Under the Bali Moon

by Grace Octavia

  Zena could hardly look at Adan across the dinner table.

  And he hardly looked at her.

  The news she had, the news he knew she’d been given at the infirmary, was about to change everything. It had to. How could it not?

  After dinner, Zena stood in the mirror of her black cocoon remembering the laughs she’d had with Adan before Zola’s accident. How something as simple as surfing in the Indian Ocean had become a kind of temporary peacekeeping activity between the two in a time of war. Adan hadn’t seemed like an enemy then. He didn’t seem all-powerful. Or all evil. He didn’t want to hurt her. He was just a man with brown skin and a smile she knew well.

  Zena remembered his reaching for her in the barrel. Her reaching back. Him saying he hadn’t been there wrapped in water with her, and then the vision of him in the barrel being clearer than it was when it happened. Was he telling the truth about wiping out? Why would he lie? And if he wasn’t there, what had she seen? Was she seeing what she wanted to see?

  “I needed you! I needed you to be there for me!” Zena was standing face-to-face with Adan at the door of his villa at Mahatma House. When she felt these words boiling in her gut in the mirror, she’d run out of her room and across the property in her panties and a tank top to say this to him—to his face. “I needed you more than anything. More than some stupid degree and some stupid dream of being a lawyer. I needed you to stay with me.”

  “Zena, I know. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I—”

  “No! Wait! I’m not here for that. I’m not here for an apology. I’m here to tell you that I know now. I know that as much as I needed you, Adan, you couldn’t be there for me,” Zena said. “It wasn’t your job to be there for me.” Zena paused as she began to cry, feeling so much hurt she’d tried to keep hidden in her hate of Adan. “You’re not my father. You can’t make up for his failures. You had your own life to live.”

  “No. I didn’t.”

  “What?”

  “Look, why don’t you come in and we can talk about this.” Adan glanced down at Zena’s nude legs. “I can give you some pants to put on.”

  “Oh, my God!” Zena was embarrassed by her lack of clothes and remembered her rush to Adan. She hadn’t felt a thing—not one chill or breeze against her legs in the heat of the night. “What am I doing? Why am I here?” She tried to turn to leave, but Adan stopped her.

  “No. Don’t go. I understand.” Adan pointed down at his jeans and the flip-flops on his feet. “I was actually on my way to you. To talk to you.” He grinned at her. “But I took some time to put on the proper attire.”

  Adan pulled Zena inside and gave her a pair of his jogging shorts.

  They agreed to walk to the shore behind the villa, where they could talk.

  There was a cool breeze there from the water, but it still did little to contend with the heat that was emanating from the sand that had been baking all day.

  “I know I sounded like a complete jerk. I couldn’t think of anything else to say, though,” Adan said, recalling his explanation to Zena about why he was supporting Alton and Zola’s wedding outside Madame Lucille’s Lace weeks before.

  Now that Zena understood his predicament with Zola, his flimsy and seemingly selfish excuse sounded plausible.

  “I wanted to tell you to mind your business, but I know you too well for that,” Adan said after he and Zena had a good laugh at her digging into him that day.

  “I wasn’t that bad,” Zena said. “I was just looking out for my little sister.” She looked at Adan and said with clear sincerity, “And I’m glad you looked out for her when she needed you. I can’t imagine what she went through.”

  “I was thankful I could be there. You know? I meant what I said earlier—she’s like my sister. I don’t want to ever see her in pain. And she did take the miscarriage pretty hard. The only thing that seemed to give her hope was the idea of someday marrying Alton and actually having a baby.”

  “So, that’s how you all came up with the wedding?”

  Adan answered, “Felt like a step in the right direction. We all know where those two are headed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people who love one another more than them.”

