Fiction: The day Ana met the sea (ENG/ ESP)

in #hive-1707989 months ago

image.png


Pixabay

The day Ana met the sea

The last memory I have of my father is his back as he walked away down a sandy path. I remember it was when mom and I first met the sea.

It was July and I was out of school. My mom had woken me up early.

Get up and get dressed quickly because today you are going to meet someone very important," she told me softly, because my mother had a sweet voice and when she spoke, you could hardly hear her. Then I stood up, took a quick bath and when I came out of the bathroom, my mother had put my best dress on the bed, the one she used when she had a party. I figured that person had to be very special.

The trip took about an hour, I think, but I fell asleep on the way. My mom woke me up when we arrived. She was carrying a duffel bag and dark glasses. We walked along a little sandy path and through thick vegetation. When we passed all the vegetation, we had it in front of us: the immense sea with waves coming and going.

Neither my mother nor I knew the sea. I was happy and jumped awkwardly on the sand as we walked to a shady coconut tree. When we got there, there was a man sitting on a rock. When he saw us coming, he immediately stood up and greeted my mom with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. As they parted, my mom took me by the hand and said:

Ask for his blessing, Ana. This is your father. -I was so surprised that I couldn't move. Then the man came closer, hugged me and gave me a kiss on my forehead.

─Bendición," I said and he replied with a "Dios te bendiga" (God bless you) close to my ear. Then, he pulled away and looked me up and down, and added:

─But how big you are! You don't look like you were 7 years old," he looked me in the eyes and smiled at me. After that he said something to my mom and we sat down on an awning that was close to the shore.


)


Pixabay

I started jumping on the sand and looking for seashells, without taking care of my party dress. I paced back and forth, until my mom told me to sit near them. The waves splashed against my dress, leaving white trails of foam on my feet and between my toes. Oblivious to the adults, I played with each thing the waves left behind: a plastic bottle, a broken shell, a piece of rotten wood.

─Ana, do you want ice cream? -my mom asked me and I nodded with my hands dirty with sand. Then they called a boy who sold ice cream and bought three ice creams. I remember mine was mantecado, because at that time that was my favorite flavor. I also remember that it was very hot and the sun was a bright yellow ball in our faces, and the sea was an ironed blue sheet.

In the afternoon, when the sun was beginning to set and the sea was tinged with gray, the man approached me again, hugged me, gave me a kiss and said in my ear:

Take good care of yourself and listen to your mother," he said and left. I watched him until he was lost in the horizon. I was about to ask my mother why that man was leaving, but, despite the dark glasses, I saw that my mother was crying. Then I fixed my gaze again on that man's back as he walked away, because I knew that just as it had been the first time I had seen him, it would also be the last time I would see his face.

I remember that day in July, not only because I met my father, but also because I met the sea and just that day my new dress was damaged.

The text is my own, translated in Deepl and the images are free of charge.

