1.2.11

true colours

i was watching a woman on the ferry, this afternoon. she had long, wiry grey hair and small rectangular glasses. she sat down opposite me - even though there were plenty of other seats and i'd deliberately  plumped myself up and stretched my bags across the banquette so i'd have the table to myself. nothing personal, i just prefer to sit alone on the ferry. i peeked at her through my dark sunglasses, wondering if she'd want to chat. i didn't. i wanted to stare at the water but found myself staring at her instead.
she looked at me a few times, quietly and steadily - enough so i had to make a bit of a show of busyness to prove i was unavailable for banter. i pulled out my phone and flicked off some texts; grabbed the kindle and fiddled through some pages; dredged up a foodie mag from my bottomless-pit of a bag, which kept me occupied for about 5 minutes; then, popped up to the cafe for a bag of chips and ate them very slowly.
she, on the other hand, sat quite still and rested her head on one hand, propped up by her elbow. she looked out the window and i noticed the sunlight catching some fine lines around her mouth. her eyebrows were slightly raised and gave the impression that she was a little perturbed.
perhaps she sensed me looking at her, for she turned to me and said, "isn't it hot?" I lifted my dark glasses, so as not to be rude, and mumbled an affirmation. we looked at each other and neither of us spoke. her eyes were light blue and crisp - not at all gluey or watery with age. she had a sort of sparkle, if i'm being fanciful, and i felt myself smiling at her.
i couldn't think of anything to say so i didn't try and she turned her sparkle back to the water.
the ferry headed into the bay and i started gathering my things, ready to make a run for the exit. she pulled her carpet bag onto the table and leaned her arms against it.
"what a beautiful coloured bag," i said to her.
"yes, isn't it? my husband bought it for me in Singapore. he saw it in a shop window and brought me to see it the next day. he said it reminded him of me - bright and colourful," she giggled. i felt a sort of sick sadness in my stomach. this little grey haired woman had once been loved and cherished. now, her man had gone and she was left with the bag that served as a memory of his long ago declarations. suddenly, i wanted to talk with her. i wanted to know all about her life with her man and her travels to exotic places and her thoughts about everything.
we both stood while the ferry was being tied to the wharf and i kept my eyes on her. she looked over and smiled and again mentioned the heat. i saw small droplets glistening in her silver hairline and i imagined her making her way home on the bus and unlocking her door, patting her cat and sitting in front of a brisk fan. i hoped she had something cool to drink in her fridge.
on the gangplank she turned, smiled once more and said, "have a lovely day, dear. stay nice and cool." i nodded and said, "yes, you too. have a good night."
i walked behind her, weaving around the crowds of tourists which flood our small island throughout the summer. i kept sight of her as she headed to the parking lot and into the embrace of an older, distinguished looking man who towered above her. i quickened my pace to get a better look and saw them walking, hand in hand, to a nice late model sedan - which, i'm now convinced, was equipped with air conditioning.




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