The sky that night had the strangest combination. Where she was sitting, it rained, but a little further in horizon, the sky was clear. The moon illuminated softly in that further distance from her. She was looking, thinking; but her search and thoughts were for nothing among those white shadows, in the great expanse of silver and pearl. She thought that no one, even if she was seen wandering in the field, could accuse her of anything, for she loved to walk, and many had seen her walk all the time.
In the morning, after being awake the entire night, she went back to that place, where she had buried her baby. In fact she repeated this almost everyday until... Why did she stubbornly go back to a place where she knew she would see and feel only shame and bitterness? She did not know. She did not know that most criminals would go back to place of their crime and a lot of them would be caught there!
Sometimes she would pick up some wild flowers just to hold them tight to her breasts, as if she was holding a baby. She would wrap her arms around the flowers in a gentle way just like a mother would do for her baby. The sky above her was sometimes an enchanting blue, and other times a combination of many colors. She could smell winter in every breath she took. She thought about what her mother told her when she heard about baby's sudden death. "Isn't that a relief for you?" There was a derisive tone in her voice that Thui understood what she meant. Her mother knew.
She felt temporary in her own country, detached... as though she was abroad, or a visitor. She tried very hard to forget about the baby, but it was not the baby she wanted to forget, it was what she had done. Finally the day she was waiting for came. When she noticed how much Harold wanted her, she just simply decided to forget what she had done. After all her dream was about to come through.
In a way, as much as she hated Harold and laughed internally at him, she was also grateful to him in some ways. He reinvented her with his passion, reminded her of the purpose of life. But he never could conquer her entire mind and her whole concentration. She endeavored to reserve them for herself; but the outcome was not great, for she still wished to recreate herself.
Most of the time she was, herself, very surprised by her own two- faced. When she took care of Harold's household, cooked for him, cleaned his house, did his laundry, she put so much love in every detail of those works. Yet, at the same time, she hated him so deeply that she wanted to burst into flames. All she could think of was that she certainly had two faces, and both faces were true faces, like having split personality.
Harold used to tell her that she was like an cold wine, smooth, glistening, and delicious. He also told her that she made him feel adequate, bring him down to earth, make him forget his arrogance, for he was an arrogant man. He told her that she was like those hours of dim light in the evening before one put the lights on, those silent transitions between day and night. Of course, Thui would not understand if he complimented her or mocked her, but she assumed what ever Harold told her was compliment.
They used to sit in the balcony in the dusk, holding hands, no longer being able to see, just waiting and watching the appearance of the night. Neither was able to tell the other what she or he wanted, and waited for the other to say it. Harold was afraid that Thui would reject him because he was almost seventy years old, older than her grandfather; and Thui was afraid that he would reject her because he knew she truly did not love him. They were waiting... waiting.
To Be Continued
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