A Stroll Along the Beach

He watched as the long-legged plover hopped across the wet sand searching for a snack. It’s footprints left perfect arrow shapes on the wet surface before the shore break washed them away. Then his attention turned to a young couple swimming lazily through the shallow water together It was so incredibly beautiful, the ocean changed from brilliant turquoise to the deepest of blues as the water depth changed. There was the perfect amount of fluffy white, clouds and the sand was so clean and golden.

The trouble was, he had to admit it, he was just plain bored. He had come to the island to get away from it all. The divorce was final and he had moved into his new house. He had wanted to be somewhere different, to be away from lawyers and accountants and colleagues. He had been here four days and probably only spoken two complete sentences during that time. One to the luggage attendant and the other to the barman at the beach bar and grill. There were quite a lot of familiar faces already. The family with the hyperactive twins throwing sand all around. He had to be careful not to be seated near them. Then there was the group of teenagers throwing a Frisbee in and out of the ocean. They irritated him because they were so carefree and athletic. There were lots of overweight grey-haired couples, and some young Japanese tourists. No-one around his age who was single, of either sex. So now he was here for another two days and he thought he might go crazy with boredom.

He idly let some sand trickle through his fingers and glanced at his watch. Only 5;00 p.m., another two hours before sunset and still too early to prop up the bar. He flipped through the romantic paper back he had bought in the airport. He had imagined he would enjoy the luxury of reading a novel, but he couldn’t seem to get into it. He kept reading a page or two and then not having a clue as to what he had been reading. He wasn’t even sure he knew who all the characters were exactly.

He glanced along the beach and saw in the distance the runner he had seen about this time on the three previous days. He knew her routine now, she always ran along the beach and back three times. Then she sat on the water’s edge for a while to cool off and walked back and disappeared into the mêlée of tanning bodies out of sight. As she came closer he noticed she was older than he had at first thought, probably because he hadn’t really paid that much attention anyway. She was probably about his own age in fact. She ran past him with long, loose strides and he saw her slow down at the end of the bay and splash herself with water. After a few minutes she started her walk back along the beach and passed by him again.

On an impulse he decided to follow her. Heck, he had nothing to do, he might as well take a stroll along the beach. She was fairly tall but her pace was slower than he was used to when bustling around the city. He had to stop a couple of times and pretend to be picking up shells or pebbles. She walked past all the turquoise umbrellas and chaises draped with orange towels. He thought perhaps she was going to change her routine and walk back along the beach again, but she just kept going. He realized she was leaving the hotel’s bay and picking her way through some lava rocks to the adjoining bay. He had never bothered to walk this far before and hadn’t realized that it was accessible. He expected to see another hotel or two, but instead there were several old beach houses with weathered wood and corrugated roofing.

She stopped at the first cottage with a hand on the railing at the bottom of the wooden steps. Suddenly she spun around, removed her sun glasses, and fixed him with an intense stare saying sharply, “Why are you following me?” He was taken aback, and said simply “I’m sorry, I was just bored and taking a stroll.” She considered him at some length without speaking, and then asked, “What’s your name” “Oh, its James, James Sutton.” He replied. She continued to scrutinize him. He was a large man and began to feel awkward standing there, and wondered if he should say goodbye and continue to walk along the beach. Then she said, “My name is Sonja, would you like to join me for a glass of beer?” “Oh, well, yes, that would be very nice, thank you. ” He said, wishing he had thought of something more intelligent to say. She walked up the shallow steps to the verandah and disappeared into the house. He followed slowly and could not decide whether it was appropriate to take a seat without actually having been invited, so he decided to lean on the railing and view the tidal pools.

She was gone for quite a while, and he had seen several sand crabs playing in the rocks and running along the sand to disappear down invisible holes. She returned bearing two bottles of St. Pauli Girl beer and tall German beer mugs. She placed these on the glass table and drew up a chair, so he followed suit. She had tied a floral sarong over her swimsuit. “So, James, are you staying at the hotel?” she asked. “Well, yes I am, but to tell you the truth I’m a bit bored. There doesn’t really seem to be anyone in my age group to talk to.” He could hear a slight whine in his voice and immediately felt foolish. He disguised this quickly by asking, “Is this your house?” She was considering him again with a steady gaze. She had short straight brown hair and hazel eyes. “I’ve rented the house for a couple of weeks. I’m a writer and decided this island would be a good setting for my next book.”

