Dalia undresses him. Tirad lies on the deck, next to Narivan, although he avoids looking at his agonising face. He lets Dalia lead as she has leaded the boat and his downfall as a disciple. But Dalia stops her moist kisses and stands. Unties her leather band from her neck and lets her covering cloth slide down. She pulls Tirad up and takes him to the gunwale.

“You can tread the water, right?” she asks, and Tirad nods. He knows how to swim as well until his heart allows him and he can still breathe. She helps him step into the water, leading again with her fluid movement. She continues kissing him in the water, this time mixed with the salty taste of the sea. Tirad hears a sound like a boat splitting the waves and moving forward or a school of fish that have come to the surface only to dive back in again with a splash. Or perhaps he is mistaking. There is no other sound but the both of them panting fast and the moist breeze whirling in his ears. Maybe it’s the bubbles bursting on the surface that have been made by the movement of their hands and legs in the water. He can’t hear anything anymore. He can’t sense anything even the salty taste of the sea. His senses have been reduced to only one sense: touch! He can feel the whole world by the touch of his sunburnt skin. This epiphany, this new cognition of himself and the world has taken him unawares, rushing blood to his waist and thighs. Dalia takes her under the water, as she gently presses him to her body and moves softly. Tirad doesn’t know how his heart is taking so much excitement and pleasure without making him breathless. Or maybe the hole in his heart has been filled with the magic of Dalia’s nail-less fingers and her amazing eyes that are not framed with lashes. They move simultaneously, twisting around each other until he finally feels the release that makes him sigh deeply and move up to the surface with gentle strokes of the water. As he comes up, he gets his senses back. He is hearing something. Dalia kisses him one more time and swims apart lying supine on the water. She looks more beautiful than ever. But she gets back to him horridly. She has heard it too!

Tirad wants to stay on the surface a little longer, to embrace Dalia and take in her scent, now that his senses have woken again. He likes to watch the moon light reflect from her hair less scalp and try to see the distinct line between Dalia’s body and the sea. Even though he has felt her soft skin, muscles and thighs and has entered her body, he still can’t distinguish the border line of her figure and the water. But Dalia is frightened. She climbs the boat and helps Tirad come up. Tirad can’t stand up straight. He leans against the gunwale, hardly standing on his legs. A boat is coming towards them with their spotlight fixed on them. The stranger boat is rowing towards them with their engine off. Tirad can’t see how many passengers are on the approaching boat or see the boat clearly; the sharp light of the spotlight has blinded him, keeping the boat in a shadow. Dalia goes to the wheel to start the engine and sail away from there. But another sound stops her. The spotlight turns away from them shining on the surface of the water. A school of white dolphins – each of them at least twice the size of a man – circle around the stranger boat. The dolphins squeal and bang themselves against the boat. The boat has no other way than to turn away. As the stranger boat sails in the opposite direction, the dolphins dive into the water and swim away. Tirad can still hear their stretched squealing sound that will always remind him of his first lovemaking.