Under the Willow Tree

He lay close beside her, his breathing deep and regular, his body warm and reassuring. How long she had waited for this great satisfaction? This sense of oneness years of struggle had finally brought her. He had left her many times, saying he just wasn’t ready to settle in with one woman, being always overwhelmed by her loving, yet constant, demands. She had left him, too, having grown weary from waiting for him to decide what he wanted, weary from wondering which beautiful brunette he was then wining and dining, weary from being a human yo-yo bobbing up and down on a thin string, attached to him at every length. It had all seemed such a useless waste of time; why couldn’t she just let go of this man who refused to commit to the only thing she felt was important in this life? No amount of money had been able to fulfill her; no amount of fame had eased her emptiness; only a relationship, a union, a bond, a partnership, could appease her search for happiness and completion. She had been independent and self-sufficient for so long. She was wondering if ever she would be fortunate enough to be blessed also by a giving, sharing, intimate association with the opposite sex. And as often is the case, just when she had quite given up, her “true love” had reappeared, finally transformed into a mature, loving human being, ready to accept her for all she was and was not, ready to plug into the opening in her heart, sealing it once and for all.

           She looked at him now, a face so familiar, so close. He had retained his boyish appearance, causing her to constantly flash a series of images before her eyes, when looking at him like this, in his sleep. Their waking hours still rendered moments of disagreement and certain outbursts of dissatisfaction with some mundane contradiction or other. But they had long accustomed themselves to these occasional flare-ups, and even delighted in them for the inevitable pleasure of making up that they brought. Surely, she was one of the luckiest women in the world to have such an understanding with her mate. They even liked to have sex at the same intervals of time, which wasn’t that often, but it didn’t matter as much anymore. They adored each others' bodies, with the intimacy achieved both physically and spiritually. The sexual level played its part humbly and with proper respect, but also with passion and desire. They hadn’t coupled in several weeks, but their bodies always fit one into the other when sleeping. The angles and rounds of their forms fit as one, especially on a cold and blustery night. The closeness and the breathing and the energy of this warm, human, sleeping body beside her was ecstasy in itself. She was happy, truly happy.

           Just then, the sound of the wind was beginning to invade her thoughts. The rustling of the branches of the trees against the window panes were starting to sound like frantic knockings, imploring her to open up and let them in. Such a gale! What force! Where did it come from? It was so quiet, so utterly peaceful just moments before. Colin awoke with a jolt as the first glass shattered in fragments blown clear to the other side of their small coastal cottage. He immediately found Hanna’s waiting arms and embraced her tightly, both of them now wide awake and sitting upright in their wood-framed bed. No time to move, no time to run, not time to think; only time locked in fear of what was happening. The hurricane wind tore apart their lovely home in minutes, carrying away all those precious belongings they had so carefully chosen to surround them in their summer house by the sea. How they had remained glued to their bed, clutched in each other’s arms, her head buried deep in his chest, his face turned as far into her shoulder as possible, was a wonder to them.

           They were vaguely aware that they were alone in the vast darkness, and unsheltered from this fierce and baffling wind. Yet what sense could they make of it? The sound was all pervasive; a deafening, steady roar. They could feel the rushing all around them, yet why weren’t they also carried away by it? There they were, still sitting upright, clinging to each other on their bed, caught in the middle of a swirling, raging sand, dust and sea storm. Their hair was blowing, their hearts pounding, minds reeling, as they waited to be obliterated by the violent thrusts of wind and water.

           The rising tide had steadily crept up closer and closer to the meager remains of their cottage. They could feel the moisture mixed in with the sand and the dust, coating their skin in a fine mix. Higher and higher the water rose around them, carefully cradling their wooden bed, now a tiny life raft upon this churning sea. Up and away, precariously balanced, riding the tips of the white foaming waves, farther and farther out, not a hint of land or sand left in the wind that informed their trembling bodies.

           “Hanna, Hannah, can you hear me?” No reply.

           “Hannah!”

           For the first time since their ordeal began, Hannah managed to lift her head from the safety of Colin’s chest, and slowly looked up into his eyes. They locked amazed gazes briefly, then dared to look beyond into the barely discernible expanse of water that stretched before them. Cheek to cheek, still embracing, they watched in silence as the first rays of light started defining the mysterious shapes that were leaping over them, in front of them, and behind them. The beautiful, sleek, steel-gray forms emerged effortlessly from the water’s surface, arched gracefully above them, then dove nose first back into the azure sea. Their high-pitched voices blended with the subsiding howl of the winds, giving the impression of being encased in a huge glass bowl, where all sound is echoed endlessly by the reverberations off of the curved surfaces. Some of the creatures jumped so close, they could have reached out their hands to touch them. How powerful and spectacular these animals are, Hannah thought to herself, and how huge! She had touched dolphins in holding tanks many times, but faced with their proximity here in the open water was quite another sensation. They seemed to be guiding them to some destination, skillfully maneuvering their tenacious little craft onward through the mist and the motion and the heaving of the unsettled sea.

