In This Life

by Christine Brae

  “Go Blue!” Jude exclaimed, as he ran back into the bedroom and retrieved his phone. He scrolled through it and picked out a hip hop song by will.i.am. Despite the weight of the rain, we jumped and twirled, his hands on my waist, my head thrown back. We swerved left and right, moving in unison. We bounced up and down, our bodies touching, his hands on me, my hands in my hair. Not once did he remove his eyes from mine as we mouthed the words to the song.

  Look up in the mirror

  The mirror look at me

  The mirror be like baby you the shit

  God dammit you the shit

  Drenched, we danced away our worries and fears. There was no need for reasons, no need for confessions.

  They say that love is found in the darkest of moments, when you’re lost and alone, in desperate search of answers. But that night, we found love in merriment and joy. We danced until the clouds had passed and our clothes were dry, we played backgammon into the wee hours of the morning, and slept side by side on the floor. There was no need to define who we were to each other. We were young and alive, and the future looked bright.

  “BLUE, DO YOU believe in fate?” Jude asked as we floated along the water in two old tires that we’d picked up from the Sunday market. They were tied securely to the bamboo posts that supported the hut to ensure that we didn’t get carried away by the current. Earlier, we had talked about how we should be spending our last week at the mission. “Do you think we were meant to meet, to spend time together, despite the fact that in the end, we have to go our separate ways?”

  The moon was so bright and the water was as clear as glass. I could see the little fish swimming underneath my toes. Yellow spotted boxfish and blue tangs blended in with the orange anemones, flitting harmlessly in and out of the corals on the ocean floor. Jude held a flashlight in his hands and shone it on the surface, allowing us to watch the fish go back and forth as he teased them with the light. We were in shallow water, merely chest deep, and so we felt safe and secure in our own private corner of the sea.

  Separate ways. It made me sad to hear these words from him. Soon, the inevitable day would arrive and he would be nothing more than the friend I met in Thailand.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I answered. “If God has a plan for everyone, then what good is prayer? Wouldn’t prayer be useless? I mean, assuming people did pray.” Bedtime prayers were a huge deal with my mother when I was younger. Not anymore.

  He laughed as he reached out for my tire and linked it firmly with his. We faced each other, our feet dangling in opposite directions.

  “You tend to over think things,” he said. “Fate has nothing to do with prayer, Blue. Prayer keeps you in check and gives you the blessings that you need to live out your fate.”

  “Okay, but if you prayed for God to change things, they wouldn’t change anyway.” I tried to push away from him, but he held on to the rope that drooped in the water.

  “But He can give you strength, acceptance, peace.”

  “And so what happens to choice if everything in life is your fate?” I spun around in a circle until he reluctantly let go of me.

  “Fate leads to choice and choice leads to your fate,” he clarified. There was no compromise with this guy. “Think multiple choice. There’s only one answer, and if you continue to choose the wrong one, you’ll keep trying until you get the right one.”

  “What? You just confirmed that prayers don’t work,” I said as I pushed away from him and drifted as I far as I could go. I continued to state my case. “There was this time in fourth grade when I was being bullied for my red hair. One day, I knew that the girls in this group were looking for me. They heard that my dad had brought me these really cool wooden pens from his trip to China, and they wanted me to hand them over. I hid in the bathroom and prayed with all my might that they wouldn’t find me, but they did. And they took my pens, roughed me up, and made fun of my hair. My mom pulled me out of the school the very next day and placed me in a new one.”

  “Now why,” he began, “why in the world would they tease you about your hair? It’s the most striking feature about you. Okay, along with your eyes and your nose and your mouth,” he said gently, while trying unsuccessfully to reach out for me. The light sweep of the current was too quick for him.

  “Smooth talking will get you everywhere,” I joked, allowing myself to drift.

  “Do you think that what happened has played a part in the reason why you’re so strong and so driven?” He placed the flashlight between his legs and used his hands to paddle closer to me. I thought it was adorable, the way we drifted together and came apart.

