white shirt, the conical hat with the squared top) was spinning slowly in a counter-clockwise direction. She held one palm downward and one facing upward toward the sky. Music came from a tape player balanced on one of the kayaks, plugged by a long cord into an outlet under the wheel of the boat.
Though Marianne must have heard the Zodiac arriving, heard the high-pitched voice of Gerta, the hearty laugh of Harrison, she gave no sign of recognition of their arrival, but continued to spin to a low, rhythmic chant accompanied by the hypnotic music of zither, flute and drums. Her eyes were half-closed; she seemed oblivious to all sounds and movements. She did not
“Are you sure you want to sell it?’
“Oh yes. If I have more babies, I make more for them.”
*
On the beach where Izak had dropped them off, a man with a camel stood at the water’s edge. A pleasure boat had anchored in the cove and a group of tourists was coming toward shore in a dinghy. Much further out in the cove, Lilly could see the shape of the Ozymandias , its blue and white sides handsome against the cliffs, its sails furled tightly.
She sat down on the sand in the shade of a tree and watched as children climbed from the dinghy and ran toward the camel. In a moment the man was commanding the camel to kneel, placing a child on its back, and proudly smiling for a photograph as the father of one of the children snapped a picture of owner, camel and its rider. Money was exchanged. Another child climbed on the camel’s back.
The camel’s owner happily posed for pictures for the next twenty minutes as Lilly watched. She inhaled a sweet evocative scent from the open bag in which the baby bunting lay, and, as she breathed again, she recognized it as baby powder, as if the child’s scent were still imbued in the fabric of the cloth.
She lay back in the sand, bunching the baby bunting in its paper bag under her head, and closed her eyes. She felt the warm breeze on her face, heard the lapping of the water on the pebbles and shells of the shore. The sand conformed to the shape of her body; she knew she was falling asleep and she gave herself over to it. What a relief it was, to enter darkness and gain peace from the dancing of her mind. Stillness overtook her.
*
“Lilly.” A voice in her ear. “Lilly.”
“I’m coming,” she said. When she opened her eyes she saw Izak kneeling over her, his face above hers.
“Is it time to go already? Where are the others? Did you just come in the Zodiac?”
“The others are not here yet. I have been to the Turkish bath.”
“ You have been there?”
“Yes, an hour ago.”
“You weren’t on the boat?”
“No,” he said. “I have been here in the town to buy new blankets for the boat, and two pillows Harrison wanted for his bed. Down, from the farmer’s goose feathers.”
“Who is on the boat?”
“Morat stayed. Barish stayed.”
“And Marianne?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see.”
Lilly bowed her head. She put her fingers in the sand.
“Marianne not kind to you, not kind to me,” Izak said.
“No, not kind,” Lilly echoed his words.
“We don’t worry,” he said. “No problem for us.”
“No,” Lilly said. “Not for us.”
“Our problem,” said Izak, “is big ocean between our countries.”
“Yes,” she said. “Between our worlds.”
“What is there to do?” Izak said. “I think about this.”
“I think also,” Lilly said.
He sat beside her on the sand and put his hand between them where she was letting the smooth grains run between her fingers. He stopped her from doing this by closing her fingers under his strong hand.
“We both think about this,” he said. “And no answers come.”
WHIRLING DERVISH
As Barish helped Lilly up the ladder from the Zodiac to the solid wooden deck of the Ozymandias , a strange vision met her eyes. On the foredeck, Marianne, dressed in the garb of a Whirling Dervish (the white bell-like skirt, the long-sleeved white shirt, the conical hat with the squared top) was spinning slowly in a counter-clockwise direction. She held one palm downward and one facing upward toward the sky. Music came from a tape player balanced on one of the kayaks, plugged by a long cord into an outlet under the wheel of the boat.
Though Marianne must have heard the Zodiac arriving, heard the high-pitched voice of Gerta, the hearty laugh of Harrison, she gave no sign of recognition of their arrival, but continued to spin to a low, rhythmic chant accompanied by the hypnotic music of zither, flute and drums. Her eyes were half-closed; she seemed oblivious to all sounds and movements. She did not
Similar Books