           The presence of these animal guides relaxed their beating hearts and bewildered minds and allowed Colin and Hannah to sit calmly, hand in hand, no longer gasping for their lives, poised in their confusion, at one with their predicament. No thinking, no questioning, no fear; only awe and fascination inhabited the fringes of reasoning ability that was left to them.

           Their progress was swift, their hair was still waving in the moist wind. The grayness in the distance was quickly being replaced by a gleaming lightness, at first tinging all forms with a warm, rosy glow, then turning into a soft brightness, illuminating all the astounding panorama with the purest and cleanest hues of color.

           Not very far away, the confounded couple perceived a solid shape rising out of the cool blue depths. Just as suddenly as they were tossed upon the sea, they found themselves tumbling onto a small platform, the waters receding from them, their dolphin friends vanishing with the storm that had escorted them there.

           All was quiet. Gone was the frightful wind. Gone were the dolphins. Gone was the sea; what remained was a new ocean of fog that lay beneath the platform in great soft, thick-rolling layers. Above, the sky was crystal clear and the most brilliant hue of cerulean blue. A light breeze began to whisper. A light warm breeze that wrapped itself around the shivering figures, comforting and drying them. Hannah crawled to Colin, noticing how perfectly smooth was the polished surface of the platform, now radiating the glowing sun’s heat. She reached him and they sat for a moment, scanning the horizon, all 360 degrees of it. Besides the eight-foot square stage that supported them, there was absolutely nothing else but the dense, rolling fog bank that seemingly went on forever. After several deep sighs, Hannah spoke.

           “Colin, did you see a white rabbit hop by?” Colin shook his head slowly.

           “No, but I imagine we’ll be seeing St. Peter any time now!”

           No rabbit appeared, nor did St. Peter. They did notice a door at the other end of the slab where a second before, all was flat. What good to go through a door that only drops into oblivion on the other side? Still, there was nothing else to explore.

           “There’s a padlock on this crazy door. You didn’t happen to bring a magic key with you, did you darling?”

           “Colin, you know what trouble I have in remembering where I’ve left my house keys, let alone remembering to bring a magic key. You should have thought of that!”

           She turned the pockets of her nightshirt inside out and laughed, proving she had in fact brought only herself, and Colin laughed, showing his empty pockets as well. So, they laughed and laughed, rolling to the edge of the marble-like slab suspended in the clouds of fog.

           “Oops, hold on, don’t leave me now!”

           Hannah caught herself just in time. Whew, her sides ached. They composed themselves. “Look! The padlock’s open, it’s open. We opened it with our laughter!”

           Colin reached the door first, lifting off the padlock, and watched the door slowly swing wide open.

           They stared in disbelief, what little they had left, at the scenery just beyond the door. They walked through and entered the most beautiful place they had ever seen. It was beyond imagination. Amazing wildflowers of every kind and color filled the valley to the right. Ahead were majestic mountains reaching clear to the stars shining in the deep darkness above, the lighter blue of the daytime also visible. Night and day, all in one. To the left, another meadow with tall grasses and rivulets. Behind them, the door and the platform had disappeared, leaving a road, a simple dirt road, with flat lands and various shrubs and trees speckled along the way. They turned around and round and joined hands and started singing, “London Bridge is falling down,” and fell down they did and opened their eyes anew and sat, for a very long time. The day and night remained the same. The beauty was too much. They cried.

           Later, “Colin, I’m hungry. Let’s just walk down that path. Maybe something will pop up, like a full four-course meal complete with a bottle of Dom Pérignon!”

           “I’d settle for a bowl of rice at this point, but let’s go, something is bound to appear.”

           Then they walked, bathed in sunlight and moonlight, listening to the sound of their footsteps along the earthen path. No table appeared, laden with fruit or bread or wine. There were no berry bushes, or apple trees; only the road that kept going on and on, steady and continuous.

           “I’m not hungry anymore, Colin, just very tired. Can’t we stop for a while? That is such a lovely willow tree over there. So green and lush. Let’s rest for a bit, I’m so sleepy.”

           “Yes, my love, I am tired too.”

           So, they laid down under the waiting branches of the tree, curled up together, and went to sleep, forever in each other’s arms.