Of Sea and Men (Part 2)

- Are you feeling well? Do you have any sign of pain?

The frown and the blank stare showed evidence that the boy was quite confused and making a huge effort to realize what was happening in the small hospital room, surrounded by people dressed in white, who were absolute strangers to him.

There was also a more mature man, wearing normal clothes, watching the whole scene, with very sharp attentive eyes, but without uttering any word. He had a somewhat friendly face, auburn beard and light brown hair thinned at the top of the head. For some reason he could not explain, he felt an immediate sympathy for the man leaning against the immaculately white wall of the hospital room.

The doctor had tested all his vital signs, auscultated his body and was now examining him with a small flashlight. They had already made all possible tests, including X-rays and ultrasound, to check how healthy his organs were. Physically, the young man was in good shape. They still needed to ascertain whether the head injury brought any side effects to his mental or cognitive response… or both…

- Can you understand what I say? Are you able to remember your name, where you come from, who you are... anything at all?

The boy showed no change in that faraway look, just a quick, almost unnoticeable eyebrow frown. He was probably trying hard to adjust the brain work and understand the message expressed by the words of the doctor, who had just examined him completely and insisted on knowing anything about him.

- Can you understand what I say?

- I understand the words, but it's all so confusing...

The pressure that was being placed on him, with those questions, did not seem to help much. It was better to leave the boy alone for some time. He needed some rest. The doctor called the older man out of the room with a nod.

***

- You were found by me on the beach, unconscious, completely naked and with a rather dreadful wound on the back of your head. We were expecting that the memory would be affected by a concussion. Can you understand what I mean?

The boy nodded.

- As much as I try, I cannot recall anything. My mind is just completely blank...

The ferry cruised toward the island, bringing those two men so different from each other, sitting side by side, each one with his own history. In each head, a different intention in relation to their complex pasts: one trying to rescue what had been forgotten and the other trying to forget what had never failed to be painfully reminded...

***

The fisherman felt he had some responsibility for the boy, for having found him and, in agreement with the hospital administration, decided to bring him back to the island to try and help him recover the lost memory.

They walked along the beach, heading for the place where he was found by the fisherman, after the stormy night. The boy slowed his pace down and looked at the man, as if he knew him well and said:

- Why do you hide yourself in this island, far from everything and everyone and with this profession that is not yours?

- How do you know that?

- I do not know how to explain. I just feel it. And I also feel that there is much more to say, but you keep on avoiding it...

- I do not avoid anything...

The older man smirked, avoiding the direct staring from the young man, who was walking beside him. He thought to himself that he did not have to give any satisfaction to him, but a strange feeling that he could trust the other man and open his heart up, crossed his mind flippantly.

Messing with the past, after all that time, did not seem to be a good thing anyway. Some skeletons ought to be kept in the cupboard forever. Best to leave the past where it well belonged in: far away in the most possible distant and untouched bygone times...

The boy carefully looked back at the man and smiled, more to himself than to be noticed, at that response, triggered, almost impatiently and without any eye contact.

- I have to respect you, not only for what you are doing to me, but for wanting to keep your secrets away from everyone. If that's what you prefer, there is nothing I can say or do. I hope you know what you're doing.

- I do know what I’m doing. Trust me... This is the place. It was here where I found you, almost dead. Do you want to be alone?

The boy looked around. Although he acknowledged the place was quiet and its natural beauty was almost untouched and wild, bringing him a sense of serenity, it did not evoke any true recollection in his mind.

- I don’t know. This place does not mean anything to me. The fact that I was found here, does not imply that the accident... or incident… took place around here, anyway.

He was right. So much could have happened: an accident, an assault, an unfortunate coincidence... The site might not have anything to do with what really happened to him.

The man looked at the boy. He did not seem to be worried about finding out where he came from or where he would go, who he had been or what he might come to find out, when he recovered his memory. Apparently, the only thing that mattered to him was being alive. He did not need to carry the unnecessary burden of a past to remember. That seemed to be enough for a man who knew so little about himself that far.

