Page 8 of Status Undefined
“You’re Israeli. Does that mean you have a camel parked in your driveway?”
“I wish. Taxis are getting really expensive.”
After two hours of cleanup, most of which Daniel spent taking photos and videos rather than picking up plastic bottles and junk, we went over to a stand to buy a coconut. We didn’t take straws because we’d seen enough plastic for one day. We sat down on some rocks and alternated taking sips from the coconut. Daniel made a face after every sip but didn’t complain. It occurred to me that he was being polite so as not to make me feel even worse after the colossal failure of my choice of location. Despite what he said, I didn’t feel that cleaning plastic garbage off a beach was the most stellar second date.
“So why couldn’t you sleep last night?” I asked him finally. The question had been in the back of my mind all day.
“Too many thoughts.”
“About?”
“The future. I really enjoy the life I’m living, but I can’t fully enjoy the present when I’m worried about the future.”
“Why does the future worry you?”
“Mostly not knowing. No 20-year-old knows how many kidsthey’ll have, when they’ll get married or if they’ll get sick. But most know where they’ll live, and that theywillget married and have kids. They also know what they want to study to prepare them for their career of choice. They belong in the culture and society that made them. They like the rules, or at least they’re used to them.”
“And you?”
“I feel like I want a lot of contradictory things. If I choose one I have to give up another. So I don’t choose, and I don’t know what the future holds. Sucks that we only live once, huh?”
“I know people who think once is more than enough.”
“Yeah. I know I sound ungrateful for my great life. No need to remind me.”
“That’s not what I meant. I was trying to say that you’re in a good place because you want a future. It’s not a given.”
“I hope it’s ok to ask; have you ever felt you don’t want a future?”
“Kinda, yeah. Life’s complicated. Want to tell me about your contradictory desires? Maybe we can figure out a solution together.”
“I will tell you. But not right now. This isn’t the time.”
Our eyes met. Two strangers with things to hide, longing to understand each other. How could he tell me what he was thinking if I didn’t trust him enough to tell him my secrets? But no. I wasn’t ready yet.
We stopped talking and watched the sun dip into the water. It got quite cool, and I shivered. Daniel noticed, took a towel out of his bag and draped it around me. I thanked him and he put his arm around me as well. A few minutes later he took out his iPhone and began photographing the sunset and, for some reason, me. I told him to stop because I looked pitiful wrapped up in a towel. His shots of the sunset were somehow even more beautiful than the real thing. We made our way down to thesand, Daniel taking my outstretched hand to help me down off the rocks. A good exercise in learning to trust, I told myself. The problem was that I didn’t want to let go of his warm hand. Hard to explain. It felt like a magnetic force, or maybe a magical one, made holding his hand feel so amazing. Just holding his hand. Uh oh. I remembered that he could see right through my jellyfish self and tried to think about something else. But once we were down off the rocks, he didn’t let go. I looked down at our clasped hands, and then at him.
“Hey, look,” he sounded serious. “We don’t have a lot of time and there are two options. Either we enjoy being good friends in the here and now, and perhaps remember each other someday when you meet some other American, or I meet some other Israeli. The other option is that we become more than friends, in the present. That you trust me not to hurt you, not to be scared off by your secrets. That we see what we have here. We don’t know what the future holds. I can’t promise anything, but at least we’ll know we gave it a shot and don’t have to wonder what we missed out on. What do you think?”
My eyes met his inviting blue ones. The fear of being hurt again pounded in my ears, but sometimes it’s not about being rational. There was only one option – to surrender to his soft lips. The kiss was a fireworks display bursting into the sky. The world disappeared and an explosion of long-buried emotion coursed through me, engulfing me in feelings I had never had before. Life was worth living after all, if I could feel this way.
December 6
(visa expires in 39 days)
When I got back from the beach I dropped in on the Arielis. I was in such a good mood; I didn’t want to be alone. Naama and Eli were in the kitchen preparing dinner. I plonked myself down on the sofa and turned on the TV. I liked watching TV at their place because they had Israeli channels. I only had Netflix.
Keren popped her head out of her room to see who was there.
“Aren’t you tired from cleaning all day?”
“What?”
“I know you were cleaning beaches today.”
“How do you… ooh.”
“Dimwit. So many beautiful places in Phuket and you take him to a filthy beach!?”
