Emma and Charles had come prepared to spend long hours of that Sunday on the beach with me. There was the breath of freedom in their presence, the way they were dancing to the rhythm of some song that Emma had picked up recently from her music lessons. Charles threw his hands up in the air like the child he had drawn in the sketchbook. This went on for some time until Charles found a mound of a sandcastle somebody had started making and left half the way, incomplete. He got busy building it up again in his own way.
Looking at Charles who was busy meticulously shaping the form of the new castle, Emma looked pensive. I asked her about her unexplained and abrupt exit of that day. She did not speak for some time but the pause did not last long. Without turning to look at me she said, "I cannot quite explain and you will not understand. It had to do with the loss we suffered over our father's death. My parents were deeply attached to each other. My mother who was outwardly a strong person was not all that strong really. She was dependent on my father in many ways. Financially we were secured but that was not the point. In spite of her brave effort to get on with life and with her devotion and duty as mother she had caved in and collapsed under the stress. When you mentioned you being from the armed forces I recalled all that we had gone through." She paused.
I did not ask her anything more. The Pacific ocean was deep and the wind had stopped. The yachts parked in the distance were softly swaying and the masts drew lines against the deep blue sky. Emma had taken the burden off her chest . Perhaps she needed to do it earlier but could not Sometimes someone who is relatively a stranger like me is the safest outlet to relieve such stressful moments.
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