Chapters (50)
‘I know, it’ll still be there.’
‘Hebrwng Hamza …’
Efa looked at his face. He was determined. His breathing heavy, heaving. Rattling. And suddenly, she knew what he was trying to say.
‘Hebrwng?’
He nodded.
‘You want to go with Hamza?’
He nodded. Efa felt the stinging of sudden tears. She shook her head.
‘You’re too ill.’
He smiled. He reached for her hand.
‘No,’ she said.
‘I must take him.’
Efa shook her head again.
‘Yes, please … Efa …’ He was squeezing her hand now. His eyes pleading.
‘Please let me go.’
This was his wish. To light the way home for Hamza. She felt the swell of her tears in her throat. He was saying goodbye.
Joseph had one more person to see. He was waiting for him to finish his shift, so he walked to the lighthouse on the headland. Sat with his back against it. Waited for dusk. He never contemplated the sea, not like Nefyn did. He worked it, got what he could from it, but found no communion with it. He had naturally lowered his gaze over the years so as not to look for the horizon, the luminous strip that seemed to taunt him if he accidentally caught sight of it. His father had told him that the sea swallowed lives. That once you were tied to it, it would take your mornings and your days, your life and your son’s life, but that somehow you would gladly give it. He said that the sea had its own thirst.
Tonight, though, he looked out, watched it breathing quietly, consciously. He had thought once to emigrate. To somewhere mountainous, away from the sea, as far as he could. He wondered if that would make him feel at peace. Somewhere arid where dust would stick to the back of your throat. He had shared that dream with some girlfriends. Allowed them to build lives in their heads. Dreams of starting again, in mountains and forests, having children. Some girls he had allowed to fill in all the details, before taking it all away again. But he believed it too, just for a few moments, here and there.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted from the sea either. A revelation? An apology? All he knew was that he felt burdened by it. Suppressed by it. Owned by it. Its infinite expanse taunted him even tonight. It was heartless. Perhaps that was it. It gave life, sustained you and drowned you in one tide. He did not know why, but he found himself with tears on his face. For the first time in years. He felt his throat tighten and his face crumple, a wave of angry tears flood his being. He pushed them away, wiped them on his jeans as the sea breathed indifferently below.