He realized she had some kind of slight accent which he couldn’t place at that moment, perhaps Russian or Slavic. They both sipped their beer and began to make introductory small talk. By the end of the second beer he had learned that she was recently widowed after being married for 25 years. She had two children in college and lived in Los Angeles. She wasn’t sure if she was going to stay there because she was tired of the pollution. It seemed that her husband had left her fairly comfortably off financially, so she thought she might sell the house there and start a new life, but she hadn’t decided where to do this. She had been writing children’s books for some time, and figured she could do this from any location. Her children didn’t want her to leave the home they had grown up in, but they were leading their own lives and it didn’t seem as if she saw them too often anyway.

He had revealed that his own marriage had recently ended by mutual consent, and it was a huge relief to have it finally behind him. Now he wasn’t quite sure what direction his life should take. When she went to get the third beers from the fridge she returned with a bowl of Oriental rice crackers and he realized that the sun was near to setting and he would need to head back so that he could find his way around the lava rocks. He was enjoying having someone to talk to though and was reluctant to leave. He wasn’t really sure what the protocol was nowadays, it had been so long since he had been a bachelor. So he stood up explaining he should return to the hotel, and suddenly found himself asking her if she would like to join him for dinner. She surprised him by saying, “I have a simple meal planned here, would you like to stay and dine with me.?” She followed this with a comment that she really didn’t like to get dressed up and go to the hotel restaurants, although she had eaten there a few times when she had first arrived here. He thought this was an excellent idea, although he pictured himself stumbling back over the rocks in the dark, so he offered to assist her in preparing the meal and she agreed.

They stayed to watch the sun go down to see if there was a green flash, but it seemed there was a little too much haze on the horizon. However the sky was streaked with gold and orange through the clouds, and the ocean turned to a milky pond. He went to get washed in a small old-fashioned bathroom, and returned to find her in the kitchen chopping salad vegetables. She told him she was a vegetarian but couldn’t resist fresh fish sometimes, but although there was a barbecue at the cottage her husband had always been in charge of such things and she didn’t know how to work it. He said he would be glad to oblige as this was something of an area of expertise for him, and she quickly produced a filet of fresh local fish she had purchased that morning. He was soon searching around for charcoal and lighter fuel and realized he was humming to himself. It certainly wasn’t because she was particularly attractive, but she had an interesting face with high cheek bones. Somehow they seemed relaxed in each other’s company, because of the similarity in their current situations.

She produced a chilled bottle of Chardonnay to go with the meal and had made brown rice. Dinner turned out to be very pleasant with lively conversation on a variety of topics. She and her husband had emigrated from Yugoslavia and she had only returned once to visit her aging parents and was glad for them that they had died before all the troubles had started over there. They were enjoying the warm evening air scented with the rich aroma of night blooming jasmine. A stephanotis vine laced itself around the railings of the deck and added to the variety of perfumes. When she finally rose from the table saying she must clean up, he naturally carried plates inside to the kitchen with her.

After the dishes were washed it seemed the most natural thing for him to lean towards her to kiss her and say thank you for such a delightful evening. She stepped back as he did this and he saw her eyes wide with what could only be fear. He stood still, confused. He thought they had connected and were getting along so well, he had actually assumed that he would probably spend the night there. She looked down and said, “I’m so sorry. My husband has not been dead for so very long. I have never been with another man, I’m not sure I am ready for such a step yet.” He was at a loss to know how to handle this situation. He apologized for being so forward, and said he completely understood and it was time for him to go.

Then she said she had a rented car and could drive him back along the road as the tide must be in by now and he would not be able to walk back along the beach. They got inside her car in silence. He felt extremely embarrassed at having been rebuffed, but at the same time he really did understand. When she pulled the car up at the hotel’s main lobby, he asked if perhaps they could meet again tomorrow. She said she would like that, and suggested they explore a hot springs lake she had heard about. He agreed that sounded splendid, and they made plans to meet after lunch at her cottage.