What a strange feeling! He made a quick trip inside himself and wondered how different they were. Not having a past to remember seemed to be so much easier to live with than struggling to conceal or bury one...

They were both standing side by side, looking at the horizon, each man absorbed in his own thoughts... so close and yet so far at the same time. The boy closed his eyes and felt the wind messing with his fair hair, touching his pale skin, bringing the pleasant aromas of the ocean and the seaweed and filling him with a gust of life.

Life. That was an unusually strong and weak concept at the same time. It was a reality or an illusion that we always carry along with us? How unpredictable can it be? How unreasonable it is to remain physically healthy and mentally sane? Why did those thoughts fill his mind like the air filled his chest? Why did he feel good, knowing there was nothing dearly to him in that place? Why there were so many questions and no answers at all?

He sighed, breathing the ocean air in. That place had become his all: his present and his future... and perhaps his only refuge, until now...

- Let's go back, shall we? I'm hungry. I will prepare something to eat. If you want to be left alone here for a while, it's up to you...

- I'd like just to stay here just a little longer, if it is not a problem... I enjoy this peace and this sense of silence in my soul.

- No problem, of course. Stay as long as you wish. I’ll be home anyway.

***

The older man stood up and collected the plates from the table. They had dined without exchanging many words. Although they appreciated each other's company, they did not extend the conversation long, as the issues would tend to turn around a very limited sphere of subjects which were avoided by both.

The boy picked the rest of the crockery and cutlery up and put them carefully in the sink. He turned around, walked out to the veranda and leant on the deck rail, looking at the empty darkness and listening, not far away, the soft, monotonous song of the sea. The air was cold, but he did not care much. He liked the mild fresh air of the autumn and the typical sounds of the night on the island.

The other man was watching, from inside the house, that man so much younger than him, with so much life still ahead and no memory to relive at all. At least, he thought, he had no reason to feel any nostalgia...

How many plans might have been made at some point in his short life, and were abandoned without any completion? How many possibilities would also be opened for him in the future? Probably many of them would be regarded as if they had never been planned, although they had been... A page... or many, yet all blank and with so much still to be written by the hands of fate. It was as if the previous pages had been torn apart from that precious book, leaving it almost like new and ready to be used as if it were the first time. All he had to do was to start from that point on and rewrite many interesting new stories...

The fisherman thought of himself and how he wished he could have a chance, too, to rewrite his own life story. He sadly laughed at himself, thinking that there, in the same house, there were two human beings so different from each other and with such opposite intentions in relation to their pasts. Funny thing, however, they had yet so much future ahead of them.

He walked into the porch with a mug of hot coffee in his hands and offered the other man, who accepted it, smiling. He leaned on the railing next to the boy. They were both looking at the immense open darkness around them, with their thoughts flying free with the night wind and listening to the monotonous lapping of the ocean continuously caressing the island coastline.

- You already paid for your mistakes. You could have already forgiven yourself and moved on with your life.

- How do you know if I’ve already paid? How can you tell me to get on with my life? Am I not living another life already?

- It's not what your eyes show... They always have such a great aloofness and this sadness is so touching...

The man closed himself in his shell. He did not want to relive the anguish and the sense of guilt he once felt. Yes, he had already paid that painful punishment.

A surgical procedure, where the patient had not survived the intervention, was a severe enough reason to stay live in his memory for long. Yes, he had operated drunk, but what choice did he have? Anyway, he had been tried and convicted. The verdict was manslaughter and he was incarcerated for three years for the crime, without any right for bail, due to his act of negligence. He had duly paid his guilt in its entirety, despite the reduction attempts, made by an expensive lawyer known by his expertise. The process culminated with the loss of the license and the right to exercise the medical profession, definitely.

Between the feelings of remorse and indignation, he had buried everything inside his heart and restarted, on that island, away from everyone he had known one day and that had abandoned him completely, while he was imprisoned. There, in the island, he was a total stranger and his past did not matter to anyone. What he liked in the community, was that he could have his own private life and no one seemed interested in knowing more than what he wanted to show. He had no interest in knowing about the lives of others either. He had no time or curiosity about their histories anyway.

