The Island - Anita's Day 01-02

I cleaned up the table after we ate up. Don't get me wrong, I ain't, and probably never going to be no housewife, but I was all for equality. Dads caught the food; Martin prepared it. It was only fair of me to settle the aftermath. It took me no more than ten minutes to clean everything up, and now it was time to do some drinking. Yeah, I know, they say you can have fun without alcohol. Also, you can run with no running shoes, but those shoes do fuckin' help, don't they?

I poured out whatever was left in the bottle, which made me a bit worried: "I hope that's not all of the wine? I'm jus' getting' thirsty, guess I picked that up from Dads, heh heh."

Dads gently smiled at me. Yeah, usually dads aren't really happy about their daughters drinking, but he knew I took after him in some way, so there was no place for hypocrisy: "Oh-eh, really kid? Ya wanna say I drink a lot, or tha' ya can handle some?"

"C'mon Dads, I know ya always put all yar buddies under the table before ya even started slurrin'. I got that trait from ya," I replied.

"Oh really? So, ya're getting' yar friends drunk, ya poor lassie? Good thing ya're not drivin' them to sober up in the ER," Dads said, trying to act all parental on me, but he was always a bad actor. Shoot me -- I never withheld myself, and yet I was always the last person standing at the parties.

"I know, old man. Tha's my destiny. So, we better be careful not to put our dear host under tha table tonight," I smirked at him. "I wouldn' want him to go to bed too early, I's a long night." I gave Martin a significant look. God, I was getting so transparent one could've used me as a proper windshield while driving.

I had no idea how much Martin could actually drink. I could only hope that he was either resistant to booze or aware of his limits. One thing I had no desire for was spending half a night trying to put a limp drunk man into the coital mood.

"There are couple more bottles that I brought with me -- there by the fridge -- if you feel like bringing them over," Martin finally replied to my initial question. I was back in the house faster than a speeding bullet. If there was the tallest building to jump over, I'd do that too.

Dads and Martin commented something while I was inside -- probably Dads 'complaining' about me planning to get drunk tonight, but I couldn't care less. And I wasn't really about getting wasted; I just wanted to speed up some processes. If the post-dinner conversation was going to stretch out for too long, I'd just mind a bit more about the wine distribution, that's all.

As the Man in Black played some lovely tunes in the background, we enjoyed ourselves more and more, talking about this and that, first about the present, then the near past of the Island, until we finally stepped into the territory of years long gone.

"Oh my, I remember when we were all together here one year, I think ya were about seventeen," Dads addressed Martin in one of those 'when I was younger' tones of voice. He was so funny, trying to appear as some worn out captain of the adventure ship. "Ya were still comin' here with yar folks -- ya always stayed at Baba Branka's place in that luvly apartment. Your Pops," he stopped. Dads always got a tear in his eye when he remembered one of his dearest friends -- Martin's dad. "God bless 'is immortal soul, always complained tha' they had to practic'ly drag ya over here as ya were sayin' ya'll die of boredom on the Island, tha' they didn' understan' ya. And then ya mingled with tha' lil' German girl, Inge or sumthin..."

"Ingrid," Martin corrected him. "And I was sixteen. Trust me, I remember that." Duh. What man wouldn't exactly remember what exact date, time, weather and stock prices were when he first got laid.

"Well, as long as she was 'ere you jumped 'round 'er like a peacock, and suddenly the Island was tha pretties' place in the World for ya," Dads continued.

"Ante, of course I did, I lost my virginity with her," Martin said proudly.

I had to giggle at that. Ingrid was kind of like me -- but German, if you get my drift. "Ah hah... Tha's why

I had to pack home early that summer? I thought ya were mad at me..." I pretended to be sad. Really, really badly.

"Oh come on, you were a kid following me everywhere. I couldn't have taken you with Ingrid and me to the beach..." Martin actually took me seriously.

"And I thought ya hated me and didn' like me 'cause I was still a kid," I swear to God, I almost managed to shed a fake tear.

"How could I hate you?" Martin asked, all worried that he hurt my feelings some fourteen years back.

"You were just in the way when a perky German was giving me some really ambitious sex lessons. It wasn't plausible with you in the vicinity. I think you get it today, right?"

"Today I do. Well, I hope she taught you well," I said, unconsciously giving him a deep, inquisitive stare. A second later, I became aware of it as I sensed Dads was eyeballing me, so I quickly straightened out.

