Lonesome Sal

Sal sat hidden in such a position so as to see but not be seen, and from there he watched the gloaming shake through its death throes. The only sound to be heard came from a small and simple sailing dinghy, beating against the dock in time with the waves, serenading the sun to sleep. Sal felt achey inside, and he traced the green vessel from afar with his fingertips, his heart feeling heavy, then light, and then heavy once more. The pitter patter of soft footfalls interrupted his reverie, as they made quite the contrast with the bumping boat. Sal jerked his chin defiantly upward, in order to explain his presence. He needn't have bothered, for once his eyes adjusted, he saw a lithe and slight figure padding its way down the dock. It stopped and swayed gracefully at the end, peering from left to right and back again, searching for nothing in particular save solitude. She placed a little foot on the vessel, in order to know for certain that it was neither pulp nor paper. A moment passed and she seemed satisfied. She disappeared down into the middle without a sound. 

Sal's spine went rigid as an idea hurtled through it.  She wouldn't like it much, but Sal was selfish. His hand acted of its own accord; right into the pocket and out with the knife. Wind up and pitch, and straight toward the line. It snapped, and a thud echoed from within the depths of the boat - the movement of a shocked and startled creature.  Two wide eyes peered over the top, then snapped shut. Opening once more, there was no news. As the boat began to drift away, a whimper wafted its way back to the dock, selfishly wishing to remain. It was a sacred chime, and suddenly a gallant man stood where a lonesome one sat. Sal sprinted down the dock, ignored the fluttering rope, and launched into a dive. He tumbled into the dinghy, and glaring at the young lady through a mess of hair, chastised her for her foolishness. She began to cry in earnest. He watched a tear flash down a rose petal, illuminated by one last persistent endeavor from the Sun. She hiccuped to a stop, disconcerted by Sal's laughter. 

"You may as well stop that. I'm only a chiffonier, I can't get us back. You left the oars on the dock."

The damsel put her head in her hands. Her voice came out in a muffle.

"And what, pray tell, is a chiffonier?" 

"Well, that's a fancy way to say that I'm a ragpicker. I can't get you home, and I'm fine with dying." Sal stretched his arms behind his head and reclined against the bow. 

"But I'm not!" She cried, lowering her hands. "I've only just been married!"

"Oh really?" Sal feigned. "To whom?"

"No one you would know," she replied, eyes lingering on his frayed sleeves with disdain, "Someone secure." 

"Ahh," Sal sighed. "Well it's a damn shame then. I've never heard of a secure widower. They're always sad and morose and all that. At least until they remarry of course."

"This is a lake," she announced. "We'll just have to wait it out until we've hit the other side. Then someone - someone can take me back home."

Sal eyed her pitilessly. "This is a gulf," he laughed easily, "which means we're out to open sea. Don't you even know where you are?"

The young bride looked sheepish, then stony. "I told you, I've just been married. I came up from Tarrytown about a week ago. I'd never left New York before…" her voiced trailed off and she looked up toward the ceiling. By this time the night had been fully embraced, and a crushed velvet cloak studded with little yellow gems was shining in her eyes. Sal eyed her with interest for a moment during her distraction. Here was a woman who was scared, excited, nervous. Calm and worried. Sal noted each emotion as it came. 

"And you came all the way here?" He scoffed, "To get married? What a waste."

Ignoring Sal's jibe, she interjected,  "And I've just decided that I don't believe you." 

"Well I," Sal said, "Don't believe you." 

And then for a while they were quiet. 

The ebb and flow of the sweltering sea was indeed dragging the little dinghy further and farther as the minutes ticked by. There was black curtain on all sides, and Sal was at ease. He had acquired a piece of mind he did not think he could ever attain again. He hoped he would die here after all, silent and still, aside a delicate and scared little girl. Then she could toss his body aside, and he could swell into the sea while she floated on. The moon slid out from behind a cloud as he grinned, to which the young lady queried: "What could you have to be so happy about?"

"There she is." Sal murmured to the moon. He didn't have to look at the bride's face to know it was quizzical. But before she could speak Sal blurted out, "Why do you think you are here?"

"What?"

"You heard. How did you get here?"

"Well, I suppose - I suppose I don't quite know. One foot in front of the other." She seemed unsure.

"Indeed," Sal muttered, "One foot in front of the other." He raised his voice as he addressed her. "Will anyone remember you? Will there be shrines in your honor once you're gone?"

She glared. "Greatness is wonderful when it is considered appreciable. But people habitually fall in and out of love with their idols. Personally I'd prefer to stay out of it, wouldn't you?"

"Oh." was all Sal said. Then,  "Do you think I'm handsome?"

The bride burst into laughter. "Intolerable."

Sal was stung. "It's alright to be vain before you die."

"Mmm." Was her reply. 

After some reflection, Sal asked, "Why isn't everybody equal?"

"You'll have to clarify."

Sal pondered for a minute, then said, "Why don't we all get the same chance? I can tell you've never done anything for yourself. Why do you get to enjoy leisure, beauty, an able mind, and opportunity? Why aren't you required to stand on your own legs?"

The girl pursed her lips, as though she did not deign to answer. After a moment of chewing on her cheeks, she drew a deep breath into her chest and blew it out in a shrill whistle. 

"Well?" Sal demanded, cuffing his shoe to shake it of debris. 

And Margaret said:

"Why does the one girl have shinier hair than the other? Why does the boy down the street eat steak when all you have is fish? Why do your shoes always seem to wear out before the others? Why me and why not me? What boring and childish sentiments. That's just the way it is, and you're a wretch if you can't conceive that. You have two legs, so walk on them and think not of it. You're insufferable, and a miracle, and what a shame you should be both. Think not of what you ought to have, or what others have over you. Think solely about yourself, and what you're made of, then gasp. The only thing you deserve is one moment to marvel at yourself. And if you waste that moment, then I pity you, and you deserve nothing." She concluded her speech by dipping her hand over the side of the dinghy and into the ebony, and was quite serious about snapping her fingers in Sal's face, spritzing him with water. 

"Are you cold?" Sal asked, noting how the moonlight made her dress look like vellum. 

"No." And she closed her eyes.

While Margaret slept, lonesome Sal had never felt so far away from any person. But he lifted his hands in front of his face, and admired them. He ran them over his forearms, flexed and felt his muscles ripple under his own ten fingers. He traced his nose, and cupped his elbows. He took deep breaths in to see how large his lungs could be. He checked his pulse, and felt the silkiness of the hair on his head. He stretched out his legs and nearly capsized the boat to check his reflection. He added and subtracted sums in his head, he remembered something from when he was very small, and then he hummed a waltz out loud. He closed his eyes and conjured up a picture of an elephant, of fireworks, of his hometown from the top of a hill. He recalled the smell of baking bread, and he laughed. And this would get tiresome, as all things inevitably did, but all you had to do was to remember! And then you could wonder once more. 

The sky began to lighten by the slightest shade of blue, and the olive vessel slid onto verdant land. The girls' eyes opened as round as coins, and flashed toward Sal, who conceded, "I guess you were right after all. This appears to be a lake." She smiled, and pressed his hand firmly with two of her own.