A SLIGHT SUMMER SHADE
“Ahhh, I want to go to a tropical island!” Goddess says as she throws herself onto the sofa.
“What’s this, all of a sudden?” I ask.
“There’s nothing sudden about it, Bell,” she grins back. “It’s been summer for ages, and the heat is unbearable!”
It’s a rare day off for the two of us, and we’re both spending a carefree day at home. Goddess speaks without taking her eyes off the book she’s reading.
It’s that time of the year when the nights are short and, just as Goddess says, warm as well. It’s not so bad down here in the basement of the abandoned church, but as soon as you step outside, the heat gets you. It’s been like this for several days now, and it seems like Goddess is finding it hard to handle.
“On days like this, I just want to move somewhere cooler or go all the way to a tropical island to enjoy the heat there,” she says.
That doesn’t sound very goddess-like to me. I give a nervous smile, and Goddess flips the page of her book. The illustrations inside depict just the kind of environment she’s talking about.
“Blue seas, blue skies, bright yellow beaches! Oh, I just want to run along the sands, playing tag with Bell!”
She sighs enviously at the sight displayed in bright colors on the page.
“Or at least sample some delicious tropical fruits…”
Goddess takes one last look at the coconut-laden page before flopping her head down on the sofa, refusing to move another muscle. She looks exhausted.
I gaze down at the book she was glancing through before staring at the ceiling for a while. Then, once I notice Goddess snoring, I silently exit our home.
I return about an hour later. Goddess looks up at me as I enter. “Huh?” she groans. It seems she’s only just woken up.
“Did you go out, Bell…?” she mutters, bleary-eyed. Then she notices the basket in my arms, and her eyes go wide. “Wait a minute, what did you buy?!”
The basket contains a large, striped, spherical object.
“They were selling them at the market,” I answer, sheepish. “It’s supposed to be a summer fruit called a watermelon. I’m not sure if it’s tropical or not, but…do you want to try one?”
In the blink of an eye, Goddess’s blank face lights up. “Yes, I do!” she says, beaming like the sun.
And so we leave the basement and sit in a corner of the abandoned church. We wash the fruit with cool water from the well and cut into its succulent flesh.
Beneath the setting sun, Goddess and I bite into the red fruit, both smiling.
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