It was around four o’clock. No matter how Jim adjusted the lounge chair on the terrace, the sun kept glaring into his eyes. He should have rolled out the awning, but he was too lazy. He felt around the stone floor, hoping to grab hold of his shirt. No luck. Annoyed, he huffed and covered his face with his two fleshy arms. At least his excess weight was good for something.
Just as he finally settled in comfortably, his stomach growled. Damn it. He didn’t want to get up. There was still half a pizza on the kitchen counter, and it would have hit the spot. But, of course, that would mean getting up, and he wasn’t in the mood for that. He tried to fall asleep. If he could manage to nap for half an hour, maybe he’d feel like moving afterward.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Jesus! Who’s the lunatic playing padel in the scorching sun? Are they crazy? No one goes to the courts after six from the end of April onward. You’d go mad in the heat. And here they are, banging away at four in the afternoon. Yeah, keep slamming the ball against the glass harder, idiot, maybe you’ll wake up the whole neighborhood. Must be some dumb tourist who doesn’t want to go home without claiming they exercised during the trip.
Below Jim’s balcony, across the street, were two padel courts. Trainings usually started at eight in the morning and stopped around noon, resuming again in the evening, at least during the warmer months of the year. From November to March, the constant sound of bouncing balls and the rattling of the fence and plexiglass surrounding the court filled the air. Jim couldn’t wait for the heat to finally kick in so the street would be a bit quieter.
He got up and lit a cigarette in frustration. He leaned against the terrace railing, watching the two players with boredom. It looked like they were just hitting the ball back and forth, nothing serious. Definitely worth disturbing people’s rest for that. A man and a woman were playing on the shadier court, though the two tall trees didn’t provide any protection for them at that time. The woman was very clumsy, as if she wasn’t even watching the ball but staring at the houses opposite her instead. After a few minutes, Jim lost his patience and turned his back to the street.
***
Tina wished her kid’s tennis lesson was scheduled for six. That way, they wouldn’t have to spend the hour waiting in the blazing heat. They lived twenty minutes away from the sports center by car, so it wasn’t worth going before it ended. She and her husband rented a padel court to get some exercise themselves. At first, she enjoyed it, but since May had arrived, running around in the scorching sun had become unbearable.
And this day, she had a headache. Not a severe one, but she felt the pressure. She moved slowly, her reaction time constantly increasing. She was becoming more and more irritated. She didn’t want to spend the time stumbling and fumbling around. She might as well have been sitting in the car, tapping away on Duolingo.
Before the next serve, she paused and took a few deep breaths. She tried to block out the outside world: the heat, the pain, everything. She hit the ball. And then she spotted the enormous, crumpled, naked body leaning against the opposite balcony’s railing. She lowered her racket, narrowly missing being hit in the face by the returning ball. It wasn’t Tina’s skill that saved her, just pure chance.
Who was that rude brute, standing naked and watching the players below? Didn’t he realize he could distract them? And anyway, why did he feel the need to show off his body like that? These tourists were crazy. They didn’t want to go home without burning their skin; otherwise, they couldn’t brag about what a great place they’d spent their vacation in. Despite her grumbling, her husband couldn’t care less about the naked, smoking lump of flesh. He didn’t even turn around, even though Tina had described in detail the tiny tuft of hair poking out from under the rolls of fat.