Canary Island Song

by Robin Jones Gunn

  Someone needed to make the coffee. Willingly taking on the task, Carolyn made herself at home in the kitchen, and soon the fragrance of dark coffee filled the air, joined by the comforting scent of fresh bread turning warm and crisp in the toaster. With ease and contentment, Carolyn and her mother passed each other in and out of the bathroom, bedroom, and kitchen. It was dance lesson’s morning, and her mother was determined not to be late.

  They were just about ready to walk out the door to catch a taxi to Lydia’s home when the phone rang.

  “Let it ring,” Carolyn’s mother said. She had her purse in her hand and was ready to leave.

  “Are you sure? It might be important.”

  “And it might be one of my sisters.”

  Carolyn hesitated, looking at the phone and then back at her mom. Reluctantly, her mother gave in and picked up the phone on the fifth ring. By her tone, Carolyn could tell it was not one of the aunts. The call was short, and when Abuela Teresa hung up, she looked as if her morning energy source had been unplugged.

  “What is it, Mom? What happened?”

  “Nothing bad has happened. It was Lydia. She had to cancel the dance lesson for today. I am so disappointed.”

  If Carolyn doubted her mother’s enthusiasm for these lessons, all skepticism was put aside. It surprised her that the dancing meant that much to her mom.

  “What should we do instead? Would you like to go somewhere? We could go shopping.” Carolyn was thinking of finding something new at Curvas Peligrosas to wear tonight.

  Apparently her mother had forgotten Carolyn’s shopping request from last night because she said, “What would we shop for? You just bought groceries. I have everything I need, and more gifts than I can fit on my shelves.”

  “We can stay here, then. I’ll help you around the apartment. Is there anything that needs to be done?”

  “No. And I do not want to spend your visit cleaning out my closets or my cupboards.”

  “Okay, then what should we do?”

  “Vamos a la playa.”

  Carolyn knew that Spanish phrase from her last visit. “You want to go to the beach?”

  “Yes, let’s go to Las Canteras. I have wanted to spend a day at the beach for a very long time. It is not something anyone else likes to do as much as I. That’s why I made Isobel take me to my birthday party early. I wanted to sit and watch the people. But we sat for only ten minutes. She had no patience with me. She insisted we get to the restaurant, and there we sat instead of on a beach chair in the sand.”

  “Well, then, that will be my gift to you. We will go to the beach, rent lounge chairs, and watch people all day. I will have all the patience in the world.”

  Before Carolyn’s mother could reply, the phone rang again. She answered on the second ring this time, and a smile rose on her soft cheeks. “It’s so good to hear your voice. How are you? Yes, my birthday was wonderful. I received your card. Thank you. Yes, she is. Your mother is right here.”

  “Tikki?” Carolyn took the phone, feeling her stomach do a pirouette. “Hi, honey. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes and no. Do you have a minute?”

  “Of course.” Carolyn stepped over to the sofa and sat down, ready for an explanation of the “yes” and the “no.”

  “First, how are you doing, Mom? Is everything going well there?”

  “It’s great. But what about you?”

  “Which do you want first? The good news or the bad news?”

  “Start with the bad.”

  “I was laid off.”

  Carolyn felt her shoulders slump. “How could that be? You just received the promotion.”

  “That was part of the problem. I was there for two days when the bank did a company-wide cut in all loan departments and, of course, last hired, first fired.”

  “Tikki, that’s awful.”

  “Well, not so awful. Here’s the good news. I have a new job at Starlight Bank, which is the one I wanted to work at originally. They’ve offered me a position as assistant branch manager, which is also great because that’s what I’ve been aiming for. It all happened so fast. I thought about it and prayed about it before giving Starlight a start date, and Mom, I decided I’m not going to start until May fifth.”

  “Okay.” Carolyn couldn’t figure out why Tikki sounded so thrilled with that start date. She would miss out on several weeks of income. “Why the delay?”