  “I guess,” I said. “So what you’re saying is that I had to be bullied in order to get transferred to my new school? Because that new school was where I spent the happiest days of my life. I met Maggie there.”

  “You met her in grade school?” he asked.

  “Yup. Dodgeball. Some idiot hit me on the head with the ball and took me down. The ball bounced off my big head and smacked Maggie on the same spot as she stood on the sidelines flirting with a boy. We ended up in the nurse’s clinic, side by side on two stretchers.” I smiled with fond remembrance.

  “What happened to the idiot?”

  “He became my best friend.”

  “No kidding?!” He laughed. “You see? I really think things happen for a reason,” he said, pulling me to him so that we held hands. In fact, I clasped my fingers around his because I didn’t want to float away. There was nowhere else in the world I wanted to be.

  He tugged on the rope as we glided closer to the hut. “For example, do you ever wonder how come you run into so many people day in and day out and only a handful of them remain permanently in your life?”

  “No,” I joked. “I don’t sit there and do a play-by-play of everyone I meet.” Which is why this is so unlike me, Jude.

  “So,” he asked, with sincere interest, “Dante was a childhood friend? He seems so cavalier to have been friends with you for so long.”

  “No. He never really paid attention to me until our freshman year of college. We were in Spanish class together. We made fun of the same people, liked the same movies, worked in a group together. We love the same style of clothes, shop at the same stores… and he’s been the most patient, loyal friend I could ever have since then.”

  “Did you guys ever, you know, hook up?”

  “What? No!” I objected. “I’ve told you before, we’re best friends. Besides, we’re too alike. But enough about me. What about you? Who’s your best friend?”

  “A guy named Peter. We’re not exactly the same, though. He’s a ladies man. And very laid back. Sooo… boyfriends. What about your boyfriends?” he asked.

  “If you’re doing this so that I ask about your girlfriend, no deal, Gray. I don’t want to know about her.” I kicked his tire away from me and giggled as he blanched from the sting of the saltwater in his eyes.

  “Why do you keep pushing me away? I asked you a question, Blue.” He grabbed my foot and used it to pull himself close to me again.

  “Fine. No boyfriends, none. Lots of flings, but nothing serious. I was too busy in school.”

  Suddenly, he slid me towards him until we were face to face, our tires rubbing against each other like bumper cars in an amusement park. He tipped himself forward and jumped into the water between my legs. I slipped my legs inside the tire and held my arms up so that he could lift it off me.

  “Blue,” he sighed, “I wish things were different.” The luster in his eyes was gone.

  I rested my head on his chest as he clasped his hands together behind my back. There was nothing else for me to say. I too wished that everything was different, and yet I hoped that things would stay the same. I needed my mother at that very moment. I wanted to tell her that I understood. I wanted to ask her about these feelings. I wanted her to confirm whether this was love.

  I lifted my head up to catch his lips slightly parted. “I have to call my mom,” I said.

  He ackn
owledged the loss of the moment. “Sure. Let’s get back inside and you can use my phone,” he replied, continuing to hold me close while smoothing his hands over my hair.

  “Gray?”

  “Hmm?” he answered dreamily.

  “I’m a little freaked out. There’s something rubbing against my leg.”

  He lifted me up gently, turning the flashlight back on and handing it over to me. I settled my feet lightly in the sand, afraid to step on something I couldn’t see. He guided my hand and held the light a few inches above the water.

  “Look,” he said excitedly. “They’re seahorses.” He reached his hands down just below the surface, enclosing them in the palms of his hands.

  “Cool! Why are they tangled up with each other like that?”

  “It’s their defense mechanism. Do you see how the male with the pouch is hanging on to her tail? He’s protecting her.”

  I brought my face closer to the water.

  “Hey, do you know what they say about seahorses?” Jude asked.

  “No, but I know you’re about to tell me,” I teased.

  “That they mate for life. One mate. One partner. For life.” He emphasized this fact.

  “That’s just a myth. Nothing, no one, mates for life.”

