I, The Divine

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It was endless, that afternoon. The ocean was calm, limpid, vast as the sky. But the color was wrong. It was gray, not the blue-green I was looking for. I had moved from New York to San Francisco to see the sun set in water. But it was wrong. The sun disappeared into oblivion at strange angles and with the wrong colors. I drove to the beach that afternoon to think. I sat on the sand, wondering what to do. I felt I needed some drastic changes. Should I move back to Beirut?

I wondered what percentage of the world’s population had never seen the sun set in the Mediterranean. I remembered another afternoon, on a real beach, under a real sun.

We sneaked onto the beach, he and I. We were so young, both fourteen. It was our first summer together.

It was a public beach, not where either one of us would usually hang out. We were sure no one there would recognize us. It was less than half a mile away from the private beach club where our families swam and socialized, yet a world away. The masses on the golden sand were dressed in everything from swimsuits to full dress. The smell of lamb kebabs wafted through the still air.

The sand burned our feet through the sandals. “I know this place,” he told me. He led me running to the waterline, where the sand was wet and cool. We walked hand in hand, the first time in a week. We walked until we reached a small hill jutting into the sea. As we climbed across he said, “In Norway, they have steep hills that fall straight into the sea. The bays these hills create are called fjords.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to, dummy? I know about fjords.”

“We’ll go there someday,” he said, looking ahead, away from me. “I’ve seen pictures. It’s beautiful and very, very romantic. You’ll like it.”

We jumped down on the other side, a secluded area. “Are you sure this will work?” I asked. “Some people might come and if someone walked on the top there, they’d see us. I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“We’ll hear them coming. Anyway, we’re not doing anything. We’re just kissing.”

We kissed and caressed until we heard people climbing the hill. It was another couple, older. They were shocked to find us there. She smiled. He glowered. They jumped down and sat facing the water with their back toward us. They whispered. They were obviously engaged to be married. Finally, she had the courage to reach over and hold his hand.

I reached over, slipped my hand under Fadi’s swimming trunks and encircled his penis. His face registered shock. “I want to do it,” he said.

“Not till we’re married.”

He kissed me and ejaculated silently.