  “I decided that you’re not the only one who needs to get a life. I need to get a life too. So I’m coming to Las Palmas!”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow! I took some money out of my wedding savings account and thought, Why not? If Matthew is going to take his sweet time to propose, I’ll have all the money back in the account before I need it. I decided to do something life-changing with the money and knew I wanted to be with my mom and my grandmother. This is the perfect time. So I bought a ticket, and I’m coming. Can you or one of your aunts pick me up at the airport at four thirty? I’m on the same flight and airline you took.”

  Carolyn had no words.

  “Mom, are you still there?”

  “Yes, I’m here. I’m stunned.”

  Tikki’s enthusiasm went down a few notches. “Do you mind my coming? Am I interrupting your time with your mom?”

  “No, not at all. You’re welcome here. You know that. I’ll be at the airport to pick you up tomorrow.”

  “Great. And, Mom, how’s the weather? It’s pouring rain here.”

  “It’s perfect here. Eighties during the day.”

  “I can’t wait!”

  “Be safe.”

  Tikki laughed. “Okay, Mom, I’ll be safe. You be safe too. See you tomorrow.”

  Carolyn hung up and hardly knew what to think. At the forefront was a familiar feeling that came with her introverted nature. She felt as if her time and space were being invaded. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Tikki and want her to come, it was just that in the two days she had been there, Carolyn didn’t have to be anyone’s mother or anyone’s sister. She got to just be a daughter, the only daughter of Abuela Teresa for the moment. The rare gift of that focused time had been so restorative and refreshing that Carolyn didn’t want to share what she was experiencing with any of the other women in her family. Not even with her daughter.

  The other thought that came quick on the heels of her inclination to protect this time was the yet-to-be-defined Bryan piece. If part of the reason he had returned to Las Palmas, as her mother said, was to spend time with Carolyn, that was going to be more complicated with Tikki onboard. Tikki would want to go and see and do all she could while visiting, and that wouldn’t leave much time for seeing Bryan. Not that his objective was to spend lots of time with Carolyn. She didn’t pretend to know his objectives. She didn’t even know how long he was planning to stay.

  “Is everything all right with Tikki?”

  Carolyn looked up at her mother, who was now standing in front of the open window.

  “She has decided to come here, to Las Palmas. She arrives tomorrow afternoon.”

  Carolyn’s mother sat on the sofa. “Well, now, that does change things a bit, doesn’t it?”

  “It doesn’t have to. Whatever things you and I were planning to do in the next few days, I’m sure Tikki would enjoy doing them with us.”

  “Will she be okay sleeping here on the sofa, or do you think I should ask Isobel if she can stay with her?”

  “The couch will be fine. She likes sleeping on the couch when she comes to visit me.” Carolyn stood and walked across the room to return the phone to its recharger cradle. “I know my trip here was last minute and spontaneous, but this is really spontaneous. You know what? I wonder if she’s trying to prove something to Matthew.”

  “Is that her boyfriend?”

  Carolyn attempted to explain the intricate relationship Tikki and Matthew had shared for many years and the crossroads they were at since Tikki was ready to become engaged while Matt was lingering on the other side of th
e decision.

  “This will be a good time for her,” Carolyn’s mother said. “For Tikki and for all of us. She is a social butterfly like her father. Meeting all the relatives will be fun for her.”

  Carolyn gave her mom a second look. “Are you saying you don’t think I’ve enjoyed being around all the relatives?”

  “It tires you. You’re not a group or party sort of person. You never have been.”

  Carolyn didn’t know what to say. Her mother was right.

  “One never knows what a day will bring,” her mother said. “I thought I was going to Lydia’s for dance lessons, and instead, we’re going to the beach and out to dinner tonight, and my granddaughter is coming tomorrow. I feel as if my birthday celebration has been extended for the entire week. By the way, how long is Tikki staying?”

  “I don’t know. She didn’t say. I’m just glad you’re enjoying all this, and it isn’t frustrating you.”

  “Frustrating me? Oh, Carolyn, I spend hours and days all by myself, dreaming about what it would be like to have a social calendar filled with a week like this one. I’m in heaven. Come on, vamos a la playa!”

