3 The Encounter with the Shark #2
The journey proved challenging due to the countless pink corals protruding above the water’s surface, but in the end, the landing spot more than made up for it.
The island was just like the one you dream of visiting at least once in your life—completely wild and covered in palm trees across almost its entire surface.
Numerous hermit crabs could be glimpsed atop the tree trunks, while various starfish were clearly visible just below the water’s surface.
Silence reigned all around us, broken only by the soft sound of ocean waves crashing against the coral reef just three meters away.
For the first time since I’d known you, I felt captivated by something else: a magnificent yet unsettling spectacle was unfolding before us.
I lay down on the shore to bask in the bright blue sky; it looked like a masterpiece, embellished by thin, streaked clouds, like the long, tapered fingers of a pianist. I was overcome by the feeling of being a musical staff yet to be written upon.
You lay down next to me, surprising me by placing a tiny hermit crab on my stomach to tickle me.
Trying not to move so as not to upset the little creature, I told you it was hard for me to stay still, gently asking you to get me out of that situation.
In response, you began to brush my skin with your finger.
I didn’t know what to do: the hermit crab had settled right on my belly button and showed no signs of wanting to move.
If I moved, it might pinch me with its sharp claws.
I decided not to let you have your way and stood motionless, staring at the sky. Your cheeky hand was sliding over my breast, but it hadn’t counted on the hermit crab. The little creature attacked without warning, and we both jumped.
The incident put me in such a good mood that I started laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe.
Blaming me for what had happened, you grabbed me and began showering me with kisses until, exhausted, I begged for a break.
Looking at you, panting and pleasantly surprised, I realized that I liked the way you acted and the way you took me by surprise when I least expected it.
I realized I didn’t know you at all and just how wonderful it was to discover more about you moment by moment.
The sun, now sinking into the sea, reminded us that it was getting late, so we hurried back to the main island.
I’d always loved sunsets, but I never would have believed that south of the equator they’d last just a breath.
We left the canoe at the storage area and started heading toward the bungalow, passing by the beach bar, where we met an entertainer who spoke Italian.
Turning to us, he confessed that he’d been waiting for us to ask if we wanted to see a one-of-a-kind spectacle: the evening feeding of the lagoon’s sharks, hosted by the locals at their village.
We gladly accepted and followed the young man.
To be honest, you seemed less enthusiastic, thinking back on the encounter from a few hours earlier.
Soon we arrived at the village, where we were warmly welcomed and led to a small marina.
Lined up along the dock were numerous buckets brimming with vegetables, fruit, and legumes.
The lagoon lay still, and there was no sign of any sharks.
When the locals began pouring the contents of the buckets into the water, we saw several hazelnut-colored shapes in the distance approaching rapidly.
There were about twenty of them, of various sizes, and all with their dorsal fins folded back.
The largest was a female expecting a pup, and I squeezed your hand, moved to see fish of such size behaving so docilely.
“I want to apologize for the way I reacted today when I got angry with you because of the shark. I didn’t realize that this was the experience you wanted to share with me,” you told me regretfully.
I replied without thinking: “And I want to apologize for rejecting the experience you wanted to give me last night.”
I’d said it now; I was realizing I had no way out—and that maybe I didn’t want one anymore.
After thanking the locals for the unexpected encounter with the cetaceans, we returned to the bungalow.
That evening, the so-called “white night” had been organized—a buffet dinner with a dance party that you could only attend if dressed in white.
Commenting on the evening’s program, you remarked slyly, “I could even go naked, given the sleepless nights you put me through; one more or one less… it makes no difference.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or feel sorry for your good-natured sarcasm, and such a strange expression crossed my face that you asked me if I’d changed my mind.
I couldn’t understand why you were asking me that, and in that moment I felt hurt and started crying.
It always happened to me like that when I felt like I was waking up from a dream whose plot only I knew.
Pulling me gently toward you, you said in a whisper, “Come here, silly girl. I often forget that you’re as simple as the air you breathe and that you never have any malice in what you do or what you say.”
You made my smile bloom again.
We started getting ready for that moonlit evening.
For the occasion, I’d chosen a very form-fitting little white satin dress that showed off my tan, but I was having trouble zipping it up in the back.
Not wanting to look clumsy in your eyes, I retreated to the bathroom under the pretext of fixing my hair.
I tried every possible way to zip it up, glancing at myself in the mirror, but it was no use.
On the spot, I decided to put it off for the time being, instead pulling my hair up and securing it with a white beaded hairpin.