Page 8 of Death of the Author

“Thanks,” she said. “Are you one of Jackie’s cousins?”

“Of course I am.” He laughed.

“It’s so obvious,” she said.

“Why’d you even bother?”

She was grinning. “Small talk is a shitty ritual.”

“I’m Msizi.”

“Zelu.”

She shook his hand and he didn’t let go.

“Want to go see the water?” he asked.

Of course she did.

She let him wheel her onto the expanse of beach behind the hotel, and when the going got too difficult, she allowed him to carry her so they could be near the water. Several guests had left the reception to walk along the beach, so they weren’t alone. But in the darkness of night, they might as well have been. When the two of them had gone far enough to escape the sightline of the venue and were close to the water, they lay on the cool sand, neither of them worried about their clothes.

“I’m never wearing this damn dress again, anyway,” she said.

“I’ll definitely wear this suit again, but sand will not destroy it,” he said.

He had soft lips and strong hands, and he wasn’t timid when he touched her. In the darkness, there was privacy, so Zelu relaxed and for a while, she went somewhere else. It was good. He was good. And he went somewhere else, too. She always knew how to make them see galaxies.

“Can you feel that?” he asked breathily in her ear.

She hated that question so much. Not the sentiment—the question. Because shecouldn’tfeel it. Not on a physical level. There was nothing. Just flesh, disconnected from her in a way that she still hotly resented, even after twenty years. She closed her eyes and traveled deeper into her mind while her muscles relaxed. Usually, her body could still respond, in its disconnected way, and she’d learned how to navigate this over the years. Even when it didn’t, the men she had sex with never complained. There were other ways. But tonight, according to him, her body was responding. It liked him... and so did she.

“Shush,” she said, concentrating. On his shallow breath, on the roughness of the short hairs on his head, on his name, on the sand he allowed into his suit, on his quickening heartbeat, on his full lips, on his firm chest. She sighed and he moaned.Yes, Msizi.

Afterward, they sat and gazed at the stars for a while. Both quiet. Comfortable with each other. Listening to the water and the sound of laughter and splashing farther along the dark beach. Somewhere behind them, the dancing continued at the reception, people cheering for the DJ when he put on some Fela.

“I used to want to be an astronaut,” she said. She touched the necklace he wore, a simple tooth-shaped piece of obsidian.

“Used to?”

“Look at me,” she said, motioning to her legs.

He shrugged. “Never too late.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “A dolphin should not seek to be a leopard.”

He looked at her hard and Zelu waited, expecting.

“I think I like the Caribbean,” he said.

She smiled, pleased that he’d changed the subject. Smart man. “Me too,” she said. “Especially here.”

“I’ve never been outside of South Africa until three days ago.” He rubbed his temples and shook his head. “What have I been doing with my life?”

“Any specific reason?”

“Yeah, it’s expensive,” he said. “Jackie paid for my ticket here. I just launched a tech start-upandI’m just finishing grad school. Couldn’t afford coming here, otherwise.”

“Jackie’s such a good person.”

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