Today was my first day off since I started working out on the boat. Finnr only allowed me to take a break on the condition that I take some fish to the market. I needed one, so I won’t complain. I doubt it was a coincidence. Given that it coincided with several nights of panic attacks. As embarrassing as it all is, I don’t have the capacity to care what other people think anymore. I guess that’s a benefit of being emotionally exhausted all the time.
Most of my morning was spent sprawled out on a rocky beach outside town. Listening to small stones moving back and forth as the tide ebbed further out to sea. I stared up at the sky, watching birds float in the breeze. The sun warmed my soul. My breathing slowed, as time had and I could feel the earth rotate through an empty universe. As I laid there, the wind from the ocean picked up, carrying with it the faint smell of brine. A reminder of my reality. Something felt different though. I wasn’t filled with loneliness. I felt comfortable.
I felt normal.
It was fleeting. A cloud passed overhead, blocking the sun, casting a shadow onto the world around me. The birds above me left to the east in search of warmer temperatures and silence reigned. For the first time since it went dark, the anxieties that had tortured me every night were absent. I was overcome by a feeling of guilt, that I might one day accept this lonely future that fate bestowed upon me. It took me by surprise. I stood up, gathered my things and went back to the house.
After the standard lunch of dried fish and stale crackers, I wandered over to the gardens to see if Halla was there. I missed working with her, moving about the garden pulling weeds. She filled a void in my heart that’s been missing since I was a child. Working with her reminded me of the time I’d spend with my own mother. Watching her sew, or do other chores around the house. She would always take the time to show me what she was doing. And I was always inquisitive enough to stand by watching. Even though our relationship was tumultuous, I still felt a sense of nostalgia for the simpler times that I had with her.
Halla was over in one of the corners of the garden. I walked over to her and greeted her in Icelandic. She waved, and forced out a smile. I could tell that something was off, but didn’t have the language dexterity to find out what. Instead, I crouched down next her and started pulling weeds. We worked together for a about an hour, moving up and down the rows in silence before she stood up and handed me a list of things I needed to get at the market. I took the list, leaned in and gave her a hug. She seemed so frail in my arms. I was about to let go when I felt her body shake a little. It took me a second to realize that she was crying. I froze, unsure of what to do, but my instincts as a human kicked in and I held on for a bit longer until her crying subsided. She pulled back, wiped her eyes, thanked me and walked off in the direction of the house.
I headed over to the market where everyone had gathered to trade food and socialize. It was busy for being such a small town. Spirits seemed high, and the hum of unintelligible small talk was hard to think over. Anna must have seen how lost I was because she came over and asked me if I needed help. I accepted and we walked around looking for items on the list that Halla gave me. Toothpaste. Mutton. Candles. It was such a short list, I wondered why I needed one in the first place. It only took us about thirty minutes to get what we needed, so we decided to go for a walk and catch up.
We made our way up the road that leads to the main highway, past a row of black basalt columns. Etched with a few declarations of love. Ending up on a rocky bluff that overlooks an old cemetery. Neat little rows of crosses lilted in every direction. A few of the newer ones stood upright above the others, as if expecting someone to come and visit at any moment. Anna gestured toward the highway, pointing out the rolling hills that moved up to the high country. That is where she’s been the last few weeks, helping a few others tend the flocks of sheep. I asked if she ever wanted to trade jobs. She laughed and declined, and I sat there wondering if it was actually a joke on my part.
When I started to tell her about the storm we were in, she stopped me and said that a friend of Aldan’s had already told her. Apparently, it was a much bigger deal than I realized and everyone in town had been talking about it. I thought it was business as usual, but I guess I didn’t have a baseline to compare it to. Most people were impressed that we made it back. Some of the more vocal townsfolk voiced their concern about Finnr’s recklessness. Although it seems like they were more concerned about the boat, than our lives. It left me feeling uneasy about spending more time on the ocean.
Anna is a few years younger than I am. She grew up here and spent the majority of her teenage years working on various farms. Doing various chores. Like castrating sheep and slaughtering cows. After graduation, she went to Reykjavik to attend university. I admire her grit, for sure. She’s much more self-sufficient than I am, which is a skill that has become useful lately. She was in a relationship before everything went dark, but didn’t say anything else after that. And I didn’t press the issue. It seems like a most people still hold out hope that things will go back to normal. But the longer I’m here, the more I suspect that it might not be the case.
I told her what it was like growing up in the United States, meeting Oki. We met in college, about a month before I graduated. She was in the US on a student visa, working her way through a degree in education, and had a few years left. I moved away after I graduated, but we kept in touch and over a couple years became close. When she moved back to England, I was devastated. A year later, I was over in Scotland working on a project, stopped by to visit, and that was it. I moved across the pond a few months later.
I looked away toward the ocean, my eyes tearing up. She sensed how I was feeling because she put a hand on my back. I broke down crying, in the same fashion Halla had a few hours earlier. I choked out a laugh and told her about Halla. We both agreed that we should talk to each other more, so we don’t go insane. I stood up, took a deep breath and turned around to give her a hand. She said that she was going to stay here a bit longer, but that we should meet up in a few days. We said our goodbyes and I took off back toward the house. I felt happy. It had been so long since I’d had a normal conversation where I didn’t have to think about what the other person was saying. It was relaxing. Pleasant.
I felt guilty. It crept over me like earlier at the beach. I’m married. I have a child. I repeated those words over and over in my head until I got back to the house. I dropped the toothpaste, mutton, and candles on the table and went up to my room. I sat on the bed ruminating about Anna. It wasn’t a physical thing, at least not in the sense of being attracted to her. My mind returned to sitting on the bluff. Human touch is important. I hadn’t realized how much I needed it until I found myself crying in front of her. I don’t know. I could be lying to myself again. It seems like a habit of mine.
What if things never go back to the way they used to be?