Monday: Writing

As I approached the small dock, I noticed a small sailboat anchored and tethered to it.

He set a small wooden crate of books on the deck.

I was confused. And more urgently, I was frightened. "What are you doing? Where are you going?"

"I can't stay here."

It was as I had feared, but I was no less desperate when confronted with the inevitable. I grabbed his arm as he bent to hoist the anchor.

"You can't go!"

He sighed and avoided my eyes. "But I can't stay either."

"Please don't go. Please don't leave me."

He pulled away and his voice cracked as he said, "Liz, please don't make this any harder than it already is." He trembled.

Though it was sunny on the beach, the horizon faded into an ominous darkness. "There's isn't even anywhere to go to."

"Liz, I have to go." The little boat bobbed in the waves. To himself he repeated, "I have to go." He grabbed the anchor rope again. I pulled it away from him and we engaged in a tug-of-war.

I heaved. "No!"

He did not yank but he did not yield. "Don't do this, Liz, please don't do it."

The tears were suddenly in my eyes. "You can't fucking leave me, you hear that? You can't fucking leave me!" I screamed even though he was close to me. I was somehow falling away.

"Liz...." A sob strangled his voice and left it weak.

"I already let you go, I already set you free, why can't you just stay? Why can't you just stay here with me?"

"I've got to read my books and I've got to sail my ocean. I have to know what's out there."

"But you already know everything here. And I'm here, and we can just be here and it will be okay."

"It won't Liz, it won't. Neither of us can really stay here, but I have to go now. You should go too. This place...it's cursed."

"But what will I do? Where will I go?"

"You know there's a road over the dunes. Go ride it, find where it goes."

"How? How can you expect me to do that?"

"With your bicycle."

"Come with me, please come with me."

"I can't. My bike's broken. The chainring is bent."

"Well fix it!"

"I have to go find a bike shop. There aren't any here. Maybe there's one out there." He gestured with his shoulder to the sighing water.

I yanked on the rope. "No!"

He yanked harder. The rope burned my palms as it lurched out of my hands.

The waves rocked harder, splashing against the dock and sending up a spray.

"No! No no no no!"

He choked. "Liz, please...."

I fell to my knees on the dock. "Are you going to come back? You have to come back!"

"I don't know. I can't say for sure. I don't know what I will find out there."

"But what about everything? What will happen to it?"

"I have it all right here." He patted a small wooden intricately-illustrated cigar box.

"What if you lose it?"

"I'll never lose it." He meant it. "I'll never lose this box and the things inside of it. I may lose my eyesight, I may lose my sail, I may even lose my way, but I will never lose this."

"Never?"

He said, "Never."

"Do you want to come back here? One day?"

"In some ways I do. But I may lose the map, or may have to sell the boat for food."

I looked down. I'd been defeated from the moment we engaged and I had known it all along.

"Be safe out there. Will you write me letters?"

"If I can find a mailbox."

"I don't want to say good-bye."

"Then don't."

He took up the anchor. The boat immediately drifted away. He unfurled the sail and it snapped to attention in the wind.

I watched as he waved to me. I blew him a kiss, but he had turned away.

I walked to the road, where I had locked my bike to a signpost.

Writing July 13 2009



(Yeah, sorry for the recent juvenile reliance on music to express my feelings, but Pandora played this one for me today and I caught the lyrics through the drone of work. Not only is the song catchy, it expresses an atypical sentiment which strikes a chord in Yours Truly, and the video reminds me of some eighties fantasy film, an aesthetic I enjoy.)