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Mauka - Here Is The House
Mauka - Here Is The House : Chapter 11

Chapter 11

  2007.06.26. 10:00


                                           Chapter-XI.

 

 

 

 

                        An old storyteller would say about the time, we spent together, up in  the remote, secluded, hidden house in the Mount Cook region that it was fabulous.

There weren't that many wonders in all of  the collected works of the Grimms' and Andersen's together than in the last few days.

Maybe, he would be  craftier in telling this story.

Still, I try my best and try to tell it  to be  as catchy as I am able to.

 

As the days went by we've grown to each other more and more.

I decided not to think about the future as it was yet unborn. I shouldn't had mess with the past either as it was dead already. My only project, I was to deal with, was the now. This moment only.

I enjoyed every single moment of the time I spent with him. I liked him when he was a gentle and kind one, and when he was grumpy. A liked him awake, liked when sleeping.

Liked him dressed up, liked him naked. Liked him freshly shaven and being stubbly. Liked him when he was opened and I liked him when he closed his gates temporarily and seeked an hour solitude. Liked him when serious, liked him joking.  Whatever he did, I liked him.

                        We were laying on the bed, me reading the Bible, he was carving a piece of wood with a knife.

 It started to take the shape of a horse. I was watching him working, he concentrated on it that hard, he wasn't aware of his surroundings at all. I could have gave a cry he wouldn't have heard it. I never grew tired watching him, not until the end of the world.

I thought, our love is like a sculpture taking shape out of a block of marble, it was a masterwork in progress.

I was listening to the howling sound of the more and more fiercy wind outside. The trees were crying in pain when the wind took a grip on them and shook their branches wildly.

The devil was knocking at our door.

We, or I should say Dave, took the necessary precautions he could think of.

Fixed every window and door. Even climbed up to the roof to secure it against the wind.

Though it wasn't like an air-raid shelter, the lodge seemed stormproof.

While he was mending the roof I melted snow and filled the barrel inside the kitchen, just in case we won't be able to go outside, to open the door.

I hoped the storm would be a moderate one. The house stood on an open place, without cellars of any kind, so if it would be a whirlwind, well, I don't know....

I sat still, but wasn't calm at all.

David was stoical, he said a thunder never strucks twice into the same tree, so it wouldn't mean any trouble.

I told him that it is only hurray optimism and I am scared, he rolled over, embraced me and showed me the figure in his hand.

It was a delicate piece of a handwork. How gifted he is!

                      I made it for you, he said. Do you accept it?

                      Sure, it is beautiful Dave! Thank you very much, I said and cuddled the horse.

He put down the knife, swept the wood splints to the floor and was watching me how happy I was with the present he gave. He was smiling benignly as you smile at a child whom you brought ice-cream and balloons. He was stroking my head as I laid by his side.

Neither of us said a word, we were waiting for the storm to arrive.

 

                 And here it comed. The wind was defeaning and the house was shaking in its base. The supporting structure of the house seemed shaking and moving.  All the beams were creaking madly. I was covering my ears with my hands and shut my eyes.

David pulled me closer to himself, until it wasn't possible to be  any closer. He tried to calm me, this time in vain. I panicked. He just held me tight and was whispering in a tranquil voice  to my ears, didn't know what, because nothing could have been heared in that defeaning noise. I was shaking like a leaf.

After a time it was a bit quieter, but then it started again. Gusts of wind followed one after the other. It took long hours, very long hours.

 My only comfort was David, when I opened my eyes I saw him watching me. Like I was watching him. So strange. He was staring me with such inquisitive eyes.

In the last couple of days we were scrutinizing each other like spies from opponent empires. We wanted to know the dephts of the other's mind. We were learning to love each other.

 

 

            The worst part was over. It took a whole twelve hours. It's sheer wonder the house wasn't blown away. The doors and windows were okay, too. Neither of them was broken, not even cracked. But we had to stay inside. There were severe gusts of wind, we could have been blown away if went out.

David tried to send radio signals, his try was useless. The radio was operating, but the receiving was like nonexistent. He tried it several times, but no answer came.

We were alone in this world, the two of us, Robinson and his Friday, stranded.

Unlike Robinson, I wasn't sure I wanted a safe return. Staying here with this man seemed an attracive option.

Of course, we had to return. As the weather clears up,  planes  would come and take us home, separate planes, flying to points faraway each other, to separate worlds.

                      

                       The next day David succeded with his call and we had been informed that a plane is due in ten hours for us. We acknowledged the message.

David said, it's time to get ourselves ready. He saw how sad I was.

So sad, I was tried to push myself, I wanted to suffer more, and more yet. Suffer until I reach the point of numbness and there would be pain no more. I was avoided him, tried to stay in  another room, where I could be alone. He was following me everywhere and tried to talk to me. I didn't let him help me. He stood in the middle of the room, I wanted to flee through the door, but he blocked my way.

                           I want to love you, want to calm you. Let's make love, it would mean relief. I don't wanna go away like this. Mau, please ,let me love you. Come on over, lay down beside me and I try, I try, he said while he descended himself onto the bed. I want to love you. Come! I beg you! Won't you come? Why won't you come?-he repeated it again and again.

I was like out of the room, still I wasn't able to leave him there like that.

I layed down beside him without any words.  He turned to me.

                       Remember? The world in my eyes? I want you to show you the world in my eyes. Come on, you shouldn't fear the future. As uncertain as it is. Please, trust me! I know what you are scared of. I will find a way to stay in contact with you.

                         I know, I answered. But , I..., David that would be like a coke without caffeine and sugar, a substitute, a token,  cheap brandy after you had a decent, fine Pina Colada. I love you, but I don't want to be the spare one. Always waiting and anticipating....well...nothing.

Talking on the phone would be just plain and empty after all these things happened between us.

This kind of long-distance relationship and contact have nothing to do with depth.It is damn superficial. It's not letting opening yourself emotionally to each other, nor it is allowing us to open ourselves personally. No face to face, no mutual letting down the guard between us, no being real, no shared vulnerability, no experiencing one another's physical energy or experiencing the stuff of life together.

Instead, from the fortress of your home, from behind the computer monitor or from your car it is, it is just like a dialogue from a stupid reality show. It is a form of hiding.

We are very lonely. I am still very lonely.

It was okay while being with you, but without you I am a stranded island in the ocean of sorrow.

You see, it seems  almost impossible to achieve anything of a decent relationship like that.

It is just, I can't live  with or without you. Nor with you, neither without you. Now tell me not to be desperate.

              Come, come baby, all the words of Encyklopedia Brittanica won't help.

Here, I kiss you, feel it? Here, I touch you, feel it? Here I bite you, feel it?

These are the real things. Love is real, when it is felt, not when talked about.

              David!

              Yes?

              David!

              Hmmm,

              Oh, God, Daaaviid!

              Do you feel it now? My love?

              Oh my, oh my...

 

He was right again of course. Feeling is believing. He eventually calmed me down.

This time he was not that rough and wildly passionate as usual. He gave the tenderest of care ever. We were just melting in each other, stayed together for long, long hours, until we heard the sounds of the rotors. We ran out. Two helicopters were floating above the clearing and the house.

 

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