Sea Air

Home > Other > Sea Air > Page 9
Sea Air Page 9

by Meeringa, Jule

“Oh my God,” I moaned. “I can’t take any more!”

  Mathis laughed hoarsely and continued undeterred. When his tongue wandered over my thighs, I nearly fainted with passion. Delicately, he drove me to the peak of pleasure and then, just as I reached it, he entered me. Every cell in my body conformed to his rhythm and together we fell into the void.

  We spent the whole day in bed, unable to get enough of each other. Mathis left the bunk only to get us food or to open another bottle of prosecco.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.” Mathis’s fingers delicately traced the contours of my face. “What are we doing here, Nele?”

  “I didn’t think you were coming back,” I confessed, snuggling into the crook of his arm. “When you showed up at my door the other day, I’d just decided to leave. Without you, everything seemed so sad.”

  “It was the same for me. But I needed space so that I could make a decision. This all happened so suddenly. I tried to deny my feelings, but I couldn’t. I fell in love with you, Nele, and I’m powerless against that love. Maybe I should have sailed alone and tried to forget you. But I couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing you again. I had to come back. My God, how did we get into this mess?”

  Mathis looked so desperate; I tried to cheer him up with a laugh. “Things aren’t that bad, are they? We’ll have to find a way to make the best of things. Do we really want to spend these few days complaining about the fate that brought us together? I think fate did us a big favor.”

  “You’re the nicest gift fate ever gave me,” Mathis agreed. “But I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated than that. You’ve got your life and I’ve got mine. Your vacation will last . . . how many more days?”

  I calculated quickly. “Oh my God. Only three more days. Then what?”

  “‘Then what?’ is exactly what I’m talking about. That’s the problem.”

  “Every problem has a solution,” I told him.

  “I used to think so, too.”

  “You’re being awfully pessimistic.”

  “I’m just trying to be realistic, Nele. It won’t be easy to make this work. The more I thought about it these last few days, the more problems I saw ahead of us.”

  “Starting with your wife.” My voice shook a little.

  “My wife? No. We’re still legally married, but we went our separate ways long ago.”

  My heart started to race. “Well, then, what’s standing in our way?”

  “Plenty of things. That’s just one problem we won’t have.”

  “Well, it’s a big problem not to have!”

  He laughed. “Oh, my darling, you’re so right. Things could be a lot worse! Let’s save the problems for later and enjoy the days we have. I say we start immediately.”

  And we did.

  We sailed along the North Sea coast under glorious summer skies, heading southeast into the Wadden Sea. We passed islands with sandy beaches where seals lounged in pairs and welcomed us with big yawns. Gulls circled and screeched at us, then flew off with loud protests when they realized that we weren’t going to share our food with them.

  At ebb tide one morning, the Spieker ran aground. But when the water finally returned she came afloat again slowly, and we continued our days of lying lazily on the deck or taking long walks on the foreshore.

  During our walks, my appreciation for the sensitive ecosystem grew. Mathis seemed to know everything about the Wadden Sea—its history and characteristics, its flora and fauna, and its importance in the global ecosystem. I wished every biology class could include a section about the Wadden Sea. Every student should have to come here, I thought. As a student, I’d always wished schools would make practical, hands-on experience more of a priority. The average textbook might include a few photos and sketches of an animal or plant, but that was no substitute for seeing them in nature. I might have excelled more at the natural sciences if I’d been able to breathe in the scent of a flower or listen to a native bird warble cheerfully, or if I could have waded into the sea. It was no different with mathematics, physics, or chemistry, and the relevance of most exercises those teachers assigned had been lost on me. I could already tell after her first year of school that it was going to be the same for Paula. Mathis felt my pain.

  “I should have done things differently with my kids,” he said.

  “Did you have another choice?”

  “I could have made some other plan for our lives.”

  “You mean, emigrate?”

  “No, I wasn’t talking about moving away, although we could have done that. I meant I should have traveled much more with the children. Not just during the holidays, but for months at a time. They would have learned a lot more from traveling the world than they learned sitting around in school.”

  “About what?”

  “About the way the world works, and about all the important things everything else gets built upon.”

  “You’d have gotten in trouble if you pulled them out of school. Imagine if everyone flouted our sacred education laws like that! Where would our country be then?”

  “Those laws protect a lot of people’s jobs. But they probably would have let me, whether they wanted to or not.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I am a teacher. I could have taught the children myself, wherever we went.”

  “But I thought you were an architect!” I said.

  “I’m that, too. But I studied teaching and I even taught for a while.”

  “What happened?”

  “My heart wasn’t in it. The day I got tenure, I quit.”

  “Then what?”

  “I went out to sea for a year with my buddy.”

  “You just dropped everything and went sailing?”

  “That’s right.”

  I was envious. Imagine that: Mathis had escaped, at least for a while. “Why did you come back?”

  “Lots of reasons. I wanted to be there for my son.”

  “So, you’d already become a father then.”

  “Yes, Lars had been born. His mother and I had separated.”