The Ink Well (1).png

Thank you for reading and commenting. Until a new opportunity, friends

![Click here to read in spanish]
El día que Ana conoció el mar
El último recuerdo que tengo de mi padre es su espalda mientras que se alejaba por un camino de arena. Recuerdo que fue cuando mamá y yo conocimos el mar.
Era el mes de julio y yo había salido de la escuela. Mi mamá me había despertado tempranito.
─Levántate y vístete rápido que hoy vas a conocer a alguien muy importante –me dijo suave, porque mi mamá tenía una voz dulce y cuando hablaba, casi no se le escuchaba. Entonces yo me paré, me bañé rápido y cuando salí del baño, mi madre había puesto en la cama mi vestido nuevo, el que utilizaba cuando tenía una fiesta. Me imaginé que aquella persona tenía que ser muy especial.
El viaje duró una hora, creo, pero yo me dormí en el trayecto. Mi mamá me despertó cuando llegamos. Ella llevaba un bolso de lona y unos lentes oscuros. Caminamos por un caminito de arena y por el medio de una vegetación tupida. Al pasar toda la vegetación, lo tuvimos frente a nosotras: el mar inmenso con olas que iban y venían.
Ni mi mamá ni yo conocíamos el mar. Yo estaba feliz y brincaba con torpeza sobre la arena mientras caminábamos hasta un cocotero que hacía sombra. Al llegar allí, había un hombre sentado en una piedra. Al vernos llegar, inmediatamente se levantó y saludó a mi mamá con un abrazo y un beso en la mejilla. Al separarse, mi mamá me tomó de la mano y me dijo:
─Pídele la bendición, Ana. Este es tu padre. –yo estaba tan sorprendida que no pude moverme. Entonces el hombre se acercó, me abrazó y me dio un beso en la frente.
─Bendición –le dije y él me contestó con un “Dios te bendiga” cerca de mi oído. Luego, se alejó y me miró de arriba abajo, y añadió:
─¡Pero qué grande estás! No pareces que tuvieras 7 años –me miró a los ojos y me sonrió. Luego de eso le dijo algo a mi mamá y nos sentamos en un toldo que estaba cerquita de la orilla.
Yo empecé a brincar sobre la arena y a buscar conchas marinas, sin cuidar mi vestido de fiesta. Caminaba de un lado a otro, hasta que mi mamá me dijo que me sentara cerca de ellos. Las olas salpicaban mi vestido, y dejaban estelas blancas de espumas en mis pies y entre mis dedos. Ajena a los adultos, jugaba con cada cosa que las olas iban dejando: una botella de plástico, una concha rota, un pedazo de madera podrida.
─¿Ana, quieres helado? –me preguntó mi mamá y yo asentí con las manos sucias de arena. Luego llamaron a un chico que vendía helados y compraron tres helados. Recuerdo que el mío era de mantecado, porque en esa época ese era mi sabor preferido. También recuerdo que hacía mucho calor y el sol era una bola brillante y amarilla que nos daba en la cara, y el mar era una sábana azul planchada.
En la tarde, cuando el sol comenzaba a ocultarse y el mar se teñía de gris, el hombre se acercó nuevamente a mí, me abrazó, me dio un beso y me dijo al oído:
─Cuídate mucho y hazle caso a tu madre –dijo y se fue. Yo lo miré hasta que se perdió en el horizonte. En eso le iba a preguntar a mi mamá por qué aquel hombre se marchaba, pero, a pesar de los lentes oscuros, vi que mi madre lloraba. Entonces volví a fijar mi mirada en aquella espalda que se alejaba, porque sabía que así como había sido la primera vez que lo había visto, también sería la última vez que vería su cara.
Aquel día de julio lo recuerdo, no solo porque conocí a mi padre, también porque conocí el mar y justo ese día se me dañó mi vestido nuevo.


















Sort:  

Incredible... after reading this, I eagerly checked the tags to see if this is a true story, or fiction. I truly can't tell. Either way, well done. I feel like it was the man's loss for never contacting her again.

This post has been manually curated by the VYB curation project

I am encouraged by your words. Thank you. I really appreciate your comments and support. Best regards

I am encouraged by your words. Thank you. I really appreciate your comments and support. Best regards

Keep up the great work :)

A moving story. You are in complete control of your craft here. You begin and end in the same place--her father's back. And yet, between beginning and end you offer us a history of the narrator's birth and the mother's sorrow. Every word in the piece does 'heavy lifting'. Some parts of the story, though soar. Here for example:

the sun was a bright yellow ball in our faces, and the sea was an ironed blue sheet.

We are on the beach. We are experiencing the intense emotions of the child. At the end we understand the day has been both beautiful and tragic.

Thank you for sharing this remarkable story with us, @nancybriti1

There are vacation memories that are not the most joyful. There are vacations that leave a mark. That is what I wanted to capture with my text. Thank you for your support and comments.