  “WHERE’VE YOU BEEN, slowpoke? We were supposed to meet thirty minutes ago! I already found ten things for us to take home and was just waiting to see what you thought!” I greeted Dante with a kiss on the cheek. We’d arranged to meet at the open market to find some last minute souvenirs for our family back home.

  He placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “Spark. Let’s get out of this crowd for a while and talk.” There was a tremor in his voice.

  “What? What’s wrong? Did you have a fight with Milena? Or Paulina?” I teased.

  He shook his head sadly. “You need to call your dad,” he said as he handed me his phone. “Now.”

  The moment I snatched the phone from him, it vibrated in my hand. I guess he couldn’t wait for me to call back.

  “Dad?” I answered after one ring. She was foremost on my mind. “Are you going to be seeing Mom today? Tell her I found the perfect complement to the large rock in the garden.”

  Dante took charge and pulled me out of the crowd into a secluded area behind one of the larger stalls.

  “Annie,” my dad’s voice cracked. “I’m so sorry, she’s gone.”

  I dug the phone into my ear to make sure that I heard him clearly. “Gone? What do you mean? Where’d she go, Dad? Did she leave the hospital? For where?”

  “She never came out of surgery,” he cried. “She’s gone. Gone!” He exhaled loudly to compose himself. “Come home, Annie. Please come home.”

  The phone slipped from my hand on the muddy ground, stealing the world from underneath my feet, leaving me with nothing but tears. By the time Dante wiped off his phone, I was dashing through the crowd, going against traffic, unsure about my destination but certain that I had to get away.

  “Spark!” Dante shoved everyone in his way to get to me.

  I could only think about the previous night’s phone call to my mother. Things didn’t work out the way I had planned. When my call was met by a male voice on the line, I was taken aback. Her lover was a living, breathing being, with a heart, a soul, and a voice. I hung up the phone and gave it back to Jude.

  I tried to push Dante back. “I have to go. Please!”

  “Anna, no. I’m here. Let me stay with you,” he pleaded. The comforting crush of his body managed to soothe my pain.

  “No, I’ll be okay,” I said, shaking my head. “Will you help me get my tickets, please?”

  He nodded his head and watched me walk away.

  I had to find Jude. I needed to inhale the fresh air he brought into my life before I suffocated to death.

  Death.

  An irony, wasn’t it? I’d been surrounded by it every day I’d been here, and now it had touched me from afar. All the way from the other side of the world, when I should have been buried deep in it here, holding it in my arms, begging it for forgiveness. I ran aimlessly through the village, past wooden huts and stone houses, past the squalor I had managed to overlook for two weeks.

  I couldn’t find him. The one who could comfort me. Jude was gone. And in a few hours, I’d be gone.

  For the past few nights, we’d been inseparable. While our days were spent in service to others, we selfishly guarded the privacy of our evenings in the hut that was our temporary home. We talked endlessly about our lives, our goals, our hopes and dreams. We shared the fears we had about what was waiting for us back home. We eased the burden of our inevitable departure by living in the moment, and we sought relief in the fact that forever was nowhere in the picture. That tomorrow was something that didn’t need to be discussed.

  I never asked him any specifics about his future. I figured it was too late. Goals without plans are just wishes. All we had were wishes. Our goals and our plans would never intersect.

  There was no way that I could leave without saying goodbye.

  And so I kept searching, pacing along the shore, sinking deep into my sadness. My legs felt like lead. With every step an effort, I decided to give in. Maybe if I allowed this sinkhole to swallow me, I wouldn’t have to face anything. I dropped to my knees, my face in my hands, and the sound that emerged from my throat was unknown. I keened, I wailed, I let it all out. I’d lost my mother, and my future would be filled with regret.

  “Oh my God. Blue?” Jude dashed up behind me and covered me with his body. “What happened?” I could see that he’d been out running. His hair and shirt were soaked with sweat and his breathlessness told me that he had finished his run with a sprint.