  So, his three sons weren’t all with the same woman. “What did you do when you came back?”

  “I grew strawberries.”

  “Strawberries?” Of course. Strawberries.

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “It’s not that. It’s just that growing strawberries isn’t your typical—”

  But Mathis was done talking about strawberries. He had something else in mind. Suddenly, he reached out and pulled me close. As we kissed, passion welled up within me.

  “If you keep that up, I can’t promise what I’ll do,” I warned.

  “Come on. I think our bodies need to take a dip in the water.” He kissed me again.

  “I’m sure the lugworms will enjoy watching us.”

  “Good point. We don’t need an audience. Let’s go back and—”

  “Yes, let’s,” I agreed.

  We strolled hand in hand down the foreshore, toward the boat.

  “So what made you decide to become an architect?”

  “It was actually my therapist’s idea.”

  “For you to become an architect?”

  “That’s right. At that time in my life, I was learning how to stand firm—and I definitely wanted to prove to myself that I was sane—and he thought that a profession that actually depends on permanence might be a good fit. It turned out that architecture suited me very well. Steel and concrete are the perfect symbols of stability. I could build things that last, while being both creative and dependable.”

  “So did that turn out to be a good choice?”

  “For the most part. But I still felt the urge to pack my things and leave again. The feeling of wanderlust had been overpowering.”

  “So, how did you cure it?”

/>   “I got married.”

  “I understand. You fell in love.” I didn’t like the idea, but Mathis had lived a full life, and it was inevitable that he had been happy with other women before me.

  “No, I just got married again.”

  I stared at him. “You got married without being in love.” I couldn’t imagine doing such a thing.

  “Yes. I had goals for my life, and marriage and children seemed the best way to achieve them. You can’t run away when you have children. Lars lived with his mother, so I didn’t have enough time with him to keep me in one place. More children and a home were the best solution.”

  “But . . . your poor wife!” I actually felt bad for her. To be married to a man who wanted her to be a kind of warden had to be humiliating.

  “Don’t feel sorry for her. She knew exactly what she was getting into. I never promised her anything, and she wasn’t in love with me, either. She had her own problems that she wanted to overcome, and having children was an appropriate solution for her, too. We had an understanding. We still do.”

  I remained silent. A marriage in name only, right in the middle of Germany!

  Mathis noticed my uncertainty and gave me a smile of encouragement.

  “Please don’t waste a moment of worry, my darling. This arrangement has worked well for many years, and no one has been suffering. The children have been raised by parents who love them very much, and they’re quite happy. That’s what counts.”

  “What about you? Are you happy with this arrangement?”

  He gave me a thoughtful look. “I was, until . . .”

  “Until?”

  “My darling, I’m afraid that question will have to wait. As you can see, we’re back at the boat, and if I remember right, we had a very urgent reason for coming back.”

  “Do you love me, Mathis?” I said.

  Instead of an answer, he covered my mouth with his lips. And when he was through, I had no more questions.

  “How old are you exactly, Nele?”

  We were sitting on the deck, enjoying the early evening sun. It was a strange time for the question.

  “Thirty-five. Why?”

  “You’re still very young.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’ll be sixty next year. That’s a twenty-five-year difference. You could be my daughter.”

  “But I’m not.”

  “Our age difference doesn’t bother you?”

  “I love you, Mathis. That’s what matters.”

  “And twenty years from now?”

  “Who knows what will happen in twenty years? We may both be dead by then, or you’ll have fallen for someone else, or I will. Maybe a nuclear power plant will explode before then, or the end of the world will have been triggered by global warming, or mankind will be decimated by the bird flu or—”

  “Anything can happen, I know that. But out of all the possibilities, Nele, one thing is certain: If we’re both still alive, I’ll be old. And you’ll still be young.”

  “I get what you’re saying, but . . .” I had no desire for this discussion. All I wanted was to be happy. “It’s time for a swim.”

  “So that’s your plan? You’re avoiding me!”

  “Why would I want to do that? In fact, I’d rather do quite the opposite.” I jumped up, dragged him from his seat, and pulled him with me into the cool water. But deep inside I knew this was a problem that wasn’t going away.

  One last day of vacation. In the morning, it would be time for me to drive home, and Paula, too, would be returning—this was the only silver lining. Everyday life would soon swallow us up, and Mathis would no longer be around. Just the thought made my stomach clench and my breathing grow shallow. How could it all be over, already?

  Next to me, my sailor slept deeply. Lucky him. Asleep, he didn’t have to face reality. He lay on his back, naked, looking good enough to eat. Unable to resist, I stroked his hairy chest with my hands, savoring every inch of his muscular body. Hungering for the taste of his skin, I lowered my tongue to his body and began to explore. As my mouth caressed his manhood, Mathis moaned, and he grew hard under my touch. I wanted to feel him inside of me. I sat on him and our bodies responded, instantly finding their rhythm. I closed my eyes as two hands wrapped themselves around my breasts and stroked them. “Mathis!” I gasped. “Oh God, Mathis, don’t let go! Don’t ever let me go!” Then I lost myself in his embrace.

