The wind picked up the moment her feet touched the wet sand, as if it had sensed that the woman in her late sixties had begun her daily five-kilometer walk along the long, 1,100-meter stretch of beach. The sun blazed down just as it did on almost every day of the year. Despite the cool breeze, she could feel the strong rays on her brown, wrinkled skin.
As on every blessed day, she walked non-stop back and forth on the oceanfront, which was filled with yellow sand. Just like every other time, she didn’t glance around during her walk. She had no interest in the faces, the exposed breasts of women, the running fathers and children. She had no desire to meet acquaintances and engage in small talk, which would take at least half an hour, if not more. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but notice the couple who passed her every Wednesday, even though she didn’t want to. She pretended not to notice, though. The tall, blonde woman always tried to greet her with a wide smile. The man in the beret would also make a greeting motion when they crossed paths.
But Paulina didn’t make acquaintances. She never did.
She wished she never had.
Images of the man who had slammed the front door shut behind him ten years ago and the granddaughter who had been taken far away by her mother constantly flashed through her mind. His last angry words, the girl’s laughter mixed with the screeching of seagulls and the roar of the crowd on the beach. She had to walk, it was essential.
As long as she could, she ran and climbed the hills and rocks of the island. When her doctor warned her that her heart could only handle leisurely walks, she had to change her routine.
She would have gladly departed for the afterlife, but she had to stay. What if her granddaughter came to see her someday? She couldn’t afford not to be there with open arms.
Did that tall, blonde woman even realize how lucky she was?
The two of them walked hand in hand past her every Wednesday, hoping she would notice them. Of course, she noticed. She wasn’t stupid or blind. But she no longer made acquaintances.
Peter was different. If he weren’t there, she would have drowned a long time ago. Peter was like oxygen, keeping her alive. He talked to her, occasionally accompanying her on her silent, monotonous walk. Sometimes, when she felt her strength waning, he would take her out to dinner. Peter was good to talk to. He knew how to speak to her in a way that made her feel everything was perfectly fine and there was no gaping void in her chest. Peter, like a true, good neighbor, always checked in on her. He asked if she needed anything from the store. He accompanied her on major shopping trips. If something broke, he fixed it. If something needed drilling, he did it. There was no need to ask; Peter simply knew what she needed.
Sometimes they smoked cigarettes and had beers while gazing at the sunset.
However, this Wednesday, the tall blonde and the man in the beret did not appear. Paulina’s stomach tightened. This was exactly why she didn’t make acquaintances. Because people sooner or later disappeared from her life. And she would be left behind with aching chest, staring blankly into nothingness. Yet, against her will, she had noticed them.
She called them Dawn and Thomas. She even gave them names even though she didn’t want to, and then, lo and behold, they’re gone.
She desperately wanted to tell all this to Peter, but he would surely think she was crazy. How could she explain that she hadn’t seen Dawn and Thomas in a long time, even though that wasn’t their real names? She didn’t even know who they were. What a crazy thing. For five kilometers, she hoped to catch a glimpse of the colorful, striped bikini and the white hat out of the corner of her eye.
Today, she would act as if she weren’t home. True, Peter would know that she was inside. He knew all of Paulina’s tricks by now. But today, he wouldn’t open the door. She would wait until the man gave up and went to bed. Then she would sit alone on the terrace with a pear-lime beer and light a cigarette.
Calima or not, she set out, even though her doctor had warned her to stay inside during such weather. He had requested her to carefully close her windows and stay put. He had instructed Paulina to ask her partner (where did he get the courage to call Peter that?) to take care of everything if necessary. She had even been told to forget about walking on days like this. But it was Wednesday. She couldn’t not go. If she hadn’t died for her granddaughter’s sake, she could at least do this much for Dawn and Thomas. The ungrateful pair she hadn’t seen in a month.
Peter patiently knocked for minutes. He knew that Paulina stood behind the door with her mouth tightly shut, as if fearing her breath would be heard. However, her presence could be felt even outside the door. According to Peter, even the hallway had a different vibration when Paulina was in the apartment.
It had been the second month since she didn’t walk on the beach on Wednesdays. On these days, she preferred to trek kilometers on the other side of the highway, along the hillside. It didn’t matter where she went; she just didn’t want to feel the absence of the tall, blonde, and beret-wearing couple at the beach.
Paulina began her walk in the wet sand with an unusually good mood. She didn’t know why, but she had woken up cheerfully. She had always liked Mondays because, while others were groaning sleepily over the end of the weekend, she eagerly left her home. She couldn’t wait for the refreshing waves of the fragrant ocean to caress her feet. On this particular day, she had already knocked on Peter’s door in the morning to invite him for dinner that evening. Unlike her usual self, she even thought about what to wear for the dinner. She wanted to look pretty.
She glided through the silky sand, head down as usual.
The sound that sent a shiver through her entire body made her lift her head suddenly. Her hand rose involuntarily, and she waved to Dawn and Thomas, who were passing nearby, laughing and frolicking amid the wild waves caused by the passing ferry.