But towards the young man with no past, he felt a genuine interest. Somewhere inside his soul and for a reason he did not really care about, he felt he should help him out of that situation. In his heart, he felt responsible for that boy, at least until he recovered his memory and moved on with his own life.

***

 The doctor came, as usual, on a pale cold Thursday and called them to his office. He examined the boy and asked how he was feeling. Then he asked him to sit down. By the way he started the conversation, he seemed set to make a serious statement. He picked up a brown envelope from inside his briefcase, cleared his throat out and said:

- I just received this Police Report. I believe you will find it pretty interesting...

He handed the envelope in to the boy and waited for his reaction. He opened it, read the report and handed it in to the fisherman, so he could read it too. The doctor acknowledged that was a clear demonstration of trust. The older man flipped through the few pages and returned the report to its rightful owner.

- It does make sense. Do you think that helps?

- I don’t know yet. For now, there is nothing much I can say. It seems my memory is not instantly restored simply by reading the report, after all. It does not work that way, no matter how hard I try to do so.

The doctor finished a complete check-up and dismissed himself from work, since there was no one else to be seen that day. He invited the two men to go along with him to the Coffee Shop and chat a little more relaxed.

The doctor knew that the heads of the two... and his also... were working briskly. The coffee was just a subtle excuse to discuss what they had just read and, besides that, he still had some time before going back to the mainland that night…

***

Oblivion (Phase 3: Ultimate)

My mind is going blank

little by little.

I just cannot think

clearly

anymore

about all those things

that left their deep scars

imprinted in my soul.

I feel so mentally tired

and my body is showing

signals

of that exhaustion.

Those times of yore

which kept on coming back

to haunt me

every then and then

are finally gone.

What I suffered,

what I cried,

what I lived,

what has finally died…

And everything

that were once

so alive,

as if it was in another life…

are now gone

for good and,

I hope,

forever…

As if I am embraced

by cold arms

of the cobalt waters

in this sea

of emptiness,

I am sinking

slowly

and gradually going

numb...

I close my eyes

and let myself go

deeper

in the deepest deep…

but this time

while drowning

in the comfortable

void of Oblivion,

I feel new flames

of passion

burning soothingly

through my wounded heart

and warming up

my shattered soul…

Ζει με τις αναμνήσεις μου (Zei me tis anamní̱seis mou) - Living with my memories (P.2)

The briny and fresh air blew against my face and body while I ran closer to the man lying motionlessly on the cold beach sand. I knew I had to do something quickly, so my first reaction was to kneel by him and immediately start blowing into his mouth, with my lips pressed against his every couple of seconds, in a desperate attempt to bring him back to life. My heart was beating so fast and so loud I thought it was going to explode. I was not only scared; I was in such a real panic I did not notice he was already breathing in the middle of the procedure. He gasped lightly and slowly opened his eyes with a funny expression stamped on his face.

Instead of relief, I felt a strong impulse to beat him again for the fright he gave me, but I was still too apprehensive to do so. It was I who caused his pain and his passing out, anyway. I could still clearly hear the strong thumping of my heart pumping blood inside the veins in my head and mixing all my thoughts up. 

My face was so near, it was almost touching his and my mouth was so close to his I could feel his still uneasy breath warming my lips up. He did not push me away from him however. He just looked deep into my eyes. His pupils widened immensely almost covering the whole surface of his hazel iris. I felt a strangely uncontrollable longing growing deep inside of me.

I knew I would not find another better opportunity in a million years, so I moved on and kissed him affectionately. He did not make any effort to avoid it, to my surprise and, maybe, to his own. I held his body against mine and felt his arms clutching strongly around my back. For endless seconds I thought I would never let him go off of my clasp. The tension on his body was evident but no words were exchanged, not even when we finally relaxed the grasp from each other.

He made an effort to stand up and I helped him.  We walked silently to his home, which was the nearest private place there was to where we were. When we got into the small entrance hall, he let me in, turned around, closed the front door and stopped, with his hand still holding the cold knob, as if thinking about what had just happened.

