excerpt
He felt adrift in her absence, a rudderless skiff tossed about in a
broiling surf. For days following her departure he could taste her
sun-resistant lip gloss. Buddy Kirk had waited such a long time.
They’d found one another at last. The world — life itself — had
changed.
On the run to Cancun Buddy retired alone each night. He passed
his free time under the wheelhouse.
– Something wrong, mon?
They were sharing a blunt, the Sunrise steaming south into the rising
equatorial heat.
– It’s nothing, he said.
But Buddy had to talk to her. There was a great yawning vacancy
inside him only she could satiate. Buddy wanted to describe to her
the lights of colonial Veracruz off to the west. To tell her about the
school of dolphins following the ship. But most of all he wanted to
tell her how everything he saw, everything he touched and tasted
reminded him of her.
Man bloody Overboard.
He called the number she’d given him from the phone in the
crew’s mess. After three rings there was a recorded message: The
number you have dialed is out of service. Please check the number
and dial again. The e-mail address was also a dud.
Back in Miami Buddy spent two frantic days in an Internet café
trying to trace her. He attempted, unsuccessfully, bribing the travel
agent to release personal information about her. But the address
she’d given him didn’t exist. No one with her surname resided in
that town. It was as if . . . she never existed.
Sam came by the hotel. You’ll feel better soon, he said. There’s
many fish in the sea.
That night, emboldened by drink, Buddy stumbled down to the
harbour. He took one final peek at the snapshot, the pair of them
under the wheelhouse, then shredded it. He destroyed the coaster
on which he’d written, Her eyes look inside my head and see everything.
Flakes of paper, like swarming butterflies, scattered in the
breeze.
There were occasions he felt like going home, changing occupations.
He even considered following the Filipino waiter over the side.
But after a few weeks he returned to the game.
Libros Libertad 