  There was an awkward pause and step as the word love settled between Adan and Zena. It was clear there was something more they needed to discuss that they just couldn’t. This was where they were comfortable—talking about other people and their love, but not what they’d had. Maybe that would be too much or too forward. Maybe it would break something in the new connection they might be forging. Both wondered this in step and in silence, but then Adan just stopped walking and looked up at the moon with a certain fire that gave Zena hope he might break that silence. Remembering everything Zola had told her at the infirmary, she was ready to hear something then. She was ready to tell her truth. She wasn’t over Adan. She hadn’t ever gotten over him or how it ended. She turned to look at the moon, too.

  “You remember that day?” Adan asked in a question with little detail, but still Zena knew his point of reference.

  “The corner of Sassafras Street and Blue Stone Road,” Zena announced.

  “Someone else had to see it,” Adan said, still transfixed on the glowy moon in Bali. “Never made sense to me that we were the only ones. I asked everyone, though. No one knew what I was talking about.”

  “A celestial event.” Zena had been standing behind Adan in the sand, but she stepped beside him when she said this.

  “An eclipse for two,” Adan repeated their science teacher Mr. Palabas’s explanation of their spectacular view of the sky’s magic.

  Zena didn’t know what to say to that. She thought she could simply nod in agreement, but then that felt wrong, so she just stood there staring at the moon with Adan.

  After a while, he said, “Zena, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much that sometimes I felt like it was going to kill me. That’s how bad it ached.”

  Zena heard Adan’s breathing quicken as if he’d just dropped something heavy from his arms.

  “I had to say that,” he said, and then he took another deep breath. “I had to say it.” He turned to Zena and looked at her profile.

  “Don’t!” Zena ordered when she felt he was about to speak again. Tears were already streaming down to her chin. She didn’t know what she was afraid of hearing, what she didn’t want to hear. But with those words from Adan, she felt in her heart that same aching he was describing. She knew it well, too. The feeling of being apart. The feeling of being without him had been too much on too many days. And right then, recalling it all was like pouring salt on those injuries.

  “I have to,” Adan said. “I have to say it all. And I know you don’t want me to respond to what you said earlier, but I have to. I have to tell you that I should’ve been there for you. Your heart was my responsibility. I knew you needed me. And I was a fool for leaving you.”

  “But we were just kids. You were right. We needed to go out into the world. And follow our dreams,” Zena said with Adan’s old words in her mouth.

  “No. We were kids who were lucky enough to have found our dreams in each other. I know that now. I’ve spent my whole adult life paying for not seeing that. That’s why I couldn’t get married. I called it off because I realized I was just making up for not having you. I was just pretending that everything was great, but it never would be. Not if you weren’t there.”

  Adan went to stand between Zena and her locked view on the moon.

  She closed her eyes to avoid his presence.

  “Look at me,” he said softly.

  Tears continued to escape from her closed eyes.

  “No,” Zena uttered.

  “Look at me!” Adan began to wipe Zena’s tears and slid his hand beneath her chin. “Please, just see me.”

  He lifted her head, and Zena slowly o
pened her eyes.

  “I know I’m supposed to be cool. I know I’m supposed to have a more elaborate plan to win you back and pay off your pain, but I don’t have that. All I have is the truth,” Adan said. “Yes, I supported this wedding because I wanted to help Zola and Alton. But I knew there was no way Zola would do this without you. And I wanted to see you.” Adan moved his hand to caress Zena’s cheek. “And I wanted to see you so I could say these things to you.”

  “Why?” Zena asked.

  “Because I want to be with you.”

  “Be with me? But we haven’t been together in nine years. It’s been so long. Too long.”

  “Stop it, Z. Stop it with that wall! Just stop,” Adan said, and then he started crying, too. “I’m Adan! You can let it down. I’m here. I’m here. I’m here. And I love you. I love you so much.”

  Did Adan pull Zena to him for that kiss that followed these words? Or was Zena the one who pulled Adan to her lips? Neither would ever know or remember. But it happened. It was as if the space between them in the sand evaporated and their toes touched and then their lips connected and then there was a kiss.

