I'm sleeping like a rock, wiped out from the day. I dream I'm at my ex-girlfriend's wedding.
It pisses me off that she's getting married, but there's nothing I can do. Eh, that's life. At least I can do some damage. I'm gonna eat like a pig.
I bounce from table to table, piling my plate high. My eyes flick fast from one platter to the next. Hell of a wedding! I've got everything--take your pick. Would've been nice to have a bigger plate! By the time I'm done, I've got slices of tender ham, open-faced sandwiches, savory pastries, cookies, ladyfingers, and every other good thing I can find.
Goddamn it, no fish! No fish for me! I said I don't want fish, thank you very much! No fish, no roe, no seafood!
And just as I sit down at a table and I'm about to attack my plate, my dream stops cold: I get a jab in the ribs.
"I don't want fish!"
"Listen to this guy!" Eva laughs. "Fish!"
"What? What happened?"
"Nothing happened. It's just that you've been ripping farts for like an hour now and I'm sick of it."
I rub my eyes. Oh, great--I'm still on this goddamn beach.
"Me, ripping farts?" I snap. "Me? What the hell, that's impossible--I barely ate anything today! What are you talking about, girl? What time is it?"
"I'd tell you," Eva says with a sneer, "but my phone is somewhere around here, in this salty soup. Tiberiu, come on, let's talk a little. I can't sleep. Where are you from? Like, what country?"
I think about the sandwiches I left behind on my dream plate, and I feel myself starting to hate Eva. Goddamn it! Another weirdo in the mood to chat in the middle of the night.
"I'm not from any country. Let me sleep."
"Come on, tell me!"
"I'm an islander. I'm the king of this island."
"Nonsense! Why won't you tell me, huh? Why?"
"Because I read somewhere you're not supposed to judge a man by his nationality."
"Well look at you--A-plus answer. Bravo! You're Italian, aren't you?"
"Me? Ha, ha! You crack me up. No, sweetheart, I'm no damn macaroni-eater. Where'd you get that?"
"Well, your name is Tiberiu. That's why. Besides, your English is so pathetic you could just as easily be Turkish or an Eskimo."
"You got me. I'm an Eskimo! Can I sleep now?"
I yawn and stretch out. God, those sandwiches...
"Hold on!" she blurts out. "Scoot your head a little to the right. There. You know what? You really do have an Eskimo profile. Did you know Eskimos kiss with their noses?"
"What a dumb thing!"
"Why is it dumb? That's what they've done for thousands of years. It's normal for them."
"Then that means Eskimos are suckers. I'm not judging them by nationality, but yeah--they're suckers. Good night!"
"I love how fast you jump to conclusions," she says, wide-eyed.
"And I love that we made up and you're not mad at me anymore."
"And I love the fact that I got shipwrecked on a deserted island and I'm sitting here chatting with a bearded Eskimo."
"Bullshit! It's obvious, you're crazy about me. What, you feel like fooling around? Why don't you just say it? Say it straight."
"I hope you didn't think I wanted to sleep with you again," she laughs softly.
"No? You don't want me anymore? Fine. Good night!"
"I never wanted you. I was just teasing you and you took it seriously. The sex was an accident."
She's impossible. Where are my sandwicheeees? I abandoned a plate full of ham and savory pastries for what? For this conversation? Damn it!
"Now you really pissed me off."
"Ha, ha!"
"Will you cut it out with that laughing already! You're driving me crazy."
"Interesting. In the moonlight you look even older. Might be the beard too. No, no! You really are old! What rotten luck for me to end up here with an old pervert, horny as hell, and with a long beard. Listen to him, he wants to sleep with me. You seriously don't have an ounce of shame? I could be your daughter."
She's right.
"How old are you, Eva?"
"I'm turning twenty-six soon. In May. On May twenty-third."
"And I turned forty-four last month."
"Ooooold maaaan!"
"44 minus 26... eighteen years' difference. You, my daughter? What a good joke! I'll confess something, kiddo: when I was eighteen, I was still a virgin, so you've got no chance of calling me Dad."
"Shut up!"
"Why?"
"But shut up already!" she whispers. "I heard a weird noise!"
"Where?"
"Don't talk!" she whispers fast. "Don't breathe. Shut up and listen carefully."
I listen, ears perked, for a few seconds. We're on an island. Other than waves and wind, what weird noises can you hear on an island? I focus even harder.
And right then, Eva lets out the most shameless, loud fart I've ever heard in my life. And she laughs like crazy.
"Yeah... real funny... Hilarious, Eva!"
Good God, my heart jumped out of my chest! What a scare!
"You still love me now?"
"I can't believe something like that came out of a scrawny little thing like you! Shame on you! You know what? I'm taking my toys and going home. I'm too old for this crap. My heart's too weak."
I get up and storm off. Eva's giggling behind me. What an idiot! I need to get away from her.
And suddenly I trip and go down flat on the sand.
I curse, get up, and rub my shin with my palm. Ah, that hurts! It hurts like hell! What the hell did I trip on?
I look around and get the shock of my life.
"Eva!" I shout. "Evaaa! Get over here! Now!"
"Not a chance," she cackles from the dark.
I grab my head with both hands and stare, stunned, at the spectacle around me.
"I'm not joking!" I scream toward her. "Get over here! You have to see something!"
Eva appears, surprised, and stops short. She presses her palms to her cheeks and her eyes go wide.
"Fantastic!" she says, looking around. "I've never seen anything like this in my life!"
Truth is, me neither. I've never had the chance to see hundreds of sea turtles gathered on the same beach.
I look toward the waves. It's only the beginning. Dozens of turtles come out of the water and head for the shore.
I look at Eva and she looks at me. The turtles look at us.
Sleep's gone.