11.3 Go Fish!

We crossed the wet soil to find a suitable spot in the breezy front under the tall coconut palms. There were few beach lovers sitting around in small groups because it rained all night. It was cold and cloudy. We spread our towels and could not hold them in the wind. We dropped on our bottoms and remained seated rather than lying down on the wet soil.

I glanced up at the palms, “Won’t a coconut drop on us in the wind?”

“You are very thoughtful,” she returned to say, “They routinely clean the palms.”

Anyway, it was a tittering beach day. We couldn’t even see the sunrise because of the cloudy sky. I could see thin lines of magenta bursts in between the clouds.

“Hey Sophie!” I was asking, “Why didn’t you have a basement parking at your place?”

 “That was not even thought of at the time,” she responded, “I think six years ago I did that plan. And now it’s too low.”

“I see your place from surf point, Virile Waves. I thought that is the best-looking façade in Salt Waters.”

“Thank you,” she said, “I do like it too. And the interior floor plan is really good.”

“Who did the plan?” I just asked to carry on with the conversation.

“A small firm that Gabi recommended. Fenfiyaz Architects. A girl called Shalin did the whole plan.”

“Shalin?” I uttered.

“Do you know her?” she asked quizzically.

“No. Tell me about this architect. Do you have an address or a phone number.”

“I have it somewhere. It is not here in my phone. It must be on the blueprint.”

“How old is she, this Shalin?”

“She was young, mid-twenties. I believe she was having a toddler at that time.”

“There’s a girl called Shalin staying at my place.”

“Is she from Jamaica?”

“Jamaica! I have no idea. She has short hair and wears glasses.”

“She wears glasses. I know this Shalin I’m talking about is from Jamaica and of a Chinese descend.”

“Chinese descend?”

“Yes, there was a small group of Chinese Hakka in Jamaica and a generation grew out of those migrants. Some with dark skin. Shalin is light toned. Your friend, is she an architect?”

“I don’t know that. I think she is much younger. I believe she is a Nadine girl.” I said brushing sand off my palms, “Let it go, I’m not too eager to find out.”

It was light in the sky and the chilling wind sent goosebumps on skin. I pulled on my windbreaker and she did as well pull on her shirt. The best part of a beach day is you don’t give up.

“Do you know a girl called Amelia?” I asked.

“No. Who is she?” Sophie took my cigarette from my hand with two fingers and had a pull.

“Or a place called Guesthouse?”

“No,” her tone lingered cutely.

“Corales maybe, another name?”

“Why? I never heard before.” She released smoke and passed me the butt.

I chuckled, “I had an incredible dream. I saw you and I at a guesthouse. It’s just crazy.”

“Tell me,” Sophie Nadz was interested, “Was it a wet dream?”

I frowned, “Yeah! You can say that. Very wet. We were bathing in a swimming pool.”

“Was I naked?”

“Not in the pool but later in the room, yes.”

“Tell me what you saw?”

“I can’t remember,” I wanted to spurn this talk.

“Did you see my pussy?”

My eyes crossed her legs. Good Lord! I glanced into her eyes and nodded.

“If you see that area of a woman in your dream, that means you are going to sin. There is a sign.”

“I actually saw it,” I told her, “In my dream, you opened your legs and showed to me. You asked me to look at your bonus hole.”

She laughed aloud boisterously. That was really something we enjoyed on the beach.

“Did you sin after that?” she asked trying to hold her laughter.

“I did.” She burst again. Something popped out under her panties.

Sophie could hardly speak through her chortles, “What did you do?”

“I fucked Shalin.”

She dropped in the sand on her back breaking in a reverberating laughter.