As he took his shower he thought more about her, it had been such a peaceful evening, almost as if two old friends were meeting again. Then he sat out on the lanai of his room for a while and enjoyed the night sky. The moon had set while they were eating their dinner and it was so clear he could make out the Milky Way overhead. He kept thinking about Sonja. She fascinated him in a way he didn’t quite understand. She had lead a quiet, simple life being a homemaker and raising two children. She had begun making up bedtime stories for them when they were quite small and they had encouraged her to write them down. Eventually she had so many it made sense to contact a publisher. The books were illustrated with real photographs which she took herself, and it seemed children loved them.

Although they had discussed many subjects over dinner he had the feeling that she was hiding something, or had some dark secret that she wasn’t ready to share with anyone yet. There was definitely an air of mystery about her. Also she wasn’t the typical woman that he expected himself to be attracted to. She was quiet and reserved, and yet she also had a quick sense of humour. He lay awake for a long time thinking back over the encounter and as he heard the waves lapping the shore he wondered if she was thinking about him too.

The next day he felt more energetic than on previous days, and went for a swim before breakfast. He bought postcards and wrote wish you were here notes to all his friends at work and his golfing buddies. He wandered around the hotel shops for a while and decided to buy some flowers to take to Sonja. The sprays of mauve and white dandrobium orchids were so delicate and feminine he thought they might appeal to her. At 1:00 p.m. he set off to walk briskly around the bay to her cottage. She was sitting on the deck with her feet on another chair reading a book. She seemed shy but pleased when he handed her the flowers, and quickly arranged them in a vase and placed them in the center of the table.

They chatted for a while and then she packed a basket with a bottle of wine, some glasses and a few snacks and they set off in the little red Metro with an island map and James acting as navigator. They chatted comfortably along the way, mostly about the scenery and how it compared to their home towns. The traffic wasn’t heavy and they found the turn off to the old road leading to the valley lookout without any trouble. They bumped along a dusty cane road for what seemed like a long way, and suddenly they were at the very edge of the valley. They both leaped from the car like a couple of children, and ran to look over the edge. They could see across the valley floor to the steep cliffs on the other side where tiny waterfalls made their way to the river and on to the ocean beyond. It was so breath-taking and exhilarating, and he couldn’t resist grasping her hand and saying, “I’m so glad we’re sharing this moment together.” She didn’t withdraw her hand from his, but he felt a little tenseness even though she smiled up at him.

It was just a short distance from there to hike down the trail to the hidden pool surrounded by fragrant ginger and a multitude of other tropical flowers. They wasted no time in peeling off their shorts and tee shirts and plunging into the warm water. The hot water came bubbling up through the lava rocks on the floor of the pool and it was a delightful, calming feeling to be floating around with swirls of warm water passing by. They swam and splashed until they were exhausted and climbed out with tingling skin and rubbery legs. Sonja spread out the blanket and towels she had brought and James opened up the wine bottle. The sky was clear and bright and lying back to dry in the sun was wonderfully relaxing.

She was lying on her back with her eyes closed and he propped himself on an elbow to watch her. Her face had taken on a new serenity and she looked peaceful. He reached out and ran a finger lightly down her cheek and she opened her eyes and looked straight at him. He couldn’t help himself from saying, “Sonja, you are an incredibly beautiful woman.” She blushed visibly and looked at him a moment longer, then turned away. Then she sat up and crossed her legs and propped her chin on her knuckles, she seemed to have reached some kind of decision. “James, I must tell you something now. I was only ever with my husband in bed, and … I am not normal. Oh, this is so hard for me, but I want to tell you, because I feel I can trust you. I am what Americans call frigid, I don’t enjoy sex.” She looked away and he saw tears welling from her eyes. He wanted desperately to comfort her but wasn’t sure what to do. She went on, “It has been one of the great sadness’ of my life, and my husband hated me because of this.”