  “Boy, you really know how to wake a guy up,” Mathis said later, stretching in contentment. “Oh, Nele, let’s not go back! We’ll raise the sails and let the wind carry us off to Africa or South America or wherever—”

  “To wherever lies beyond the horizon,” I finished for him.

  “Beyond the horizon?”

  “As a child I was obsessed with the horizon, and I was determined to see what was on the other side.”

  “Why in the world didn’t we meet earlier, Nele?” Mathis said in a soft voice. His eyes looked big and sad. “We could have conquered the world together, collecting memories and building a future . . .”

  “We can still do all that.”

  “I wish that were true.” He gazed deeply into my eyes for a long time while stroking my cheek, then suddenly jumped out of bed. “Now, I’m making you the best breakfast of your life.” He disappeared behind the cabin door and started singing a sea shanty. But something didn’t feel right. Mathis’s words twisted around my heart like an iron cord, making it hard for me to breathe.

  We were both uncharacteristically quiet on that last day. Several times, I had to fight back tears at the sight of Mathis. He looked serious and thoughtful, as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders. He seemed lost in his thoughts. How could it be wrong to have found love in his arms on this beautiful boat? The next day, we would go our separate ways, and I had no idea whether things would go any further between us. Would we even see each other again? As usual, I was tortured by questions I wouldn’t ask. The thought of him saying it was over filled me with fear and panic. I knew that if that was his decision, I wouldn’t take it well. I’d made my decision: to be with him. I knew that he knew this. But I also knew that he was struggling with his decision more than I’d struggled with mine. If he would tell me the problems he was wrestling with, I might have been able to help. But he was mercilessly silent. He stared out at the sea, as if he might find the answers he sought there. All I could do was wait.

  We arrived at the port late that evening and moored the boat in silence. I barely held back my tears.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll make everything here shipshape. Come on, I’ll take you to your apartment now.”

  Wordlessly, I followed him. At the port, I heard merry laughter and fragments of conversation in a variety of languages, including French, Italian, and Dutch. It seemed like half the world had gathered in this spot for a romantic rendezvous. We were the only two people who apparently didn’t have anything to laugh about. Had it just been three days since I’d boarded with Mathis in such a glorious mood? Now, I felt I’d never laugh again. What would Mathis say? We both turned and gave the boat one last glance. Several times someone would call out, “Moin, Mathis!” but he simply touched his hand to his sailor cap.

  When we got to the apartment, I unlocked the door, dropped into a chair, and gave in to the tears I’d been holding back. I cried and cried as Mathis stood beside me and stroked my hair.

  Finally, I asked the question I’d been avoiding, fearing the answer more than anything. “Will we see each other again, Mathis?”

  “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

  “We belong together, Mathis, we both know that. Unless I’m wrong about your feelings. Don’t you want to see me again?”

  “If it was up to me, Nele, I would never let you go. But this is out of my hands.”

  “Whose hands is it in, then?”

  He ma
de a sweeping hand movement, as if indicating the whole world.

  “Do we really live that far from each other? I’ve been afraid to ask, but it’s not like we’re on opposite sides of the world. How far away could you live, really?” He turned to me and raised three fingers in the air.

  “Three hundred miles?”

  He shook his head. I tried to figure out what he meant.

  “Three thousand?”

  “Thirty.”

  “Thirty? But Mathis, that’s . . . Are you serious?”

  He shook his head and gave me his exact address. He lived twenty minutes away, max. Stunned, I looked up at him and saw his very serious demeanor. A sick feeling came over me as I realized what he was saying.

  “You just don’t want a relationship with me. Is that it?”

  Mathis drew a deep breath, as if gathering strength. “Wanting a relationship with you is not the problem, Nele. I swear by all that’s holy to me, there’s nothing I want more. But . . .” He took a deep breath. “It isn’t meant to be. It wouldn’t work.”

  I leaned back in my chair and shut my eyes tightly, willing this to be nothing more than a bad dream. But when I opened my eyes, Mathis still stood there, looking at me sadly.

  “Why are you doing this me?” I whispered. “What did I do wrong?”

  “You? You didn’t do anything wrong. This is all my fault. I should never have asked you to come with me. But I was weak. Now I have to be strong. Believe me, Nele, this way is best for us both. Someday you’ll understand.”

  “You sound like my mother. I’m not a child, Mathis! You owe me a better explanation than that.”

  Again he stroked my head gently. “Go and have a good life, Nele. Be happy, and forget about me as fast as you can. Don’t try to find or call me. It wouldn’t be a good idea.” He rested his hand on my shoulder for a moment and said, so quietly I could barely hear him, “I love you, Nele. I love you so much!”

  “Then stay with me,” I said just as softly, but the door clicked shut behind him.

  Jeez, Nele, you look like shit!”

  “Thanks a lot. That’s just what I needed to hear.”

 

‹ Prev