  Zena closed her eyes and felt Adan’s arms wrapping around her, holding her up and steadying her against his body. She didn’t want to let go of his lips. She didn’t want to be released from his hold. But still, she wondered, What is this? What is happening?

  She opened her eyes to see him, to confirm that this was him and look at Adan as he kissed her so passionately.

  And he was there. Adan was before her with his eyes closed and joy written all over his face.

  Twinkling or sparkling behind his right ear caught Zena’s eye. She refocused and saw something that looked like fireworks, but then she knew it couldn’t be, so she broke the lip-lock from Adan and ordered him to turn around.

  “Look! Look!” she screamed, pointing at the shining clear black night.

  As soon as Adan turned, in one second there was a flicker and pop, and two shooting stars raced across the sky.

  “Did you see that? Did you see that?” Zena rushed out, still in shock at what she’d just seen.

  “Yes! I did! I did! I think it was a shooting star—two shooting stars!” Adan said with his voice half-confused or in awe.

  “Oh, my God! I can’t believe we just saw that!” Zena was ecstatic then and jumping in the sand. She turned to Adan and said with significant cadence, “We just saw that. We just saw that together. Right as we kissed.”

  Adan began to lower his head to kiss Zena again, but then he had a thought: “Wait!” he said, stopping himself right before Zena’s anticipating lips. “I wonder if anyone else saw it!”

  “Who cares? It was just for us,” Zena said before pulling Adan’s face down to hers and kissing him again.

  Inside Adan’s room, there were no strangers, no nervous energy, no pretense or discussion about what should or could happen.

  With the sound of waves rolling in the distance and the moon peeking into the slightly slanted shutters, in the darkness of the villa, Adan slid off Zena’s clothes and knelt down to study her body as if it was something he’d cherished but lost and then found again. He closed his eyes as he kissed her stomach and caressed the outsides of her thighs. Into her navel he spoke of love and never letting go again. Still on his knees, he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head over the top of her vagina. He held her and waited as if he was meditating or praying. He held Zena there in that position for so long she didn’t want to move him. To say a thing. To ask a thing.

  Soon, Zena began to cry again. She palmed the top of his head and said, “I forgive you and I missed you. And... I love you, too.”

  Chapter 8

  Zola was sitting at the breakfast table, holding Alton’s hand so tightly neither could eat their food. She looked as if nothing happened the day before and was so perky and cheerful no one wanted to bring it up. While it was another lazy, hot morning in Bali, it was her wedding day and all knew she should enjoy the bliss moments like this could bring without interruption.

  Over postbreakfast green tea, as the foursome debated the event of the double shooting star, Zena watched Zola and thought of how different she seemed than any other bride on their wedding day, at least the ones Zena had seen. Most were rushing and running, rummaging and ruling over everything. Their grooms were hidden away; their world was an oiled machine of pomp and circumstance that had to go just as planned. This circus grew and evolved until it ended with the bride looking exhausted and tuned out, ready to escape to the refuge of a honeymoon hours away. But here was Zola sitting at the breakfast table in a thin turquoise sundress they’d purchased in the market downtown. Her hair was up in her topknot and she had two ridiculously large hibiscuses tucked behind each ear. She looked like some Bohemian garden nymph, completely relaxed and just happy. She was already on her honeymoon and neither bothered nor vexed about what lay ahead.

  “Bruh, there’s no such thing as a double shooting star!” Alton teased Adan. “It just doesn’t make sense. The spontaneity behind the single scientific event of one star shooting across the sky—and while two people are watching—is just too rare for two to occur at once—and, again, while two people are watching.”

  “What, are you an astronomer now? You hardly graduated from Clark Atlanta, and now you sound like freaking Neil deGrasse Tyson,” Adan said, and everyone laughed.

  “I watch documentaries on Netflix. I know many things!” Alton followed up, and then the laughter grew at his response.

