The beach was not very far away. When they arrived, Pacifica told the cab-driver to come back in two hours.
The shore was strewn with rocks; this was a disappointment to Mrs. Copperfield. Although the wind was not very strong, she noticed that the top branches of the palm trees were shaking.
Pacifica took her clothes off and immediately walked into the water. She stood for a time with her legs wide apart, the water scarcely reaching to her shins, while Mrs. Copperfield sat on a rock trying to decide whether or not to remove her own clothes. There was a sudden splash and Pacifica started to swim. She swam first on her back and then on her stomach, and Mrs. Copperfield was certain that she could hear her singing. When at last Pacifica grew tired of splashing about in the water, she stood up and walked towards the beach. She took tremendous strides and her pubic hair hung between her legs sopping wet. Mrs. Copperfield looked a little embarrassed, but Pacifica plopped down beside her and asked her why she did not come in the water.
“I can’t swim,” said Mrs. Copperfield.
Pacifica looked up at the sky. She could see now that it was not going to be a completely fair day.
“Why do you sit on that terrible rock?” said Pacifica. “Come, take your clothes off and we go in the water. I will teach you to swim.”
“I was never able to learn.”
“I will teach you. If you cannot learn I will let you sink. No, this is only a joke. Don’t take it serious.”
Mrs. Copperfield undressed. She was very white and thin, and her spine was visible all the way along her back. Pacifica looked at her body without saying a word.
“I know I have an awful figure,” said Mrs. Copperfield.
Pacifica did not answer. “Come,” she said, getting up and putting her arm around Mrs. Copperfield’s waist.
They stood with the water up to their thighs, facing the beach and the palm trees. The trees appeared to be moving behind a mist. The beach was colorless. Behind them the sky was growing lighter very rapidly, but the sea was still almost black. Mrs. Copperfield noticed a red fever sore on Pacifica’s lip. Water was dripping from her hair onto her shoulders.
She turned away from the beach and pulled Mrs. Copper-field farther out into the water.
Mrs. Copperfield held onto Pacifica’s hand very hard. Soon the water was up to her chin.
“Now lie on your back. I will hold you under your head,” said Pacifica.
Mrs. Copperfield looked around wildly, but she obeyed, and floated on her back with only the support of Pacifica’s open hand under her head to keep her from sinking. She could see her own narrow feet floating on top of the water. Pacifica started to swim, dragging Mrs. Copperfield along with her. As she had only the use of one arm, her task was an arduous one and she was soon breathing like a bull. The touch of her hand underneath the head of Mrs. Copperfield was very light — in fact, so light that Mrs. Copperfield feared that she would be left alone from one minute to the next. She looked up. The sky was packed with gray clouds. She wanted to say something to Pacifica, but she did not dare to turn her head.
Pacifica swam a little farther inland. Suddenly she stood up and placed both her hands firmly in the small of Mrs. Copper-field’s back. Mrs. Copperfield felt happy and sick at once. She turned her face and in so doing she brushed Pacifica’s heavy stomach with her cheek. She held on hard to Pacifica’s thigh with the strength of years of sorrow and frustration in her hand.
“Don’t leave me,” she called out.
At this moment Mrs. Copperfield was strongly reminded of a dream that had recurred often during her life. She was being chased up a short hill by a dog. At the top of the hill there stood a few pine trees and a mannequin about eight feet high. She approached the mannequin and discovered her to be fashioned out of flesh, but without life. Her dress was of black velvet, and tapered to a very narrow width at the hem. Mrs. Copperfield wrapped one of the mannequin’s arms tightly around her own waist. She was startled by the thickness of the arm and very pleased. The mannequin’s other arm she bent upward from the elbow with her free hand. Then the mannequin began to sway backwards and forwards. Mrs. Copperfield clung all the more tightly to the mannequin and together they fell off the top of the hill and continued rolling for quite a distance until they landed on a little walk, where they remained locked in each other’s arms. Mrs. Copperfield loved this part of the dream best; and the fact that all the way down the hill the mannequin acted as a buffer between herself and the broken bottles and little stones over which they fell gave her particular satisfaction.
Pacifica had resurrected the emotional content of her dream for a moment, which Mrs. Copperfield thought was certainly the reason for her own peculiar elation.
“Now,” said Pacifica, “if you don’t mind I will take one more swim by myself.” But first she helped Mrs. Copperfield to her feet and led her back to the beach, where Mrs. Copperfield collapsed on the sand and hung her head like a wilted flower. She was trembling and exhausted as one is after a love experience. She looked up at Pacifica, who noticed that her eyes were more luminous and softer than she had ever seen them before.
“You should go in the water more,” said Pacifica; “you stay in the house too much.”
She ran back into the water and swam back and forth many times. The sea was now blue and much rougher than it had been earlier. Once during the course of her swimming Pacifica rested on a large flat rock which the outgoing tide had uncovered. She was directly in the line of the hazy sun’s pale rays. Mrs. Copperfield had a difficult time being able to see her at all and soon she fell asleep.
* * *
Upon arriving back at the hotel, Pacifica announced to Mrs. Copperfield that she was going to sleep like a dead person. “I hope I don’t wake up for ten days,” she said.
Mrs. Copperfield watched her stumble down the bright green corridor, yawning and tossing her head.
“Two weeks I’ll sleep,” she said again, and then she went into her room and shut the door behind her. In her own room Mrs. Copperfield decided that she had better call on Mr. Copperfield. She went downstairs and walked out into the street, which seemed to be moving as it had on the first day of her arrival. There were a few people already seated on their balconies who were looking down at her. A very thin girl, wearing a red silk dress which hung down to her ankles, was crossing the street towards her. She looked surprisingly young and fresh. When Mrs. Copperfield was nearer to her she decided that she was a Malayan. She was rather startled when the girl stopped directly in front of her and addressed her in perfect English.
“Where have you been that you got your hair all wet?” she said.
“I’ve been taking a swim with a friend of mine. We — we went early to the beach.” Mrs. Copperfield didn’t feel much like talking.
“What beach?” asked the girl.
“I don’t know,” said Mrs. Copperfield.
“Well, did you walk there or did you ride?”
“We rode.”
“There isn’t any beach really near enough to walk to, I guess,” said the girl.
“No, I guess there isn’t,” said Mrs. Copperfield, sighing and looking around her. The girl was walking along with her.
“Was the water cold?” asked the girl.
“Yes and no,” said Mrs. Copperfield.
“Did you swim in the water naked with your friend?”
“Yes.”
“Then there weren’t any people around, I suppose.”
“No, there wasn’t a soul there. Do you swim?” Mrs. Copper-field asked the girl.
“No,” she said, “I never go near the water.” The girl had a shrill voice. She had light hair and brows. She could easily have been partly English. Mrs. Copperfield decided not to ask her. She turned to the girl.