My fear of losing him and my courage to move forward seemed to hold hands together, pushing me ahead and making me hold him from behind, with my arms wrapped around his body and my hands crossed on his chest. I smelled his scented hair and kissed the skin on the back of his neck, feeling the sweet perfume still fragrant on his body. He lifted his head, with his eyes shut down. I turned his face to mine and pressed my lips against his. He responded with a sweet kiss and we started fondling each other, while slowly unbuttoning one another’s clothes. He grabbed my hand snugly and led me to the bedroom. I followed him blindly without saying a single word.

(Well, not exactly or truly blindly, as my eyes were fixed on his wonderful lower back, for all that mattered…)

He did not turn the lights of the chamber on, however. He just stopped and held me in a tight embrace. I pushed our bodies onto the bed, still holding each other as if there was no future for us and that only that sweet moment really mattered. The present was then and there… intensely and as long as it could last… and as such ought to be seized… by then and there.

The dim light coming in from the hall was enough to endow me with sufficient luminosity to discretely appreciate his slim silhouette. He was, definitely, perfect to my eyes. His were the most wonderful pair of cheeks I have ever seen in a man before and, as I noticed immediately afterwards, his buttocks were covered with an almost invisible light brown fuzz which, for some reason, reminded me of a ripe peach. I felt the unexpected urge to bite them, but instead, kissed the soft, downy, pale and silky skin.

He moaned slightly and laughed at me. Then he turned around and I could not help but notice the evidence of the enjoyment he was having with my caressing attention. He was an untamed beast; a real stallion at his best.

I was so mesmerized I played with every inch of his fit body for long lasting delightful hours. He accepted all that attention with the appreciation of a gentleman and shared his gratitude by giving me all the consideration I had never had from a lover before. His body was a whole amusement park to me, where I played every ride with full enjoyment. Pleasure meant a new thing to me after that night... and it had a name... and also a surname.

- What have you done to me? I think you have poisoned me.

His face was concealed by the darkness in the bedroom, but I was sure he was smiling at me. I responded with a mix of delighted joy with a pinch of resentment.

- You, crazy man... you, fool. Why have you had me waiting for so long? We could have been enjoying ourselves for such a long time by now. So much time have been wasted...

He sealed my lips with a kiss. He must have dripped some kind of powerful poison in my mouth too - or was it a spell he cast on me? - for my thoughts got confusing and I felt a bit dizzy... I could not think clearly anymore while under his spell. I did not know how dangerous that situation was... until it was too late to go back...

- Forget about the past and the nonsense about wasted time. Life is here and now. Enjoy the moment.

- You're right. It's here and now. I know it is all about my insecurities and fears. I wanted to hate you for what you have done to me... to us... but I can´t... At least not after all that happened tonight.

The computer was playing a sequence of Modern Greek music. He was always listening to unusual music to my knowledge anyway. He hummed some strange sounding words. I asked what those lines meant and he sang, smiling:

- Μη μου λες να ζω μ’ αναμνήσεις            (Mi̱ mou les na zo̱ me anamní̱seis

   δεν το αντέχω                                             Den to antécho̱

   Μου κρατάς τον κόσμο στα χέρια          Mou kratás ton kósmo sta chéria

   άσ’τον να πέσει κι ας χαθώ (*)                As ton na pései ki as chathó̱) (*)

- But what does that mean, anyway?

He lowered the voice and then said:

- A free translation could be:  

  Do not tell me now to live with memories

  I cannot stand it

  You're holding my world in your hands

  So let me fall and let me go...

I looked at him. He was staring at me with a very serious and straight expression on his face, as if he was going to tell me some bad news...

***

The sliding doors opened and closed repeatedly and I did not see any signal of the dearly known face. My heart was heavily apprehensive and the seconds weighed on me like long dull hours. In my thoughts I wondered if he would still look the same after so many years.

‘Oh, God! You know how hard I tried to keep him away from my mind and my thoughts...and erase him forever from my memories’...