  “Seriously, though, there were two shooting stars. I saw it, too,” Zena confirmed. “It was so fast. But I saw it. I know I saw it.”

  By then, Zena and Adan had questioned most everyone at Mahatma House, including the security guard and the beautiful long-haired girl who showed up each morning to do the flower offering at the villa’s traditional altar. They wanted to know if anyone had seen the shooting stars. No one had seen a thing. And two people, the chef and the woman who cleaned Adan’s room, confirmed that they’d indeed been looking at the sky at that exact hour and hadn’t witnessed anything out of the norm.

  “Maybe you did—maybe you didn’t,” Zola said. “The real question is, why were both of you looking up at the sky at the same time after midnight? That’s what I want to know.” Zola grinned and looked from Adan to Zena. They were sitting beside one another and looking very cozy. They weren’t touching, but their bodies were still leaning into each other with enough normalcy to reveal the tale from the night before.

  Suddenly, they moved apart after hearing Zola’s question. Both felt the need to clear their throats. They looked like teenagers who’d been caught kissing.

  “What!” Zola’s grin grew to a full smile.

  “Did something happen?” Alton asked, intrigued by their behavior, too.

  “We just talked,” Adan answered with forced calm in his voice. He patted Zena on her back. “Just had a friendly chat on the beach.”

  Zola looked unconvinced and kept her big smile. “Friendly, huh? I bet it was. I bet it also describes why, when I came to Zena’s room this morning to drop off her maid of honor dress, she wasn’t there.”

  “Actually,” Zena followed quickly, “I’d gone for an early-morning jog.”

  Zola came back with, “Actually, I tripped over your sneakers when I walked into the room. Soooo...”

  Adan and Zena held in their laughter at being caught as Alton and Zola traded stares.

  Zena worked hard to shift the conversation from the topic of her whereabouts the night before by asking Zola and Alton about their wedding plans. They revealed that they’d decided to take a short walk through the village to the hut of a local Balian Tenung, a diviner, who would bless them before their ceremony.

  * * *

  After breakfast, Zola followed Zena back to her villa to try on their d
resses and have Zena braid her hair. The dresses had arrived that morning, and while Zola had already tried on her dress, Zena hadn’t even seen her dress.

  As soon as Zola closed the sliding door of the villa and turned around to Zena, she begged, “Tell me everything that happened! I want to know it all! Everything!”

  “Nothing happened. It was just a walk,” Zena said, knowing Zola was referring to the events with Adan.

  “You know I’m not stupid, right? I may have nearly killed myself in the ocean yesterday, but I didn’t incur any brain damage. I’m operating with all my cards in the deck!”

  Zena plopped down on the bed and sighed helplessly, the way a woman does when she’s resolved that she’s in love.

  “Everything happened,” she said. “Everything.”

  “Oh, girl, this sounds too good!” Zola sat down beside Zena and leaned over for gossip. “I’ll get to that second everything later, but give me the first everything now.”

  “You’re a mess. Look, he just told me he loves me and that he wants to be with me.”

  “I know all that, Zena. That’s not news. I’m asking for the goods. What did you say?”

  “I...I,” Zena stuttered to try to find her words to reveal what she’d said to Adan, but Zola stopped her.

  “Tell me the truth. Even if you didn’t tell him the truth. Tell me the truth. Tell me what you wanted to say,” the younger sister ordered wisely.

  Zena looked at Zola as if she was the big sister.

  “I said it. I admitted it.” She paused and remembered standing before Adan. “I admitted that I was in love with him. And that I’ve missed him. And I’ve been so sad without him. All these years.”

  Zola’s back stiffened, and she pulled Zena’s head to her chest. She kissed her forehead and smiled. Both knew the weight of Zena’s admission to Adan. This was an act of fearlessness from a brave woman, who mistakenly thought the most selfless thing she could do was keep Adan away, but the real fear to face was letting him back in. This was peeking under the bed to find ghosts.