THE
SANDMAN
Artwork by Adela Serban
The lights of the car were
piercing the night, lighting the tight curves of the road. He had slowly got out
of the house, in order for her not to feel him. There was nothing he could
possibly tell her. How could he have explained something that not even he
understood? He remembered the previous afternoon when he wanted to take her to
that deserted beach where he had been a long time ago, in another season of his
life. They had approached close to the sea, but he stopped at the edge of the
forest, not wanting to go even a step farther when he saw the sand statues
spread over the whole beach.
“I was wrong. It wasn’t here.
Let’s go” he had said.
“But,
my love, this place is wonderful… it doesn’t matter if it is not the one you
were thinking about… let’s stay here…”
“I
said lets’ go!” he yelled like crazy. “Forgive me”, he added
softly, after. “But please let’s go somewhere else. It would be a pity to
damage the statues…”
“What
statues?” she had asked opening wide amazed eyes.
He
had not answered anything. She probably thought he was crazy. And yet, he
wasn’t. The statues were there. He had seen them with his own eyes and they
were there all over the beach.
Now,
the sea appeared to him as soon as he came out of the little forest. The ocean
was inky and dark, the moon dancing over the rolling waves. The sand statues,
caressed by the moonlight, littered the beach. There appeared to be more of them
than there had been in the afternoon.
He
approached them as if he was bewitched by their quiet beauty. He sat down on the
beach, among them, understanding now that she could not see them, and maybe
others couldn’t either. They were invisible to all eyes except his. He felt as
if he was the master of a magic power, of an incredible secret.
“Good
evening young man! Welcome to the magic beach….” smiled the old
fisherman casting his nets under the moonlight. “But you should know that
only in the full moon light do wishes come true”
“Wishes?
The magic beach?” he asked looking at the sand statues.
“Yes…
this is what they say… that this beach is magic. I will tell you…” he
said, sitting down next to him. “Once upon a time a man and a woman were in
love with each other. And here is where they used to come in order to be alone
with the sea and the sky and each other. There was no greater love and happiness
than theirs. But one day he ran away from her. However she was still in love
with him and she cried and cried for weeks over him…”
“And
what has this story of magic?” he interrupted with an irritated voice. “A
love story like so many others… so many people fall in love and then split up.
And all lovers have a place which is ‘theirs’, their own special place full
of memories that only they understand.“
“What
you say about ordinary mortal lovers is true. But what the legend says, and that
man didn’t know, is that she wasn’t mortal. She was a Goddess, the very Love
herself. And by abandoning her and thus driving her away, he didn’t hurt only
himself, but all people on earth because from that time on, love became sad and
full of tears.”
“Only
because a man deserted her? But there are plenty of other men! And if she really
was the very Love and had chosen a mere mortal, then she could choose another
one and the world would be happy again.” His irritation with the fisherman
was surfacing.
“Yes
but see… especially because she wasn’t an ordinary woman, but Love… She
had loved that man absolutely. And he was cruel when he ran away. He rejected
her love and spoke harshly with stinging, hurtful words. He forbade her to talk
to him again and if she ever was to meet him by accident, he told her to pass by
him and to pretend to not recognize him. Since then no other love story like
this could exist and also since then all love stories are sad and end up in
separation and tears just as Love’s love story did. And as long as Love will
cry, it couldn't be otherwise. She has been crying since that time and, because
of sadness and loneliness, her soul was crushed and turned into sand. They say
that she comes here every night and builds a statue of the one she loved who is
now forever gone. She still loves him and always will.”
“They
say…?” he asked looking thrilled at the statues.
“Yes,
they say… because it’s obvious that no one has ever seen the statues Love
fashions from the sand of her soul. It’s just a legend” smiled the
fisherman. “They say that only one man could ever see them: the one who
drove Love away from his life, bringing the sadness over all love stories. Only
he can remove the curse,” said the old fisherman standing up and dusting
the sand from his worn out trousers. “Now I must go. Good night.”
The
next full moon night, there were so many statues on the beach that they seemed
to be a whole army of sandmen, standing guard over the ocean waves.
“You
have finally come to make a wish come true” smiled
the old fisherman.
“No.
I mean yes. I want to know the end of the story. What else has happened to
her?”
“She
could never sleep again since then. Her eyes remained always open and always
crying. At least this place should have remained sacred to his soul, as a temple
of her eternal memory. He defiled that rememberance by bringing other women
here. Again and again, they say, her soul shatters from the sadness and pain.
And from the sands of her shattered soul, she builds statues of him, on this
beach where she was once happy and where she waits for him to return to her.
Only he, and only if he came back, could remove the curse. He should still love
her and ask for her forgiveness. He should love that sand created from her
shattered soul which has mixed with her endless love. He should become sand
himself, just like the statues of him that she builds, thus taking away the
burden from her soul so that she could sleep again. Then people’s slumber
would be restful again and sadness would begin to disappear. Peace would come to
lovers again and their lives will be happy once more.
Hey, where are you, young man? Great guy you are… to make me tell you
stories and then leave without a word…”
He
opened slowly the bedroom door, trying not to wake her up. But she wasn’t
sleeping. Tears were flowing from her big, sad eyes, fixing the place left empty
by the one that had gone away from her in the middle of the night. She hadn’t
heard the door, neither had she noticed
him coming closer to her.
He
reached out his hand to caress her, to feel the softness of her hair, but sand
fell through his fingers. Sleepy sand to heal the sleepless eyes.
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