  “She’s gone! She left me! I was going to tell her that there was nothing for me to forgive! That I loved her no matter what!” I wasn’t sure whether he truly understood what I was saying. I heard my thoughts but not my words. They were buried against his chest, and his heart absorbed all my sadness. “It’s too late. I’m being punished for my selfishness. I should’ve called her sooner, I should’ve gone home. I’m never going to see her again.”

  “Shh. No, no. It’s not like that,” he whispered gently as he stroked my hair and held my face. “She was sick, Blue. And now she has her peace.” His voice, although soft, was marked by certainty. “Come on, let’s take you home.”

  “I have to leave in the morning,” I said, gazing up at him. His eyes were filled with consolation.

  “I know. It’s okay.” He lightly brushed his thumbs across my cheeks to wipe away my tears before settling my head in the crook of his neck. The silence of the night was louder than it had ever been, and I could hear the thunder in the background; the impending storm had finally arrived.

  He stood up slowly and bent down to scoop me in his arms, lifting me up to carry me. “I’ll take you home. You need to rest. You’re going on a long trip tomorrow.”

  “No, please. I want to stay with you. Can you please let Dante know? Let him know I’m with you so he won’t worry.” My voice vibrated through his skin, and I inhaled the sweet, intoxicating smell of sweat and saltwater. I couldn’t bear to think that after tomorrow, my life would go on without him in it.

  He nodded and used one hand to punch in a text message on his phone, the other arm still holding me up with ease, refusing to let me go. He took a few slow steps towards our make believe palace, the wooden hut at the end of the world, high above the water, almost touching the clouds. The sound of his flip-flops dredging through the sand ended at the bottom of the ladder. We’d been here many times before, but that night was different. We knew that nothing between us would ever be the same again. I kept my head buried in his neck and I heard a loud, resolute breath before he climbed the stairs with me held tight in his arms.

  “Hi,” he whispered as we stood right at the top of the landing, overlooking our made up kingdom.

  “Hi,” I answered, lifting my head up and wrapping my arms around his neck at the same time.r />
  “Blue, there’s so much I want to tell you. I don’t know where to begin. I need you to know—”

  “Shhh.” I traced my finger along the outline of his lips. “Words don’t matter now. It’s too late for words.”

  He nodded his head with a sad smile, while lowering me and resting my head carefully on the floor.

  “Jude,” I breathed. “I need to feel… Please, make me feel loved.”

  He moved his body next to mine, trailing his fingers down from my face to my neck and slowly slipping his hand underneath my shirt. I took in a deep breath before closing my eyes and enjoying the feeling of his skin against mine. Never had I ever felt so connected to anyone in my life. He kissed me, softly at first, allowing all that pent up energy between us to possess his hands as they roamed all over my body. He began to worship my lips, reverently tracing every inch of it with his tongue. And then he stopped, searching my face for approval. We were crossing the line and there was no turning back. I nodded my head and raised my arms above my head.

  He responded by lifting up my shirt, exposing me completely, and then by covering every part of me with his mouth. His touch vibrated through my skin, it scorched my pain away. It was soothing, arousing, assuring. Like a powerful ray of light that erased all the blemishes in my life.

  “My God, Blue, you are so beautiful.” He traced his lips downward from my breasts to my stomach and down to the red birthmark on the inside of my thigh. “I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you.”

  In that instance I was sure that I had realized my fate: it was to lose myself to someone who I would never see again.

  “Jude!” I cried out as he buried himself inside me. How on earth did I survive so long without this? He stretched me, he pervaded me, but most importantly, he filled my heart.

  “Tell me. Tell me this is different. Tell me this is special,” he ordered.

  “It is,” I said with a moan as he pushed faster and faster. “Never, never like this.”

  “You feel like home, Anna,” he groaned, resting his arms directly above my shoulders and holding my head in place. He continued forcefully, rhythmically, and we moved together, our bodies molding perfectly in a choreographed performance. We were made for each other and the many movements in this symphony were all part of a plan. The tempo, the rhythm, the alternating touches and kisses—they all came together in a perfect composition. Beads of sweat formed on his brow; his eyes were darker than they had ever been. He tried to stop, tried to pull back, tried to slow down.