Casa Rica

The young woman stared blankly at the glistening shore, starkly festooned by the gloomy sunset linings. Her tiny arms hugging her bony folded-bony knees as she sat down in a wooden slat, laid bare and unpainted surviving the course of many seasons; every folding of time where lovers sat down there, feeling the enticing caress of the cooling breeze; and other times, a stray soul would slob around in a desperate hopeless trance. As she watched the puny pigeons cruising in V-form disappear in the deep indigo sky, she realized how long she had stayed numb and wordless—her companion also staring at her, still, in is sitting position adjacent to her. “Ate, it’s getting late.”
Marissa only grunted and returned his steady look with a pleading gaze. “Can we stay a little longer?”
“Look, you’ve been sitting there for almost an hour, and—“
“Fine. I’m gonna stay here and you…” she fixed herself up and tapped her hands as she headed towards her brother at the opposite side. “Sean, can I just call you later and fetch me?”
Clutching the motorcycle key upwards, she got her right hand and put that light thing gently into it. “I want to stay here for a while, perhaps, another hour would do.”
They couldn’t fight at this moment. Perhaps they were both tired for always arguing lately. Minutes later, the screeching sound of the Honda motorcycle they brought was heard at a distance, slower, and then no more sound. At the table in the center was her black helmet that she refused to wear a moment ago in their house. “This helmet’s just been giving me another burden, I feel uncomfortable.”
“Do you want me to wear it for you stone head? Sean, her only brother got irritated by her complaints every now and then—after the death of her husband.

She returned to her previous position, fixed her gaze again at the calm sea, her chin rested weightlessly on her knees. At the peeping avenue of the islands beyond—the graciously beautiful islands of Casa Rica—cut by the sparkling elegance of the sea, the sun was pinned like a glowing fire ball in a painting, sinking lazily in the horizon. Soon it will be dusk, full and dark, everything around would blur in breathless silence.
She felt the urge in her feet to touch the soft sea water. She rose from her seat and dawdled in the shoaling smooth white sand, scattered around like fresh powdered milk showered in blessings from the sweet heavens above. She waited for the little tides to embrace her little feet as she drowned herself in stupefied emotions, clear and loud like her throbbing heart in excited contact with the gurgling sea.
The islands of Casa Rica, a few kilometers beyond, stood valiantly in the open sea, its graciousness almost a spell casting on everyone who stood there in quick stupor. Like in dreams and fantasies, that island has become every couple’s castle and sure it was once their fortress—Marissa and Christopher’s.

Yes, the name was Christopher. She never thought she would fall into this man and never even had the idea that she would live her life with him—happily, yet for only short span of time. She spelled the name on the clear white sand with her bare finger—CHRISTOPHER. Such was a beautiful name, she marveled. The name that rescued her a many times before. He gave her back her name even her soul, in times of hopelessness and depression when that Jurassic whorehouse in that small town almost gulped her up—alive and sinful. And then this man came—respectable and distinguished. The name of their clan that had written and gave highlights to the history of their town. The clan with the lucid blood of the politicians, of bachelors and the elites. He offered her his untainted love beyond odds, well enough to disregard her lonely doomed life. He never doubted her the way she thought he was just some sort of a man who would come and stay for a while—sleep with her and then leaves. She developed her liking to this man who knew how to handle an aberrant woman in bed—more of an attachment she felt when they would saunter in this enticing sea, side by side ignoring the malicious eyes of those who judge her ignobly like they were some folks of pure clean spirits!
And then the flapping tide crawl slowly crossing over the name and leaving no trace of it. A soft breeze whispered like a murmur of a sweet child playing with her slightly wavy dark hair. They were never been blessed with a child. And then he was gone. She looked up to see the naked sky—enormous and spread with a crimson hue so brilliant to distinguish a departing daylight.
She stared at the golden watch at her wrist, exactly 5:50. That was the only gift she accepted when they were dating first then, precious and treasured like a child. It was their 1st anniversary and they had a romantic date in the gleaming white sand of Casa Rica. She can’t resist the gift of Christopher at that moment like she always did in just ordinary days. She was afraid and hesitant; if she did, he might think their relationship was just like any typical mercenary one. But that day was special and remarkable. They rented a cottage and spend the night with enough passion and eagerness to possess each other’s body in a wild enthusiasm.
In the middle of the night when the stars were hanging on the black abysmal wilderness, competing for the attention of the exotic gorgeous moon, they sat on the sand completely marveled on the luminous beauty of the night sky drawn and reflected on the great gurgling sea, after having a full and scrumptious sweating event in bed. Their bodies were craving for a chilling swim in the warm sea. But the night sky was deeply alluring as they decided to sit down for a moment and watched everything motionless and still. Every animate species were like sleeping in their habitats and they could hear nothing but each others breathing and heart throbbing. The moment was tranquil, even the small coconut trees were still—each sturdy boughs and leaves seemed to be drawn in perfect harmony and immobility. Every now and then, small tides rose flashing irregularly, churned up low splashing in a bewitching murmur.
An hour of romantic silence between them was broken with a soft mumble of proposal—a sweet whisper of the usual ‘will you marry me’ of any brave tender men, but that voice seemed to be a familiar song in the ears of Marissa, clear and reverberating words of Christopher. She almost leaped from her lying position—head in his lap—hearing those words from him. How she had wished to witness his lips drew out those four words!
“What are you saying?” She was facing him, staring him directly right into his eyes. That time, she was not the woman she knew of herself. It felt like she was a renewed one, even more orgasmic and pleasurable than what they had a moment ago. She had a different feeling, an oozing heat in her body transcending the mundane one. It was an instant proposal that propped out of Christopher’s head, no ring, not even the typical act of kneeling in front of a woman, in pleading gentle eyes of a man who is ready to commit life in union with a woman who is also ready to surrender her name to his man.
“I said I want to marry you.” Not long that he finished his words, Marissa gave him a kiss so passionate and more loving.
Nothing moved on around them except for a single fish that had leaped out of water and had witnessed the passionate compromise of two people ready to face the new life of being a couple. Everything was still dark as it was; the night was invincible and mysterious, suggesting a cozy feeling of tenderness. The breeze silently whispered urging the swaying of the leaves and creepers as if they were nodding in approval and compassion for the two people under.

The distant 6o’clock bell of the nearby chapel was heard from afar. She looked again at her watch, advanced 10 minutes. Sean was not yet around, how could he be so long? She wondered, yet she was hoping he would come later. She walked around and again the face of Christopher was like a painting in her memory, etched there for a long time.

They had never met such warm grace of happiness in their first few months, far from their parents and people who didn’t and would never agree on that civil wedding.
The only person in the family who had witnessed that event was Sean, his brother in her father’s side. She had doted on this brother of hers very much, even when they have different mothers. She would do everything just to give him what he needs; their father and her stepmother whom the real mother of Sean had abandon and left them in the care of their uncle when they were young. Her uncle was such a bastard whom an evil figure to them; he who had cost her dignity as a woman at the age of seven. How he lavished her innocence and naïve purity at the back of their house for so many times. She’d thought her life was starkly ruined and that’s how she found herself in that whorehouse of the town. She knew a friend who had been working there and the one who recommended her to that fat old looking boss, the owner of Jurassic—that’s the name of that place in which no matter how she wanted to forget it, still it will always be a stain on her memory.

How could life be so mean to her? She thought. She was saved by Christopher from that haunting place, from their wicked uncle but still life had been so cruel.

The beautiful sky was fading in the horizon. Beyond the islands somber dark clouds were rising, hovering dauntingly. The trees were still.