Alice and Robert made their way to the small beach near their apartment each afternoon. A summer surrounded by the same cluster of families, they had created private nicknames for the regulars there – Red Cap, Red Cap’s Husband, Chessman, and Silverback – but greater intimacy had not yet been theirs to savour. Although they were constantly learning words and expressions, the language barrier was still too high, their presence still too new. Foreigners did not come to live in this town and Alice had no idea how to relieve the locals of their circumspection. Simple greetings had thus far proven ineffective, but she hoped time would eventually bring them closer.
‘Are you coming for a swim?’ Robert asked her.
‘I’m too comfortable here. You’ll have to go without me this once.’
She watched him zig zag gingerly between the resting grandparents and restless children. Inch by inch, pebble by pebble until the lake was his again.
Robert swam out a hundred metres to where a number of small boats lay anchored. He hauled himself aboard one of them and Alice found herself envying his view of the ruins on the hill behind her. She wondered if she shouldn’t swim out to him, but getting to her feet, she sensed a change in the atmosphere. Something was happening. A stillness had fallen over the beach – it was as if they were at the theatre and the curtains had just parted. Frisbees and balls, so long the objects of fascination, were now allowed to simply roll away. A child ran up to Silverback and excitedly muttered words to him, one of which Alice understood – Irishman.
She looked out towards Robert. He was readying himself to dive from the boat and the beach held its breath. He hit the water a split second before the loud clap of his belly flop reached them. Infectious laughter met this punchline and Alice wiped away her tears of amusement a little guiltily. But they had seen her – she knew their secret now and Chessman approached her pleadingly with a finger over his lips, merriment in his eyes, begging her to keep it to herself.
‘Of course,’ she answered, ‘of course.’
The next afternoon, Alice and Robert swam out to the boats together. Leaving the water a little later, ears still echoing from the thunder of the latest impact, a young girl winked at Alice and offered delighted gestures of thanks. They could trust her now, for they had shared laughter. Ice broken, barriers unexpectedly surmountable now, it seemed the beach was beginning to open its arms in welcome.
Kevin Dardis is an Irish storyteller and musician based in Germany. Most of Kevin’s storytelling is still done orally. His stage shows – in German – relate in music and words his adventures, trials and tribulations in Northern Bavaria.