  Twenty minutes later the two of them were repeating the steps Carolyn had taken when she caught a taxi to Las Canteras. They were dropped off at the same spot where Carolyn had been let off two days earlier. The view was as pristine as it had been that day and the beach just as inviting. Only this time she was prepared to sit and relax, basking in the warm sun. The two women walked slowly down the boardwalk, arm in arm. Carolyn’s mother was the picture of contentment. This was her happy place.

  She led the way to a grouping of lounge chairs lined up in a roped-off area of the pale yellow sand. All the lounge chairs were white with royal blue pads. Only a dozen of the forty or more loungers were filled. Carolyn steadied her mother as she slipped off her shoes, and together they made their way through the warm sand to claim two of the lounge chairs facing the sea. An attendant came over and settled the rental price, which included an umbrella.

  The setup was ideal for them because it allowed Carolyn a little sun, if she wanted, while her mother remained in the shade, as she wanted. Carolyn stretched out beside her happy mother and smoothed coconut-scented sunscreen over her legs and arms.

  “If I fall asleep, don’t wake me unless you need something desperately,” Carolyn said half-jokingly and half-seriously. She saw this as her only day of vacation in which she could enjoy partial solitude. Once Tikki arrived, everything would change.

  Carolyn had been running various scenarios through her mind and was coming to a stronger place of acceptance and excitement about her daughter’s last-minute decision. This could well be the mother-daughter visit that Aunt Frieda had so strenuously pitched at Marilyn’s wedding. The golden opportunity might not present itself again for some time. Carolyn was resolved to enjoy every minute of it. For now, she was going to enjoy her personal quiet time and recharge her batteries.

  From across the sand, Carolyn heard someone cry out. She looked around. Few people were on the beach and enjoying the beautiful day, so it was easy to spot the man coming through the sand in shorts and white T-shirt. Over his shoulder was slung a wide strap that was fastened to either end of a small ice chest. The weight caused him to lean in a way that looked painfully unbalanced.

  “Aaaa-gua! Co-ca-co-la! Cer-ve-za! Aaaa-gua!”

  “Is he selling water?”

  “Yes.” Her mother reached for her purse. “Water, Coke, and beer. Would you like something?”

  “Sure, I’d like some water.” Carolyn reached for her purse as well, but her mother stopped her.

  “I’ll get this.” She lifted her arm as the beach vendor approached their area and waved him over to their chairs. With a friendly exchange of polite chatter and several euro coins, the man handed over two ice-cold bottles of drinking water.

  Carolyn could understand parts of their dialog due to the simplicity of their conversation. He said something about its being a beautiful day for the beach, and her mother agreed. Then she said her daughter had come all the way from America to be with her to celebrate her birthday. Agua Man smiled broadly at Carolyn, displaying his crooked teeth without shame and appearing honored to meet someone from America. He asked her where she was from, and she said, “San Francisco.”

  He nodded enthusiastically and then showed great appreciation when Carolyn’s mother tipped him for his services. Agua Man walked away still smiling and giving them a final wave. A few feet down the beach he called out again, “Aaaagua! Co-ca-co-la! Cer-ve-za! Aaaa-gua!”

  Carolyn watched him plow through the sand in his short socks and tennis shoes. “It sounds like a song, doesn’t it? The way he calls out. It’s almost a melody.” She softly repeated his call, starting out with a low voice and raising the end of “agua” to a long, held-out note.

  “You see why I love to come here?” Her mother stretched out her arm in a sweeping gesture. “All that is the best about my island home sings to me here. Listen, can you hear the song of the ocean? I have missed not coming here for so long.”

  Carolyn took in the sweeping view of the wide, curving shoreline and the easy-rolling waves. A coral reef protected this bay from any onslaught of crashing waves driven from the Atlantic. Here the water was just right for children to play in or to sit beside as they created sand castles.