The doors opened again and again and again... then all the lighting suddenly disappeared in front of my eyes. It seemed to me he was the only human being walking out of the private area, with a large grin decorating his handsome face. His smile was still so attractively manly and good-looking, I had the impression he was the only light shimmering in that immense airport hall. It seemed to me I had completely forgotten how much that grin used to melt my fears away. Then I realized the reminiscences were all coming back to my mind and I wasn't able to discern what to think anymore. I had been poisoned once and could never recover. How I wished I was free from his enchantment after so long and act naturally, but alas... that was impossible...

We were separated only by the security line. He waved at me. I smiled back and made a sign with my head to have him meeting me at the end of that line. He followed from the other side. When we were finally face to face, I greeted him with my hand for a handshake… or so I tried...

He pulled me against him and gave me his whole body instead, in an embrace that made my entire body shake. With his face touching mine, he whispered in my ears.

- I missed you so much... so very much...

I had my eyes filled with uncontrolled tears and responded to his ears, still holding him firmly in my embrace:

- “Do not tell me (...) to live with memories” only.... ever again...you fool...

*** 

*From Giorgos Mazonakis - Μη μου λες να ζω μ’ αναμνήσεις (Mi Mou Les Na Zw Me Anamniseis)

Ζει με τις αναμνήσεις μου (Zei me tis anamní̱seis mou) - Living with my memories (P.1)

It was a fresh night of a long and dreary very hot day. I ended up at the two-story pub by the beach, drinking and chatting to old acquainted pals, without taking actual notice of the time. It was already long past midnight and too late in the evening, even for my standards, when I decided to take a break and enjoy a smoke out in the night air.

Saturday nights are great. Feeling absolute free from the need of being up early or not having any specific schedule the next morning gave me a kind of sense of comfortable irresponsibility.

I stood at the beach, looking at the dark sea ahead and listening to the sound of waves breaking on the shore, maybe a little too drunk to think about anything serious and feeling very pleased to be there, thinking of nothing and puffing my favorite filtered cigarette.

His presence was only noticed when I heard him saying something about the group of young people that was coming noisily towards the spot where we were standing.

-          Youngsters! I wonder why they always have to be so noisy. I don’t remember being like that… ever…

I looked at him, who seemed as drunk as I was and said nothing. In my mind I was too lazy to consider his comment any seriously. In fact, I was a little envious of them, for being so ingenuously free. The group approached a little closer and sat on the soft white fine sand. One of the young guys stood up, got rid of his clothes and walked towards the dark waters. The others followed without hesitation and jumped in the roaring ocean.

He muttered something I could not really understand, walked some steps away and started stripping, intending to join the group of nudists who were boisterously playing and swimming close by the shore line. I watched him getting rid of his shoes and socks, then the shirt, jeans… and finally the white cotton underwear…

His skin was pale and his body was manly, slim and stiff, not ostensibly muscled, a bit hairy on the chest and on the lower part of the stomach, without being excessively covered by what seemed to me a soft dark fur. His legs were long and strong. His feet were well proportioned and very whitish. His back was hairless as were his buttocks, which seemed to be smooth and firm for a man in his early fifties.

The funny thing about that situation was that for the first time ever I noticed he was really attractive to the eyes. When dressed he seemed too ordinary to be noticed, maybe because of the sober and nearly loose-fitting almost-always-grey-and-blue jeans & shirts he was used to wear and which never really caught a bit of my attention. As he was at that moment, the bare reality was showing an astounding mature beauty which was hidden underneath the usual dull cotton cloth. I thought of a grey moth stripping away its unattractiveness and showing the actual shape of a beautiful butterfly, whose sober colored wings were not really appreciated and that passed through life completely neglected and unnoticed. I considered myself to be drunk enough to think all of that about a man’s body at that time of the day… or better still, of the night.

Almost unconsciously I undressed and followed him, with my eyes still magnetized by the pale body walking just a few steps ahead of me. I jumped in the cold waters before my body could show any evidence of an embarrassing amusement for the view. The physique of the other guys or girls swimming close to us did not make any impression on me. I was startled by my own reaction.

We swam for a while without talking to each other but I have to confess I had to control myself or he would know I could not look away from his amazing body. Fortunately the lights were a bit far away from where we were and I could catch a glimpse every now and then of his startling figure, without him noticing my growing yearning.