"I believe she did. Never had any complaints later in life. Not even Darling, a creature of its own kind, had anything to object to in that area," Martin replied completely seriously.

God damn, why'd have to mention that bitch. Even today, I'd get crazy hearing her name. Fortunately, nothing else was said about her, as we reminisced Martin's teenage days. I remembered how his cruel buddies were convincing a young, maybe nine-year-old me they were gonna do some bad stuff to me if I ever told on them drinking, smoking weed, kissing and groping girls... But it was so funny because all grown-ups knew what they were doing on the beach. I mean, it's a really small Island, and they were so lazy that they spent evenings and night right there on the main Town beach. Dads knew every step they took, 0-24. And, according to him, it was all completely normal, nothing to worry about. And he was right -- none of those people ended up on the wrong side of life.

"Do ya know why Anita stopped comin' to the Island?" Dads suddenly asked Martin. Oh, damn! He and his weird ways of trying to... Hell, I had no idea what he was trying -- he was either scaring Martin off or prepping the terrain for me. Dads' mind sometimes worked in really mysterious ways, even for me. Anyway, he did manage to make me blush slightly, as I felt the heat rising in my cheeks. I slapped him gently on his hand.

"Dads, please don't..." I said a bit uneasily. Honestly, I didn't want that story told by him. If anyone was supposed to tell Martin about it, it was me.

"Come on luv, i's been seven years, wha's that gotta do with anythin' now?" Dads turned to me, his voice calm but his eyes showing a bunch of cogs spinning in his head.

"Noooo, what'll he think of me?" I know. Pathetic. But it was kind of protocolary to say something like that when the inconvenient truth about you was going to be revealed.

"Whatever, he's grown up, he'll understan'," Dads dismissed me and turned to Martin again: "Anyhow, ya just got together with Darlin' before tha' summer, right?" Martin nodded. He was already getting a pretty good idea where this was going at. Dads continued: "So I called Anita -- it was gonna be the firs' or maybe the secon' summer since her mother and I got divorced -- to talk about her comin' over. I casually mentioned that ya'r comin' with yar new girl, and she starts to weep on tha phone. So I was all dumbfounded, askin' 'er wha's going on, luv and such... At firs' she didn' wanna tell me, and then she admits she's in luv with ya, tha' her world crumbled to pieces and tha' she can't bear to see ya anymore. So I told her not to come."

I looked at Martin. He was actually surprised, but not in a bad way. I mean, I've never given him even the slightest hint about my feelings back then. Now that it was out of the can, and Martin showed no uncomfortableness about it, I relaxed, deciding that it would maybe be wiser for me to control the remainder of the story. OK, not the whole remainder, some details were not for disclosure in front of Dads, as much as we had an honest relationship.

"Oh my, Dads..." I said, wanting to break up whatever storyline he had in mind. "When I remember that... I wanted to kill myself, to kill Darlin'. I never met 'er, and yet I hated her more than the devil 'imself."

"See, she always told me everythin'," Dads said proudly. Dear Dads, not 'everything' everything, to be honest. "I understood her crazy teenage head much more than her own mother. Then I told 'er not to come if she'd feel bad. I know wha' it's like, bein' in luv with someone who ignores ya, I've been there when I was young. And, honestly, I was 'oping that yar thin' with the Darlin' will be over soon. Truth to be told, I never liked 'er."

Now Martin did take on a slightly shocked look. Unfortunately, I was still not able to read minds at that time (unlike today, when I also can't - but 'at that time' sounded too good not to be included), so I presumed he wondered about my prolonged absence from the Island since then.

"Listen, deary, no worries... I found myself a boy in the City later. I's not as if I 'adn't came to the Island for seven years 'cause of ya and Darlin'," I lied through my teeth. Sue me, sometimes you just can't tell the whole truth immediately. "It was just a teenage crush," I lied some more. "Ya were my role model, and I thought we were gonna marry as soon as I turn eighteen," I finished off with another lie. I never cared about getting married or imagined myself in a wedding gown.

"I think Ante would have a lot to object to such wedding," Martin commented.

"Honestly, Ya'd be much better choice than all those other punks she introduced me to. At least I know ya, boy. Tha' doesn' mean ya'd get off easy, she's my only child and I want nothin' short of perfection for her," Dads replied to Martin, sounding like a proper father for just that one minute. Also, this gave me a boost. He was prepping it, rather than preventing it. My Dads, always my favorite parent.

