And while Romeo wooed Juliet with words of love, just like Don Julián had wooed my sister in my father’s castle, I found myself wondering whether Rosa had already married her king. But then I remembered Tío saying it would take at least a year to get my father and Don Julián to come to a final agreement that would settle their dispute once and for all, if indeed they were able to reach a truce.
Unlike my sister and her lover, Romeo and Juliet were married the next day. Three days later, they were dead. And although I knew they were only actors reading lines someone else had written, I almost believed their doomed love and cried for them.
Tío joined us backstage after the play. He had brought flowers for Kelsey, as is the custom in his world. And after Kelsey disappeared into the crowd, he turned to me.
“I’m proud of you, too,” he said to me. “You passed all your classes. Including mine. This is for you.”
He handed me a small box with a red bow, just like the ones he used to give me when I was a child. Inside the box, I found a watch. A magical watch with a golden moon. The moon,Tío explained, would move in a circle following the phases of the real one.
Tío put it on my wrist. “Wear it always,” he said. “So you don’t forget that being here is a gift.”
Dan had planned a party at his house for the cast after the play, and as usual, I joined them.
Many people came to me throughout the evening. They all praised the realism of the fighting scenes and congratulated me for my contribution. But John ignored me. I had long suspected his coming to the rehearsals had more to do with seeing Lindsay than with a real interest in improving his fencing skills. But I had dismissed his infatuation as a passing fancy related to Lindsay’s romantic role in the play. After all, as I had also noticed, John was not the only one sighing after her, and Lindsay already had a boyfriend.
Still, that night it seemed to me that Lindsay was gladly enjoying John’s attention. Tired of pretending I did not care, I left the party early and went back to my dorm.
The next morning, Kelsey came into my room and invited me to spend a couple of days at her father’s house by the ocean. I did not want to go at first, as I knew Tío would not be there—he had told me he would be attending a conference in Los Angeles. But Kelsey, as usual, knew how to convince me.
“Come on,Andrea. It’s the only day Richard has free. And,” she added with a sly smile, “I’ve already invited John.”
Quickly averting my eyes, I busied myself picking up the clothes I had dropped on the floor the previous night. “So?”
Kelsey laughed. “So you’ll come, right cousin?” And before I could react, she added, “I’ll be back at two.” The door closed behind her.
I dropped my clothes again, and sitting back against my bed, I tried in vain to slow down my beating heart. I had decided the previous night to forget about John. But now my resolution felt shaky. Surely John’s infatuation with Lindsay would be over as soon as he realized she was not really Juliet. Maybe a couple of days with me by the ocean was all he needed to see me in another light, a more flattering one.
Of course I knew that my feelings for John were forbidden—John was not from my world—but knowing didn’t make me any wiser, and when Kelsey came to pick me up, I was ready.
It was a glorious day. We played volleyball on the beach and hide-and-seek behind the dunes. Then, tired of chasing the waves, we built a fire on the sand and cooked hot dogs and marshmallows, which we ate sitting on a dead tree washed ashore by the tides—maybe the same trunk I had used to hide from them so long ago, the evening I had appeared in their world.
We were singing at the top of our voices, silly songs I found extremely funny, when out of nowhere, the sky opened up and began to pour as if a gigantic faucet had opened above us.
In my haste to get up, I tripped and fell. By the time John helped me to my feet, Kelsey and Richard were out of sight. As the rain wrapped itself around us like a curtain, my uncle’s house, lost in the dunes, seemed impossibly far away. Suddenly lightning broke the sky and illuminated the arch, dark and distorted, on its eternal watch over the beach.
“Wait!” I called to John. “We can stay under the arch until the rain stops.” But the roar of thunder covered my words. Reaching forward, I grabbed his arm, signaling toward the broken rock. John nodded and ran toward it.
I rushed after him, while the storm, raging now in all its fury, threw angry gusts of rain at us. We had barely reached the cave when another clap of thunder shook the arch. Startled, I lost my balance and fell. Just as I hit the sand, I noticed the change, a subtle change as if millions of ants were running over my skin—as if the consistency of the air was slightly off. Then I felt cold water running over my body and a salty taste in my mouth. The tide was in.
I jumped to my feet, refusing to believe my senses. But when I glanced through the entrance of the arch, I couldn’t deny it any longer. It was not only that the rain had stopped and the clouds were gone. The light was different, too. It was the unmistakable yellow light of Athos the golden moon. With a painful sense of loss I had to admit to myself, I had unwillingly returned to my world.
Before I had time to dwell on my disappointment, an immense wave rolled over me and sent me breathless against the rocks. As the water receded to collect its force and strike again, I saw John farther to my right, lying like a heap of soaked clothing on the sand.
11
Don Juan
“John! John! Are you all right?” I called at the top of my voice. But the thundering noise of the waves breaking against the rocks drowned my words.
I plunged forward, wading against the receding water, while in front of me, the shapeless form moved. Again I screamed to him, and forcing my legs to move still faster, I plodded ahead. Slowly John rose to his knees. By the time I reached him, he was already up.
“What happened?” he asked, staring at his drenched clothes in disbelief.
“Let’s go, John. The tide is rising. The water will soon close the doorway. We have to hurry.”
John did not move. “What are you talking about? The tide was low two minutes ago. How could it . . .” As his eyes wandered around the walls of the arch, his voice trailed off. A look of utter shock on his clean-shaven face, he stared back at me. “Unless . . . unless I‘ve been unconscious for a while?”
I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. This was not the time to explain. “That’s right, you were. Now come quick. We have to get out.”
I grabbed his arm and pulled at him. But John stalled. “Wait,” he said, pointing over my shoulder. I knew—even before I turned and saw the wave, an immense wave closing upon us with the roar of a wounded bear—I knew it was too late, that the strength of the water would pull us under and I would drown, because although I had lived by the ocean all my life, the truth was, I could not swim.
I took a deep breath and, with my legs firmly set on the ground, braced myself for the impact. The crest broke against my chest with the force of a hundred horses, and losing my balance, I stumbled back. Just as I fell, I felt John’s arms around my body holding me up. Coughing and gulping water, I clung to him while the wave wasted itself against the rocks.
John put me down as the surf withdrew and, pulling at my arm, headed outside. It was the impulse of the following wave that finally pushed us onto the cliffs surrounding the cove, the Cove of the Dead. Gasping for air, I collapsed on the rocks.
For a while John was quiet, which suited me fine; I needed time to think about how to explain to him what had happened. I had sworn to my uncle not to tell anyone about my world. But what else could I say? Just my luck the door had opened at the wrong time.
Despondent, I dropped my head into my hands, and as I did, my eyes rested on the watch my uncle had given me the previous evening. Perfectly still on the blue dial, the golden circle of a full moon was staring at me in silent warning.