Chapter 64
Chapter Sixty-Four
Decades unfold as easily as ripples spread across a pond.
Eternity, the perfect promise.
As though in a warped time zone, people and places transform. We, however, remain unaffected. Time advanced, though for us stasis was a given.
To ease my adjustment, Sunaria encouraged frequent moves to new provinces, her belief being that such would provide the subtle illusion that one had merely changed to a more progressive town, though the world evolved.
Falling back into the leisurely pace of life had been easy.
Removing myself from the tediousness of residing in a frenetic city, immersing myself in solitude, rediscovering old pleasures found in literature, music, language, and art, and finally allowing what little was left of the man I’d once been to reawaken.
A personal renaissance.
Preferring coastal life, taking solace in long barefoot walks along golden sandy beaches beneath starlit skies, I stilled that inner, unquiet voice – evoking the delusion that I wasn’t really alone and that somehow God might find a way to forgive me, and I him.
Even at night, midsummer’s warmth lingered, and a gentle breeze carried the salty scent of the blue-green ocean.
I stood precariously close to the edge of the cliff, admiring the rocky shoreline and the crescent moon reflecting sunlight off its grey-silver orb. I’d never been one for sunsets – at least that’s what I told myself.
Remembering Senor Machon, my first tutor, I smiled, fondly recalling his lessons, which enlightened me at such a young age, feeding me knowledge that I’d needed. And later, my relationship with Miguel, his lessons not from books but drawn from life itself, his wisdom that only now I appreciated.
I could still hear the echo of my son Jacob’s voice from time to time, but far less frequently.
Here I’d managed to suppress many of the old inner ghosts, subdue the angst that disallowed any sense of calm, searching for self-forgiveness or even insight as a poor second.
I tried to keep that awful feeling of being overtaken by the unseen at bay, but still feared I’d be unable to prevent it.
The hairs pricked on the back of my neck. With a quick check of my surroundings, I confirmed that I was alone.
Holding Marcus’ letter, I re-read the missive: London was even more avant-garde than when I’d left, Rachel was flourishing, and Belshazzar’s thrived.
Come back to me, were his final words.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Sunaria approaching. “How long have you been watching me?”
She looked surprised. “I just got here.”
There it was again…that sense that someone was close by, watching, closing their mind to me, closing their heart so I couldn’t fathom their identity.
Sunaria’s expression showed she was uncomfortable with me being so near the cliff’s edge. Her dress billowed around her in the breeze.
“The clouds broke an hour ago.” I flashed her a smile. “I love this view.”
“How many times do you have to see it?” Sunaria grumbled. “I yearn for something else, something different.”
I turned away. “We’re not going to Madrid.”
“I wasn’t thinking of Madrid.”
“I’m not ready to go back yet.”
“But I am. I can’t stay here.”
I met her troubled gaze. “What’s brought this on?”
“Boredom.”
“Why so desperate to return to London?”
“Cornwall.”
“To seek out your ancestors?” Reluctant to bring up an old argument, I looked away.
“Why not?”
“Because there’s risk and no gain.”
“I’ll gain joy in seeing how my descendants have fared.”
“You’re not going.”
She pouted. “I hate this place.”
“But it’s so peaceful.”
“It gives me too much time to think.”
“That’s what I like about it, less chaos.”
“I’ll only be gone for a few months.”
“You’ve made up your mind, then?” I asked, glancing at her.
She nodded. “This is important to me.”
“You’re being reckless.” I sighed. “Your relatives are dead. Their ancestors are a diluted version of them.”
“You think that this is living? This is stagnation. Marcus and Rachel are living the high life, mingling with society’s finest, and I’m stuck here. Sand gets in my hair, under my fingernails, and in my knickers!”
I burst out laughing.
After a few moments, she allowed herself to laugh as she took my arm, leaning against me. “The same view is driving me crazy. I need variety.”
“You’re the one who suggested this place.”
“I didn’t think we’d be here forever.”
“My mind’s getting close to some kind of resolution.”
“Then stay here. I know where to find you.” Her lips met mine.
With the deepest kiss, I tried to persuade her to stay.
Our kiss was a quiet storm of forgiveness and understanding, tongues tangling, lips bruised by all the words we couldn’t speak even though we should – we loved each other too deeply. It was raw, harsh, and honest.
Sunaria strolled back along the cliff and when she turned, a gust of wind blew strands of hair across her face.
She smiled with the look of a woman who has changed beyond all recognition.
I considered going with her.
Far off, where the ocean met the sky, I saw a melding of dusky blue hues, a glorious array of colors. My mood became restless, a precursor to a night of hunting, when I’d search out new ways to amuse myself. A large seagull swooped low over my head and I ducked, losing my footing.
I quickly regained my balance and turned around.
Sunaria had gone.