  As her mother contentedly sipped her ice water and watched people, Carolyn thought about how little had changed on these islands for centuries. How many generations of children had come to this beach and played along the shore. To the far right was a picturesque view of a half-dozen small, wooden fishing boats turned underside up to dry in the warm sun. Each boat was painted a different bright color, chipped and faded with use but still evidence of the unique taste of the boat’s owner.

  Many of the houses that lined the shores were painted bright colors as well. A few shops, several hotels, and lots of sidewalk cafés stood shoulder to shoulder on the other side of the boardwalk. The few houses that remained tucked in between retained their painted shades of azure blue, canary yellow, and tangerine orange. The bright colors allowed the fishermen to spot their homes past the sand in the bay, as they returned from sea.

  On the boardwalk, not far from where Carolyn and her mother rested, stood a statue of a fisherman’s wife. The diminutive, round-figured woman in her dress and apron stood with both hands on her hips, fingers curled in a fist, as she squinted toward the ocean. Her well-crafted expression seemed to ask the ageless question many women knew so well: “Where is my man, and when is he coming back to me?”

  Carolyn empathized with the statue. She knew that feeling. She had spent years with her hands figuratively punched in at her hips, asking God why Jeff had been taken from her. The answer was always the same. Silence.

  “Are you all right?” her mother asked.

  “Yes.” Carolyn shifted her view off the statue and back to the ocean.

  “What were you thinking?”

  Carolyn knew there was no point in pulling back from the openhearted vulnerability the two of them had shared with such sweetness last night. “I was thinking about Jeff.”

  “I often think of your father when I come here.”

  “And you still miss him?”

  “Every day. He has never left my heart. You know that. Jeff has never left your heart either. He never will. That’s why he feels close in times like this. Every time I come to the beach, it’s as if I open up my heart and let it air out. When I do, your father is right there on the surface of all my happiest thoughts.”

  Carolyn reached over and gave her mother’s arm a comforting squeeze.

  Her mother lowered her sunglasses, looked at Carolyn, and said, “‘Al vivo la hogaza y al muerto, la mortaja.’”

  “And what does that clever adage mean, or do I want to know?”

  “You already know. You have been living this way since you arrived. This is for both of us. ‘We must live by the living, not by the dead.’” />
  Carolyn tucked away her mother’s sage advice. Live by the living and not by the dead. “Mom, what’s the one that Frieda always says about not putting the candle too close to the saint?”

  “That’s one of her favorites. She used to quote it whenever anyone would talk about our mother as if she had no flaws. ‘Ni tanto que queme al santo, ni tan poco que no lo alumbre.’ It literally means, ‘Put the candle not so close that it would burn the saint, nor so far that it will fail to light it.’”

  Not far from them several small children squealed with laughter. Her mother leaned back in the lounge chair and put her glasses back in place, ready to rest. Carolyn watched as the children scrambled up the side of the overturned fishing boats, calling out who was king of the hill. She knew she had held the candle too close to Jeff in the past. She didn’t want to ever hold it so far that it would fail to light up memories of him.

  Two little girls, too young for school, sat together at the edge of the wet sand under the watchful eye of their abuela. They were blissfully making sand pies with nothing more than a plastic cup and a spoon. All they had on were big girl panties. Their torsos were a toasted brown, their sun-kissed, chocolate hair pulled back in braids.

  Carolyn studied them, wondering if they might be twins. How different her life would have been here if their mother had managed to convince their father to move back here when she and Marilyn were young. Her mother had tried many times, but their father was convinced that America would provide better opportunities for his daughters, and so they stayed. She couldn’t help but wonder what sort of life she would have had if she had grown up here.

  The sun had so efficiently warmed her shoulders that Carolyn moved her chair closer to her mother’s to tuck in under the umbrella’s ample shade. For the next two hours, both Carolyn and her mother dipped in and out of sleep. Carolyn could feel her muscles relax and her thoughts lighten.

  When they woke, they gathered their tote bags and made their way through the hot sand to the nearest sidewalk café. Taking the last open table, they seated themselves under the shaggy palm frond umbrella that spread over the small, square table.