The Island

The summer I turned eighteen I travelled to my grandmother’s birthplace. A small island with more goats than inhabitants, it should have held no real interest to a teenager. And yet, I was fascinated with the ruins across the island. I spent the hot days swimming in the blue sea and visiting ancient bridges, temples and tombs.

One particularly hot day, just as I finished visiting the island’s main archaeological site, I stopped at the small cantina outside to buy a bottle of water. As I took the first thirsty gulp a rough voice startled me, making me spill some of it on my t-shirt.

“Take a break and come sit under the shade. Overexposure to the sun can cause severe symptoms,” the voice ordered.

I turned around and looked at the small table next to the cantina. A man, in his late twenties or early thirties, wearing white slacks, perfectly creased and a white shirt looked mockingly at me and beckoned to the chair next to his own.

I wanted to react and tell him off, but the truth was that I was feeling sort of nauseated. So, I sat.

He was drinking some kind of cold coffee and he had the local newspaper on the table before him.

“Have you explored every ancient rock on the island yet or did you miss anything?” he asked and smirked.

I wondered how he knew of my hobby, but then remembered that on such a small island everyone knew everything that went on.

I just nodded, not wanting to open conversation with the sardonic stranger, even if I wondered at the same time at his excellent accent and command of the English language and the fact that he did not look like a native.

He stood up and I could not help but admire his form and physique, as well as his style.

“I shall leave you then, my dear. Just remember to keep out of the sun,” he said and left.

…

I did not return to the island for many years, nine if one wanted to be exact. During these nine years, I had gone to college, graduated, had started to work, had met Stuart, married him, given birth to a beautiful daughter and just one month before returning to the island divorced him. The divorce and the ugly events that led to it were the reasons that I decided that the island was the perfect place to spend my summer vacations and leak my wounds.

The island had not changed during the nine years at all. The same could not be said for me. I was still taken with ancient ruins, but could not go gallivanting on the hills with a stroller in tow. Thus my visit was limited to the main archaeological site. As I finished viewing the monuments and sat under the tree next to the cantina outside to feed Mila, I remembered the stranger I had met here so many years ago.

I do not know why the idea of meeting him again became an obsession. I should probably plead temporary insanity due to the burden of my recent divorce. I started remembering every little detail of that chance encounter like the name of the local newspaper the stranger had been reading.

The very next day, I placed an ad in it.

“Stranger who offered place in shade and advice for sun protection nine years ago outside the archaeological site, sought.” I had included my cell phone number.

Since nothing remained secret on such a small island, by the next day everyone knew I had placed the ad, and I became the target of many teenager pranks. They would call my phone in the night and serenade me, or they would wait for me at the hotel entrance with jokes like “I can be your stranger.”

Very soon I was disappointed and blamed myself for placing the ad, for coming to the island, for marrying Stuart, and pretty much for everything else. Thankfully, having Mila kept me grounded.

Ten days into my vacations, the reception called my room.

“You have a visitor, Madam.”

I went down to the lobby, carrying Mila in my arms and looked for the unnamed visitor. It was shocking that I recognized him immediately. My stranger had come. He looked at me mockingly.

“I heard that you were seeking me out,” he said and looked me over.

His expression changed to something less arrogant and he touched Mila’s nose. “Hallo, poppet,” he greeted her warmly and the baby gurgled with pleasure.

“How?” I asked him, inquiring in truth how he had found out about the ad, since during the last ten days it had become pretty obvious that he did not live on the island.

“George, my cousin and the cantina owner, remembered that I had visited the island nine years ago too, and he gave me a call to tell me about the crazy tourist and her ad. That would be you, my dear,” he said and smirked.

I wondered why I had searched for this specimen of arrogance, but inside I knew. This man seemed to have everything that Stuart had lacked. Self confidence and education, but also security in his masculinity. Stuart who had blamed me for his insecurities and who had used this excuse to beat me every time he felt like it. The psychologist had explained to me over and over how the beatings were not my fault, but solely Stuart’s. I don’t know how I knew but I was patently sure that this stranger would never beat a woman. It was in his eyes and his stance.

The stranger kept looking at me, waiting for me to say something. When no words were forthcoming he simply guided me to the small hotel cafeteria and had me sit down on one of the chairs.

“Don’t you think it is time we introduced ourselves?” he asked and once again I felt like he was making fun of me, but in a good teasing way.

“I am Maria Peterson and this is Mila,” I said.

“Nicolas Adams, in your service.”

I wanted to say something, but making small talk did not seem right. When I had sought him out I had not thought beyond the point of seeing him again. And yet, I could not help but admire him. The last decade had been kind to him and his appearance simply stole my breath.
Once again he took control of the situation. He called the bartender.

“Miki, is your mother at home? Maria here is your distant cousin, the granddaughter of your mother’s fist cousin. Maria, Miki’s mom is the island’s best babysitter. I think you deserve a night out and you will have your cell phone with you if anything is required.”

In just under fifteen minutes everything had been arranged. Miki’s mother had arrived and I recognized her from the market. We had often talked with each other during these past few days, even if I had not been aware of our relationship. The receptionist had also verified that the older woman had at one time or another babysat every child on the island.

Nicolas took my hand in his much larger one and I felt safe for the first time in quite a long period.

He traced my brow with his index finger and whispered.

“Just forget all your pain and troubles for one night and let yourself enjoy,” he said.

He took me to the small port and handed me in a rowing boat. He rowed us for a while to a protected cove.

I looked at the moon and the way it shined on the silver grey water, and I listened to the gentle sound of the water.

The stranger, Nicolas, told me of his work and his life. A successful doctor in London, he often visited the small island where his mother had grown up. He was unmarried by choice, mainly because he always wanted to marry a girl hailing from the island. I told him of my life in New York. I did not linger over the beatings and the visits to the hospital. I concentrated on telling him about Mila and how much I loved her.

He could have asked more, but he seemed to understand that I wanted to simply forget the happenings of the past year. He chose instead to help me forget. He secured the rows and took my hand in his. He kissed my palm and then the wrist. He played with my fingers, caressing and tugging, until I was laughing. It was only just before he took us back to the port that he kissed me gently on the mouth, a soft almost innocent kiss.
It took him many more dates, before I would trust him to place his hands under my skirt and ever more to place other parts of his body under it. At the end it was well worth the waiting for both of us. When the vacations ended, I knew that I could not let him go back to England alone, and he must have known too, because he asked me to go with him.

…

Mila sat in her classroom and raised her hand to answer the new teacher’s question about the summer.

“I am Mila. I spend every summer on the island with my mom and Nicolas, my dad, and my three brothers. Well, Nicolas is only my stepfather and the boys my half brothers, but Nicolas says that since he has chosen me for a daughter and I have chosen him for a father, that must mean that we love each other more. We spend the entire day all together swimming in the sea and fishing. My mom makes us visit all the ancient ruins and Nicolas keeps telling us to keep out of the sun. In the nights, Miki’s mother stays with me and the boys and my parents go out. Miki says that they spend the night fucking each other like rabbits, but when he says that his mother shouts at him, even though he is an adult.”

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