"C'mon now Dads, ya can be calm now. There's no boy now, I'm 'ere on the Island with ya now, and look who's with us 'ere. Jus' like good ol' times," I told Dads, going for the cliché.

"Ya said it," Pops immediately smiled wide. "It's luvly to see us. Or better said, to see two of ya. I just go old, and ya're like a pretty picture -- good lookin', smart, grown-up people."

"As for the looks, you can say that for Anita, but how did you get to pick me in the beauty contest?" Martin asked immediately.

The wine in me immediately made me compliment him properly: "Whatcha talkin' 'bout? Ya look better than the las' time I saw ya. Ya're like wine, the older, the better." I grabbed his hand across the table without even thinking.

"OK, thanks for the compliment," Martin thanked me and squeezed my hand. He wasn't even remotely insecure about his looks, but even he wasn't immune to getting a compliment from a young girl.

Somehow, that ended the subject of my teenage love pains. We chatted some more, mostly about irrelevant stuff, as the second bottle mysteriously emptied out and the third one was already in circulation. Without us even noticing it, the night fell, and we were sitting in darkness, broken only by the remaining embers still smoking inside the grill. The sky was completely clear, and the millions of stars were already creating the most magnificent night dome imaginable, with the moon slowly rising over the thick forest grow in the East. In about an hour, the full moon would probably make the night almost as bright as the dawn, which suited me perfectly.

In the midst of a moment of silence, as we all turned our heads to admire the vastness above us, Dads suddenly yawned: "Kids, I'll 'ead home slowly and leave ya two to continue with catchin' up. I believe ya've got much more to talk about without me around." Then he suddenly looked at me: "Anita, please jus' remember wha' we talked 'bout before comin' over."

Oh, God. Really, Dads? After your little story, we're back to that? Just as I thought I got him figured out... "Alright Dads, don't worry. I'll be 'ere for a bit more, then I'll jump in the sea." Not alone, cross my fingers.

"OK, ya jus' enjoy yarselves," Dads suddenly said cheerfully. "An' don' get too drunk!"

"We won't, Dads (Ante)!" Martin said simultaneously with me, and it made us both laugh out. "There ya go, as if seven years never passed. We both know wha' to say to ya and when, Dads."

Dads got up, taking his time, and then vanished into the night. I was always wondering what would happen if some unknowing tourist suddenly bumped into him in the middle of the night, him walking around with no source of light. Poor soul would probably get consecutive heart attacks. I don't know why that made me chuckle a bit every time. Probably for the same reason as any politically incorrect joke does.

We sat there in silence for a while. Thievery Corporation gently protruded from the speakers, swaying us both in semi-trance in this silent summer evening. If it weren't for a couple of mosquitoes, all would be just perfect. Except... I felt the anxiety creeping in. Not the bad kind, but the type that hit me anytime I was about to do something big. The only way to stop it was to do the thing I was supposed to do. It took me another ten seconds to finally put things into motion.

"Let's go down to the beach. Just take the glass with ya," I said to Martin. Without waiting for his reply, I simply got up and took off, minding sideways if Martin was following me. He was. Oh, my...

I headed directly towards the swim spot and picked the same rock on which I saw him fucking that beauty yesterday. Of course it wasn't by accident. Besides the fact that it will surely bring up some fine memories in his brain, the spot was a perfect location for jumping straight down into the sea without hitting something hard mid-flight. The adjacent islands were now just dark shades, speckled with occasional blobs of light. I knew the names of every village, every hill and every inlet on all of them. It was mandatory for all of us Islanders to learn the geography surrounding us before learning to walk, of course. In the old days, that knowledge could mean the difference between life and death. Now, it was just a matter of culture to know your neighbors.

As we both sat down on the rock, I noticed Martin scanning the rock with interest, but with his eyes half-closed. I mean, who'd blame him? If it had happened to me, I'd also be thinking about it. Actually, I was thinking about it. I remembered him, drilling into her from underneath her. Her hair flailing around as she humped him, smacking into his pubic bone with audible delight. And I was wet again. I wanted to touch myself right there and then, but there were matters to be settled before... Well, before I find out how my next orgasm will be produced.

"Ya know, I didn' want ya to learn 'bout sum things like that," I started talking. "Dads fucked it up prop'rly."

Martin took a moment to form a reply: "Eh, don't worry. We're all humans. Anyway, bygones be bygones..." Yeah, sure. Bygones...

