Time for a Friend

Amber had started her vacation alone, with the idea that she would spend it on the beach watching the ocean, meditating, and finding her post-divorce inner peace. Instead, she met Doralis the first morning, and spent most of her time with the local woman. Still, she found the inner calm she sought whenever they were together.

When Amber first met Doralis, she was struck by the beauty of the lithe woman with deep brown skin warmed by red undertones, a few strands of grey in her dark dreadlocks, and eyes that sparkled on the edge of brown and black with an ageless intensity. After the first morning they spent together on the beach, it was Doralis’ personality and perspective that kept her interested.

Compared to her new Dominican friend, Amber was a ghost. Thanks to the liberal and repeated application of SPF 100, she hadn’t burned but had a hint of a tan that she hadn’t seen since college. The sun had faded the ends of her hair from a mousy brown to the strawberry blonde it had been in her childhood.

“You all right there, Amber?” Doralis asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.

“What’s that?”

“You all right? You’re looking too thoughtful. Dame dato.”

“It’s just, my flight home is tomorrow. There’s nothing waiting for me in Newark outside of my job and an empty apartment.”

Doralis put a hand on Amber’s shoulder. “You know, girl, there’s a lot more to you than just your relationships.”

“I know.” Amber grasped the other woman’s hand. “I feel more myself, more comfortable, here than anywhere else.”

“Is it the place, or the company?” Doralis asked with a wink.

Amber chuckled. “Maybe a little of the first, and a lot of the second. I just wish this could last a little longer.”

“I understand. You have beaches there?”

“Hah, not really. There’s a beach in Brooklyn, but it’s not like this.”

“Maybe not the same, but you make friends easy, no?”

Amber shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I’m usually pretty shy. You’re just so easy to talk to. It’s like you’re a best friend and trusted elder at the same ti—I’m sorry. My god! I didn’t mean it like you’re old….”

Doralis broke off her apology with laughter. “I know what you were trying to say. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings about age. You’re still a child to me, so it’s fine.”

“I don’t feel like a child. After the divorce, I feel like every second of my thirty-two years.”

It was Doralis’ turn to chuckle. “Exactly. A child. And before you ask, I’m older than I look.”

“I wasn’t going to ask that. I do have a question, though.”

“Ask.”

“Is it okay if we just stay here and watch the sunset?”

“Of course. You know you can write to me when you get home and I’ll write back.”

Amber sighed. “I want to,” she said, “but realistically, it’ll be sporadic and rare. I’m terrible at keeping in touch with text and email, written letters will probably be worse.”

“At least you’re honest.” They sat as the sun lowered on the horizon, the sky turning pink and orange. “Waiting on a letter from a friend is not a hardship. I’ll look forward to them. Besides, I can’t control you any more than you can control me. The only thing we can control is our own self.”

“Thank you, Doralis.”

“¿Para qué?”

“Para todo. You let me open up and be me. You haven’t talked down to me, you’ve been a friend, even when I was a blubbering mess.”

“It’s easy to be a friend, when you find a friend, no?”

“Yeah. You are easy to be friends with.”

“So you say,” Doralis said, “but many find themselves uncomfortable in my presence. I should thank you for talking to me like a normal person. That hasn’t happened for a long time.”

Amber sighed. She worried how her question would be taken, but Doralis had opened up the subject. “If it’s none of my business, that’s fine, but…why do the locals avoid you? You’re so kind, it doesn’t make sense.”

A soft smile played across Doralis’ face as the sun began to sink below the horizon. “It’s easier to blame things on me, than to take responsibility. When things go wrong, I am too often the chivo expiatorio — the scapegoat.”

Amber leaned on the smiling woman’s shoulder. “That’s dumb. All they have to do is spend some time with you, and they’d know you’re kind.”

“I try to be,” she said. “I try very hard.”

“I wish this wasn’t over yet. I’d love to spend more time with you.”

“Hmm. What if you had another three weeks?” Doralis asked.

“That would be awesome.”

The sun disappeared below the horizon, and Doralis raised a hand. The sun began moving back up.

Amber sat up and looked from the horizon to Doralis and back. The sun was moving backwards in an increasing tempo. All around them, people moved backwards at faster and faster paces while time for them still flowed normally. Meanwhile, a beatific smile played on Doralis’ face while her hand hung in the air.

The sun finished its reverse trip and set in the east, rising again in the west to complete the circuit over and over. Twenty times the sun reversed in its course before coming to rest in the morning hours of the twenty-first trip.

“How?”

“I’m older than I look,” Doralis said. “In fact, I’m older than you can imagine.”

“You can control time?”

“Remember what I told you about control just a little while ago?”

“The only thing we can control is our own self.” Amber thought for a moment. “You’re telling me that you are time.”

Doralis smiled. “I am. Now you know why people avoid me. I try to be kind, but my nature leads to....”

“Entropy, decay? Yeah.” Amber laid her head back on Doralis’ shoulder. “Not your fault, any more than I can be faulted for breathing. You’re still the most comforting person I’ve ever met.”

Doralis let out a short laugh. “I like that you still think of me as a person, even when you know what I am.”

Amber shrugged. “What you are doesn’t matter as much as who you are, and who you are is my friend.”