When we were finally back to the beach I pretended to be freezing and dressed up quite quickly. He did the same and we silently strode out to the pub area again. I lit another cigarette trying not to show my anxiety.  He did not smoke... at all. My drunkenness was all gone and I felt a little embarrassed to look on to his face as we walked side by side. The pub was already closed when we reached it, so I decided it was time to go home.

We were not close friends by that time and I realized there and then that I wanted us to be closer than we had ever been for obvious reasons. I felt as if an unwelcome cover was being taken off my previously blindfolded eyes.

I am not one of those who can easily get impressed by these kinds of things but I admit the vision of that night events were imprinted in my memory and kept me thinking about my reaction for a good time afterwards.

Next time I saw him I tried every effort to befriend him as close as I could. Summer was high and hot, so we used to go the pub almost every evening and sit by the beach while talking for long and endless hours.

One day, a few weeks later, I decided it was time to go on and tell him how I felt. I did not want to scare him away, so I had to be very careful. I joked about his butts and the way I noticed how perfect they were. He laughed at me and said I ought to be kidding him. I laughed. Inside, however, I decided I had to be even braver if I wanted to insist on my intent. That night, though, I could not go on. Things like these should be natural, not forced.

For many occasions I tried to go back to the matter and he always laughed at me. One day, another few weeks later on, I told him I was really serious. I wanted us to try and do something about it. He seemed to be shocked and said that would never happen. He, nevertheless, kept on coming to the pub and never avoided me, in spite of the serious statement made that day. I understood he was struggling to get used to the idea, or so it was what I wanted it to be anyway.

I decided to stop pushing him for a while, in an effort to bring our cherished friendship even closer, but my thoughts used to betray me and so did my eyes. He surely noticed it, but never let it show clearly. Autumn and wintertime came and passed by us quietly, without my coming back to the matter, as I knew he was still firm in his poise.

A few months had passed again and summer was slowly coming back. We were standing alone on the balcony of the same pub we used to go by the beach. I did not want to spoil the camaraderie between us, so I started carefully. 

-          I don’t know why you keep pretending to ignore the subject but be sure that if something unpleasant happens we can still be friends. I would like to try, nevertheless, instead of avoiding it forever and causing uneasiness for both of us.

He stayed quiet. The night was pleasant and fresh. I was not drunk that time and took his silence for a ‘no’.

I took a deep breath inhaling the saline air surrounding my body and filling my nostrils and lungs with the iodine scent of the ocean. There was a flight of steps from the balcony leading to the soft sandy beach. I went downstairs, took my shoes and socks off and started walking barefoot towards the sea. With my trousers folded up to the knees, I got into the waters which felt amazingly fresh and nice. The sound of the waves and an uncomfortable loud noise in my mind kept me from noticing anything else but my own confrontational thoughts.

There was a pier ahead and I decided to go there with my feet boisterously kicking the sea waters as I walked. I felt like a boy playing along the shore when a familiar voice called me back to reality. He was walking by my side and telling me not to be upset and that I should accept inevitable things as they were… simple like that. I halted. He was serious. I was more serious than he was.

‘How could he be like that’, I asked myself, when I looked at him. I punched his arm hard and he hit me back harder. It was reason enough to start a fight and in no time we were rolling in the water hitting each other as if we were two youngsters fighting for some idiot reason like maintaining the prides of each other above everything and all. After a sequence of punches I hit him very hard in the stomach and he curled up holding his belly and moaning in pain. He asked me to stop and I stood up, turned around and walked off, leaving him alone, before my anger could make me cause a real harm to him. I was so mad at him I could hardly think…

But remorse made me turn back around again and then I saw him lying on his back still holding his stomach. I draw myself near enough to see if he was ok. His eyes were closed and his mouth was a little open, as if he was trying to catch his breath back. Then he stopped moving.

I felt as guilty and scared as a lad who had wounded a colleague in a fight at the schoolyard. I had to do something quickly. Almost instinctively, I ran to him…