"Look, it ain't that simple. It never is," I said. Actually, it was pretty simple, come to think of it, but was planning on telling that later on. "I was definitely plannin' to talk with ya 'bout sum things while ya're 'ere. I told that to Dads, to let 'im know I'll confess. He was against it, afraid it'll create problems between us. That's why we got into a fight. Guess he believed if he told the story while we're all together, the story would jus' slip by. I luv 'im, but he can be a bit naïve. Somewhat old-fashioned in sum matters."

"He's your old man; he loves you. He probably thought it'd be embarrassing. But honestly, after last night words can hardly be embarrassing," Martin replied, emphasizing 'last night.' Well, guess he wasn't about to beat around the bush anymore -- if there were any bush to beat around, that is.

"Oh really, eh? Ya liked it, ya old fool, waving your pecker in front of me like tha'?" I teased him. Why wouldn't he, anyway. He had the equipment good enough for waving around.

"That, and also the unexpected viewing of something I never expected to see," Martin replied.

"Whatcha talkin' 'bout?" I asked, acting as thick as a doorknob.

"Your changing. Or rather, putting on the bathing suit," Martin clarified, so I wouldn't confuse what he meant with, for example, a sighting of a beautiful owl flying across the crescent moon.

"Ah," I said knowingly. Well, since we were now at that point -- and it really took almost no time to get there -- I decided it was time to tell him the full story of me, and not just the summary Pops was able to provide. "Let's start from the beginning."

"You mean, from where Ante should have started?" Really, Martin? Suddenly your deduction was impeccable?

"Yep," I replied and nodded. "When I was fourteen, I noticed... Well, ya know I entered puberty rather late, like, I didn't need the bikini top until then?"

"Yeah, I remember. Some girls even teased you over it," Martin replied

"Don't remind me... Lil' bitches, I ain't even sayin' hi to them when I see 'em," I said. It was bullshit; I had coffee with one of the girls that morning. But a good story needs some exaggeration, right? "Well, anyways, that summer ya came to the Island, and I saw you and felt somehow weird in your presence. I really wanted to be near ya, always and anywhere, I wanted to touch ya, hug ya, kiss ya... I knew it was a crush, read sumthin' 'bout it. And I was thinkin' ya'll surely notice me at some moment."

"But you never said or did anything to show," Martin interrupted, seeming genuinely nonplussed.

"C'mon, I was ashamed. Ya were already in college, wha'd lil' ol' me mean to ya. And then, one time when ya, Jose and that little Slovenian guy -- ya know, he used to come 'ere before -- went sumwhere tha' night, so I wanted to go with ya. Ya'll sent me packin' like I was sum vermin. But I followed ya. And saw ya goin' to the beach with sum girls. I watched ya for hours from behin' tha bushes. I think ya were drinkin' sumthin', smoked a joint probably. And then decided to go for a swim. Skinny-dippin', of course. That was the first time I saw ya in the nude -- from far away and in the dark, surely, nothing much to be seen. But it was more than enough for me. I was done for..."

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. But it was the time when we were only looking to drink, get high and score... Score with someone our age, you were simply too young," Martin replied in a -- damn, bad choice of words, but -- fatherly tone of voice.

"Yeah, but that was my first time..."

"First time what?"

So, I'll edit out this little part of the story. Not much of it, but it kinda goes too far for the feeble-minded. Not that I have any problems with it. Well, chastity above else. OK, fast forward some thirty seconds.

„...I'm just feeling a bit weird, I wasn't even trying to imagine that I was a subject of your desire," Martin replied to my disclosure.

"Well, after that summer I waited a whole year to see ya again," I told him. It was time to tell him all of it. My make or break moment. "My boobs had grown, I felt like a grown woman, so I thought ya'll finally notice me when we see each other. But when Dads told me the next summer ya're comin' with a girlfriend, I just fell apart. I 'avent gone out of my room for a few days, I cried, tellin' myself and my Mom that the World's gone to shite. I kept thinkin' how ya fucked it up and who's tha' bitch who stole ya from under my nose..."

"Oh, Anita..." Martin said, practically taking pity on me. Honest to God, I almost cringed at his tone of voice. "You were fifteen, and I knew you since you were eight or nine. I couldn't imagine looking at you that way. Actually, it would make me a pedophile. And Ante would probably pierce me with his harpoon."