Holding my hand, she disappears into the mirror as if plunging into vertically frozen water. This time I do not hold my breath: I want to feel the moment, but nothing happens, for I don’t feel the "transition" at all.
Hebe lets go of my hand and walks forward, leaving me standing with my mouth open. We are in a huge, bright room. To my left there is a double bed with frosty-white linens and swan white airy canopy that is gently swaying from a light breeze. There is not much furniture in the room, but it is clearly expensive and most likely handmade: several wicker chairs with white, flat pillows on their tops, a bedside table with an elegant night-light as if made of lacy ivory, a white dressing table with carved drawers and a transparent vase with fresh white orchids on it. On the right side there is something that took my breath away: a wide-open balcony without railings ends with the edge of turquoise water, which becomes darker closer to the horizon... and nothing more, just endless space and the Sun. I slowly walk up to the water, forgetting for a second about Hebe. I’m breathing no longer the pure coniferous air of the mysterious Forest, the haven of witches, but the fresh salty breath of the ocean.
"Thank you for bringing me here..." I say softly. I manage to get a look at the slowly moving points of ships in the distance that look like white birds from afar.
"Welcome to my secret place," the witch says quietly, as if being imbued by my sweet sadness.
I don't answer and keep looking into the distance. Hebe comes up from behind and hugs me, and I throw my head back, and with a gentle trembling in my chest I kiss her on the cheek, putting my hands over hers. We are standing motionless, succumbing to some strange moment.
***
When I came outside, I was enveloped in real heat and humidity. I remained in the same clothes, but I rolled up my sleeves and hastily put on the black flip flops, which Hebe showed me. She resolutely paved her way barefooted along the thin road that was running along the white beach. We were protected from the scorching Sun by the tall trunks of palm trees that were leaning towards the water. I noticed several other neat houses scattered along the coast and up the green slope. All of them were made of natural materials in the classic island style: many stood on stilts, some had straw roofs, and some, like witch’s house, nestle at the very edge of the water, hanging over it, resting on supports.
We met only locals: it felt like Hebe and I were the only foreigners for miles around. The witch with her tanned, tight body fit perfectly into the island atmosphere. I probably looked like a piece of white marshmallow against the bright background. Perhaps I ended up in an elite district or an expensive local resort... The area was clearly not touristy, but it didn’t look like a fishing village that made its ends meet: there were no half-naked children; no toothless, wrinkled old men burned to dryness by the boiling Sun; no thin, flea-bitten dogs that were dying in the heat, which film makers in my country love to show in all kinds of ‘travelling shows’. Oh, they never forget to hint how "bad" it is in a foreign land as if saying, "Stay, little kids, at home – the food is excellent only where you live; in an evil paradise you won't survive a day..."
Finally, we came to a cozy, outdoor café that was nestled among the lush, flowering bushes, sheltered from the Sun by palm trees and thatched roofs.
Hebe flops down at the nearest table and instantly beckons a nimble waiter, a boy of eighteen in red shorts and a white T-shirt with the café logo. She is quickly chatting in a language that, to my shame, I do not know. The guy is very pleased with Hebe's attention: he gives the witch a snow-white smile, and she smiles back, chirping something to him. Hebe is holding his hand, and he laughs, answering something in turn, now she laughs too, and then he nods and runs away, probably, to fulfill the order.
They definitely know each other.
And I don't like it.
I don't like it at all.
Even the way he looks at her hurts me.
"What’s wrong with you?" Hebe smiles at me just like she smiled at the boy a second ago. How many fools like I did she have?
I sit across from her, wondering where we are: Indonesia? Philippines? Another "sleeve"? I wanted to ask the witch, but when I witnessed their conversation, I changed my mind.
Almost instantly we are given two big banana splits. Hebe gently says something to the guy. She must have thanked him, but it seems to me that she is flirting with him. The girl plunges a dessert spoon into her ice cream, almost purring with the pleasure of anticipation. She definitely loves sweet thing. As for me, I would not mind my usual breakfast: a cup of coffee, a couple of sandwiches, maybe a slice of bacon, something salty... Well, one should not look a gift banana in the mouth, and I stoically start poking around in a sugar bomb, looking at people around.
"Velia, don't you like it?" I am deep in my thoughts, that’s why I don’t immediately understand who is addressing me. Hebe rakes a slice of chocolate covered banana with a spoon and holds it to my lips. "Open your mouth," she says gently, touching my calf with her feet. I freeze in an unjustified fear: I’m starting to think that everyone is looking at us, condemning us! It's one thing to be somewhere alone with her, and another to be spoon-fed in public on a real date with a girl. My cheeks are burning, and it's not because of the hot weather.
"I... I... I will leave you for a couple of minutes... I need to... do..." I stammer. Hebe is eyeing me in surprise.
"Where are you going? Did something happen?"
I pretend not to hear her, and I am shamefully slipping between tables with cheerfully chatting people who, I bet, don’t even look at us.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the words are beating in my head, echoing dull in my heart. I am ashamed of my weakness and my fear, but I can’t help it, and I just wander along the crooked paths in search of solitude, but wherever I go there are people everywhere. At last, I find a lonely pier. It is piercing the turquoise water like a bright arrow. I stop only when I reach its farthest end.
I need to be alone.
"But you are always alone! And it’s because you are a disgusting, weak person! It was you who asked Hebe out, and it was you who shamefully ran away from her," my inner voice drives the last nail into the coffin of my self-esteem.
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