Page 13 of Forever is Now

It was kind of overcast, when we were exploring Medan. We visited palaces, mosques, museums, but it was the more everyday life that I really liked looking at. Getting a sense of how the peoplelive. Don’t get me wrong, the Maimun palace was amazing. It was built by—hold on, I’ve got my notes here. Yes, built by Sultan Ma’mun Al Rashid Perkasa Alamsyah from 1887 to 1891. The palace has thirty rooms, and the interior is this combination of design that reflected Malay culture heritage, and Islamic architecture. There is Indian architecture too, inside, and the furniture and fittings are Spanish and Italian. So, there was this real sense of amalgamation. Vibrancy. And it was kind of overwhelming—and so different to what we’re used to in the West. But the bit that I found most interesting about that palace was walking around the gardens outside. It was extravagant, nicely designed—like, really nice—coconuts on trees, that sort of thing, but behind the palace, someone had set out a clothes horse. Laundry was just drying there. And I really liked that. The juxtaposition.

I liked the stalls in the city, too. People selling trinkets and ornaments, clothes, a whole array of fabrics that were just so vibrant you couldn’t look away. The people were friendly too—especially when they found out we were English. Complete strangers would wave to us as we walked around outside the palaces, children asking our names, saying hello, and they were so excited when we spoke with them.

It was hot there too. I’m used to Devon where the hottest we get is probably 25 degrees Celsius most years. But there it was in the early thirties pretty much every day. It was humid too. Muggy.

We stayed in Medan for two days, I think it was, then we were off to Bali.

Bali was also very hot. Very humid, too. We were visiting a lot of temples there, starting off in Manukaya, which is this village. There’s a mountain spring there. A holy mountain spring. Ruari had been reading about it in a guidebook he’d bought. It was so... tranquil. We did a lot of walking there, really taking in nature—and it was so beautiful. But hot. Each day, I was soaked in sweat, and I hadn’t put on enough sun cream one day, because my skin was on fire afterward. I could hardly wear clothes at one point. It wasthatpainful.

We also went to the Sacred Monkey Sanctuary too, which had this temple complex inside which was just amazing. And the monkeys! So, one grabbed Ruari’s phone from him. The cheeky thing ran off with it, and Ruari went tearing after it, and I could not stop laughing—like, tears running down my face, can’t breathe because I’m laughing so much. We never got it back, his phone.

We had a day trip too to one of the nearby smaller islands, Nusa Penida. A day trip from Bali. And we took so many photos, and Ruari was—he just really lit up. He’s always liked rugged, natural places, and we found so many of them, but they were just so different to anything we’d experienced.

Then we went to Lombok. [She takes a deep breath] We were traveling around there too, and well, I honestly don’t really remember much from before... before it happened. It’s strange, too, because my brain has just wiped out a lot of the specifics, the details. Like, place names. Where we were staying, what we saw, where we went. A lot of people have said that that’s ‘convenient,’ like it’s proof I did something bad—you’d know all about the things people are saying.

But I didn’t. I didn’t do anything bad or wrong.

Ruari and I were at the beach. We were together, even though people like you seem to think I was way inland and he wasn’t. But that’s not true. We were both on the beach.

We were holding hands. I had this new beach dress on—mainly because it was a really floaty material, and it covered my burnt shoulders and didn’t cling too much down my back either. My skin was still super bad from the sun, and though it hurt having any fabric against my body, it was the lesser of two evils.

Ruari was wearing his old swimming trunks. He had sunglasses on the top of his head, even though it was really bright. I was wearing mine. We were walking along, hand in hand. The sand was warm—and the sand was really white too, but closer to the water it had this pink tinge. I remember being just in awe at the colors—that’s one thing I do remember really well. The sea was so vivid, so blue. Like turquoise-blue. So clear. And the waves lapping in gave this white plume-effect. It was like being in a painting.

I think I was carrying my shoes. Sandals. Yes, because I dropped one and had to pick it up, and Ruari made a joke about it. I can’t remember what, but it was funny.

We were still laughing about it, maybe ten minutes later.

And I said to Ruari, “I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

And he smiled as he turned to face me. We stopped. I looked right into his eyes, and he brought his free hand up—we were still holding hands—and he touched my face, and he said, “Forever is now.”

He had a bit of sand in his hair, and he looked truly happy—properly happy.

We kissed.

I tasted the salt on his lips, and there was something about him that was so... magnetic. I didn’t want to let him go. Our arms were around each other—I guess I’d dropped my sandals again—and... and he was being careful where he put his hands, what with my sunburn, only it was like I couldn’t feel it.

Even though there were other people on the beach, right then, in that moment, there was only him and me. The two of us.

My heart just surged with my love for him. I was so overwhelmed by it, and being with him, embracing him like this, kissing, it just feltright.

Then something rumbled, and the beach just shook. Really badly. We both fell. Something hit the back of my head—his elbow, maybe, I don’t know. But then people were shouting. The locals, they were all running about—and the land was still shaking. And there was this deep rumbling sound that just drilled right through me. The tourists weren’t running, trying to move. They were screaming, panicking now, but I remember looking back up, at where there were like huts. Well, shops—that’s what they were. Like, open-fronted, with colorful, hand-painted signs saying that Indonesian food was available there. Or cold drinks. And some had clothing, all hanging down, almost like walls of the shops—because some of these huts were just like frames, really. So the things they were selling kind of made up the walls. Like the bags! I remember the bags. Really beautiful ones, all different colors and patterns—and they were shaking so much. Falling down.

I was looking to see how the locals were reacting, because something told me this was important.

A huge roaring sound filled the air—and every hair on the back of my neck stood up. I remember inhaling sharply, feeling my chest expand, but when I tried to speak, no sound came out.

But I knew what it was, just instantly. Just like that.

I looked out at the sea, and the water was drawing backward. Away from the shore. Like this huge hand had just pulled it all back. It was this really low tide, all of a sudden. You could see the ocean floor. I remember the fish. Actual fish—suddenly flopping about. And the reefs—the textures.

I couldn’t look away. There were rushing sounds in my ears, like the pounding of my own blood, as I stared. And it felt like an eternity, looking out, at the ocean floor.

Then there was...

[Silence for five seconds]

Summer Taylor-Braddon: A tsunami was coming. That was what it was. The locals were all moving inland, like, higher up. They were abandoning the wares they were selling, everything. Just moving. And shouting at the tourists, too.

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