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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/2097050-The-Island
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Drama · #2097050
A traveler has found the perfect life on a subtropical island.. or so she thinks.
"Bye Teach - May!" the last student gave a sheepish smile as he rose from his desk.
May grinned. "Bye Luca, see you tomorrow."
They were almost managing to call her by name instead of "Teacher" - a habit hardwired into them at school. Small victories.
She tidied her desk and wiped the blackboard. Slipping a notebook into her satchel she noticed an ungraded pile of dictations on a chair. She sighed and regarded it a moment. Then she gathered up her things, making a mental note to deal with it first thing tomorrow.
Sun drenched her as she emerged from the cool classroom. She inhaled the cinnamon air that wafted from the adjoining bakery, and set off towards the beach.
She picked at the small sea turtle on her inner right forearm. The tattoo was the result of several caparinhas and the glow that had enveloped her for the past few...weeks? Or was it months now? She had lost track.
She used to think matching tattoos were tacky. But when she had lain in the lumpy recliner with him beaming down at her, she'd been convinced.
"Oi, May!" two teenagers, a boy and a girl, whizzed past on a creaking bicycle. The girl balanced on the crossbar hugging a small puppy to her chest. Teeth pearly white against tanned skin, their faces radiated pure sunshine.
"Oi, meninos!" said May. She continued to marvel at how beautiful the people were in this place. She had drawn the conclusion that it was a combination of genetics, Vitamin D, and the sheer happiness that came with life on a picturesque subtropical island. Her own meek caucasian features and mousey brown hair often made her feel like a mullet swimming by a dazzling coral reef.
She stepped onto the beach, kicked off her flip-flops and curled her toes into warm sand. How had she felt content before living here? She recalled the day she arrived on the island. Emerald mountain tops high overhead as the ferry approached the wharf. The first sip of coconut juice in her mouth. Angelina and Fabios' bear-hugs as they welcomed her into their home.
A two-month gig turned into six, turned into a permanent position. The climate alone made May feel like a different person; a happy person. Life was smooth and gentle, yet fascinating. And the locals received her like one of their own. Making friends never came naturally to May, but here it was effortless: no appraising eyes; no judgement. As soon as you met someone they were your friend, end of story.
So she stayed. The pay was low but enough to live on, and she adored the work. She was content with fewer belongings. Angelina and Fabio charged her peanuts for her room at their house, and often shared their meals with her. It was home.
And then came another reason to stay. Bruno's brother Julio would occasionally pick him up from class, soon he came every other day, then every day. He arrived ten minutes early, and lingered afterward. Dazzled by his green eyes, she couldn't help but notice they rested on her longer than the others.
"You can enroll at the school, you know," she said every few days. He responded with his signature mute smile. It was maddening.
May paced along the sand, savoring the warmth underfoot. She let her mind drift like a nomadic jellyfish, sailing in and out of reveries. Her gaze wandered between the golden sand and the passersby. A young family was nestled beside a rocky outcrop, a patchwork of towels and cangas spread beneath them. The man stood up with bucket in hand, and marched into the shallows, tailed by the young boy. The boy bleated with delight as he entered the water. The woman reclined on her elbows, rounded belly visible under a cotton dress.
She hadn't told Julio yet. It was only a suspicion, there was no evidence to prove it. Because I haven't taken a test yet, May reminded herself. She had had scares in the past. But this was more than a scare. She'd had to leave the classroom to vomit twice this week.
She spotted the site of their first kiss about one hundred metres ahead. It was the least awkward first kiss she had ever had. Afterwards he had laughed and lifted her up in his arms (such an underrated move, she thought). They had fallen in love rapidly, spending every minute they could together. She smuggled him into her room because, though she knew Fabio and Angelina wouldn't protest, she could only stretch their hospitality so far.
She realised they had been careless, so wrapped up in each other that they sometimes overlooked basic precautions. Would it be so bad? She loved Julio, and she wasn't getting any younger.

May sought out a comfortable patch of sand and unrolled a towel. She sat down and hugged her knees. A stray dog trotted up, paused to sniff her, and then continued down the beach.
May closed her eyes. After about fifteen seconds she heard a voice.
"Beautiful day."
An old lady had plonked herself about ten metres to May's left.
"Yes, it's lovely," May nodded in agreement.
"Sundown's gonna be gorgeous this evening, I hope you've got someone special to share it with," she winked at May.
May's cheeks warmed. Who was this stranger interrupting her meditation? She knew this kind of chatter was standard, but something was different about this woman. Maybe it was the way her eyes flicked about, avoiding contact with May's. Or maybe it was a familiar lilt in her voice.
"Probably the most romantic place on the island, when there's a decent sunset," she continued.
English! May was surprised by her delay in recognizing it. Not just English, but native English. May was unable to place the accent. She peered at the woman, who wore a white tunic that covered her knees, with a modern but worn denim jacket. Tousled grey hair brushed her shoulders, all of her exposed skin was freckled and brown. Frown and smile lines criss-crossed her face and a single shell pedant hung low on her chest.
"I've been here almost forty years," the woman said in answer to May's quizzical look.
"It's paradise," May said.
"That's what I thought." The woman turned away. May waited for her to continue, but she didn't.
"Where are you from?" asked May.
"Doesn't matter anymore," she said, "I left a long time ago."
Something in her voice gave May a tug of nostalgia. She was unsure what for.
"Why? Why'd you leave, I mean."
"Oh, you know, met a boy, had a kid, the usual nonsense."
The words stung May, whose turn it was to look away.
"He enlisted about ten years after, passed in battle. Then my boy went as soon as he was old enough. They never found his body."
"I'm so sorry," May looked back at the woman, who was studying the ocean. She didn't know what war she was talking about, but thought it wasn't a good idea to ask.
"I better get going," the lady said abruptly.
With some difficulty she pushed off the sand and got to her feet. She removed her denim jacket and slung it over her right shoulder.
"Have a wonderful evening. And don't forget to skype home once in a while," she gave a weak grin. There was such a sadness about her that May felt guilty about her prior annoyance.
"Tchau."
"Tchau."
Strange.

After an hour of deliberation, May decided to go to the drug store and purchase a home pregnancy test. Her Portuguese was fairly fluent by now, but her words were shaky and unsure as she told the woman at the counter what she wanted. When she held it in her hand, impatience overcame her and she fled home, heart jumping around her chest.
Fabio was drinking coffee on the patio, book in hand.
"Ol chica." His voice was a cheerful growl.
"Olmo, eu tenho pressa," she lied. She wasn't in a hurry, just desperate to know the answer. She hurried into the house.
In the bathroom, she tore open the box and skimmed the directions. She followed them, and then waited on the toilet seat. She pressed her elbows into her knees which bounced up and down with anticipation. The plus sign materialised within seconds. May stared.
Proof.
Her gaze shifted to the scabbed tattoo visible on her forearm. Her pupils dilated, and her heart rate quickened.
It was the briefest glimpse, when the woman had lifted her jacket... a deliberate gesture.
Her head throbbed. Prescient images flooded her mind.
She stood up, the motion steadfast with resolve.
"Time to go," she said to no one.
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