A big thank you to all the new people reading my posts.
I have been writing a fictional story about Teddy, a young girl who is lost and trying to find solace.
In the morning, she received the news a shark had eaten her mother.
From afar, I saw Juan Carlos sitting on the terrace of the Fruit Bar/Internet Café. He wore a shiny silver vest like an alien; his hair was combed back and stood like a halo around his head. I didn't want to speak to him until I had spoken to Aunt Lili, but I was still hesitant about the time to call her; she was either drunk or in bed. After all, it was seven hours later in the Netherlands. I looked at the brass clock on the square with the fountain and the basketball court. It was half past two and half past eight in the Netherlands, so it was not late and a clever idea to call now. I passed the terrace, waved to Juan Carlos, and drove to the post office. Someone was in one phone booth, but the other one was free.
"A call to the Netherlands, please," I said to the beautiful girl behind the counter. I gave her Aunt Lili's number and went to the phone booth. It smelled like stale smoke. I put the full ashtray outside the door and lugged a chair inside. The phone rang, and I picked it up. It rang a few times, and my dear Aunt Lili answered: 'Demmeling.'
"Aunt Lili, this is Teddy. You're talking to Teddy; I'm in Mexico. I received your message this morning about Mother," my voice faltered. I wanted to say, "What happened," but nothing came.
Aunt Lili swallowed. I heard it. She swallowed a lump, or was it a sip of sherry? I felt a severe headache coming on that set the back of my head on fire. I wanted to hang up, but I had to go through this. I waited and heard the deafening silence between two countries, between two oceans, between two people.
Aunt Lili didn't say anything.
"I've seen the video," I said, "before they took it down, where exactly was Mother?"
"It was a great blue shark," said Aunt Lili, "your mother loved those creatures so much, and now they have eaten her," she began to cry hysterically. My headache became almost unbearable, and I started roaring along. We both whined, screaming. The beautiful girl behind the counter looked at me pityingly and disappeared; a moment later, she tapped on the glass and waved a packet of tissues that I took from her, into which I blew my nose loudly. Aunt Lili also calmed down. I heard the clinking of glasses, and she poured herself another drop.
"She was in Chile," her voice was muffled, her tongue doubled. "Somewhere on an island in a national park off the coast, it's on the endangered species list, and your mother was so concerned about it."
And what about me? I wanted to ask if she was no longer concerned about me. Was the prevention of the extinction of the great blue shark more important than the happiness or the security or faith in humanity for her youngest child, the child she had christened 'happy head,' whom she had called 'my blinker,'
Who did she say she loved so much? Did she love the Great Blue Shark more than me?
"Are you still there?" In Dutch it sounded like Beden je bejerder noh.
"Yes," I said, "did she love the Blue Shark more than her daughter?" Abruptly, I asked my mother's best friend, who, of course, would say no. There was silence for a moment. Then she said: 'No, no, of course not, she loved you the most, really, you know that don't you?'
No, I didn't know that; what did I know? That she had left me was one thing that was certain in these confusing times. A day had come when she had thought, now it's enough, I have to leave, I'm going away from Teddy, yes, I love her very much, she's the sun in my life, she's the sun in my existence, she's the sun of my universe, but I'm leaving, I have to leave her, or I won't stand it anymore, or I'll commit murder.
So I said, 'No, no, Aunt Lili, I didn't know that, I don't know, I still don't know, what am I supposed to think about her leaving and now she's dead.'
I felt Aunt Lili's impatience. Despite those thousands of kilometers, Aunt Lili was annoyed, and the worst thing was that I understood. She had lost her best friend, and I had lost my mother, but I hadn't spoken to my mother for years. Aunt Lili visited her every year.
'Aunt Lili, please send me where she was. I'm in Mexico right now and want to go there. I want to see that scaffolding she was standing on. If you don't remember it now, it doesn't matter, but send it to me, please send it in.'
I heard the crackling of paper.
'Here I have it; it's the Parque Nacional Chiloé, about two thousand kilometers south of Santiago.’
Stupidly enough, I didn't have a pen and paper with me to write down what Aunt Lili said. I gestured to the beautiful girl and made writing movements. She came running with paper and a pen. I repeated what I thought Aunt Lili said, and I wasn't far off—Chiloé and not Chloé. She spelled Chiloé for me.
'The Great Blue Shark Sanctuary in the Parque Nacional Chiloé, I am sure I can find that,' I said optimistically. "Dear Auntie, send me all the information you have, and I’ve got to go now?" I heard a murmur. Yes.
'Lots of strength and lots of love, dear aunt. I'll be back in the Netherlands soon.'
The connection was lost. Whether she had done it or not was not clear to me.
I paid the beautiful girl twenty-five Mexican dollars for the call.