He felt overwhelmed with compassion for her, and without thinking wrapped his arms round her and held her close to him rocking slightly as if she was an injured child. She made no effort to leave the circle of his arms and he gently kissed the top of her head and stroked her wet hair. Then he lifted her chin a little and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his finger. He told her, “Your husband was a foolish man, you are a very sensual being, I can just sense it.” She was embarrassed and hid her face again, but when next she raised her head it was to let him kiss her. He was careful to be incredibly gentle until he realized she was responding to him. It was almost as if the ice she had been wrapped in was melting beneath his touch. He could feel her breathing becoming deeper and he began to slowly run his hands over her body. She lay back and put her arms around him and he felt her fingers trace the muscles down his back coming to rest at his waist. He stopped then and looked into her eyes and said, “I don’t want you to do anything that doesn’t feel right to you.” And she responded by saying, “This doesn’t feel like anything I’ve known before, don’t stop.”

She seemed like a fragile, broken doll in his arms, and he wanted more than anything to heal her. He kissed her neck and her breasts above her bathing suit. He ran his hands ever so gently down her slender thighs. He felt her awakening more with every touch and he delighted in being able to bring life into a body which had been sleeping for so many years. When he thought the time was right he lowered the straps of her suit ad looked into her eyes again. She nodded “Yes” and when they were both naked he said, “Sonja, you are very sexy.” and she replied, “Nobody has ever said that to me before. You are the kindest of all men.” They kissed again, this time more fervently, their bodies becoming hotter, he ran his hands over the creamy skin which had been hidden beneath her bathing suit. It was so silky and his hand slid down and found its way to her triangle of wiry hair. Then very slowly he inserted the tip of his finger into her vagina. It was soft and moist and she moaned quietly, and let her hands slip lower down to his buttocks. He massaged the insides of her smooth thighs, and then let his finger slide inside her again. This time she said “ahh” and began to move beneath his touch. He leant down and kissed each breast in turn, at first gently then a little more vigorously.

She took his hand and placed it back on her crotch, and then tentatively touched his penis with her own hand. He felt himself swell larger as with the lightest touch she explored his organ. Then with a sudden urgency she pulled him closer to her and began to guide him into her body. She seemed so small he was afraid of hurting her, but she was strong and muscular too. Soon they were joined as one and moving together rhythmically. She dug her nails into his ass and pushed him deeper within her, she arched her back and stretched her long neck back. His hands ran up and down her torso and he delighted in the feeling of excitement they were generating together. He kissed her neck, her shoulders and then her mouth more deeply. In a very short time she began to have spasms and contractions squeezing him inside of her until he joined her in a blissful climactic ecstasy. He realized she was crying out, “Oh, my god, Oh, my god. I never knew it could be like this. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Even after he was completely flaccid and slid from her he wanted to cover her with kisses. She looked at him and held him tight, her slanted eyes bright with the joy she had experienced. Then they lay together, just enjoying the relaxed state, dozing beneath the warm sun.

After a while, they sat up and poured wine into glasses. They toasted each other and laughed as they sat cross legged on the towel and realized they both felt ravenous. They quickly devoured the taro chips she had brought along. Then it seemed only natural to take another dip into the pool and swim naked enjoying the warm water surging around them. He lifted her weightless body and let her float on his arms with her head tipped back into the water. He spun around and around while her boyish figure arched up towards the sky. He felt incredibly happy that he had helped this woman transition to another stage of her life.

The next time he saw Sonja she was smiling at him from the back cover of her new book. He was in a book store in New York and had wondered over to the children’s section to look for a gift for his niece. Sonja had just published a new book with an island setting, he glanced through the pages and a broad smile broke from him when he saw the photograph of children playing beside the hidden pool in the valley. He glanced at her earlier books and saw a shy somber face looking back at him. He knew that she had now truly become the woman she deserved to be, and he was thrilled that he had been able to help her arrive there. He decided to purchase the book and while he was waiting in line to pay for it he looked through the first few pages. There on the dedication page was written, “For James.” He felt an overwhelming sense of pride and beamed at the cashier as he happily handed over his money.