Our last paradise (conclusion, and the end of the novel Tidal Lock)

As for anything else sooner or later, we reached the conclusion of our novel; the story of Giselle and Paul. I will miss them very much; my loyal companions for the last year. I hope that the story will please my readers. Perhaps, it is my only one among my stories where love dominates over cynicism. Definitely, it is, among all my stories, the one that was most accepted and praised by friends and readers. The ending is predictable and I hope not disappointing.

I added the opening paragraph of Tidal Lock with the beautiful translation in Mandarin by Yao Lu.

Here, is the complete list of previous chapters:

Tidal lock:

        a. The story of Giselle, Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3,

        b. The dark side of the sun, Part 1, Conclusion

        c. There is no such thing as everlasting love

        d. Back where we belong

        e. Catharsis, Part 1 , Conclusion

        f. The performance

       g. An unforgettable evening, Part 1, (A conversation with Catterina Coha about “The performance” and “An unforgettable evening“.), Part 2, Conclusion 

       h. Serendipity

       i. Echo’s call, Part 1 , Conclusion

    j. Our last paradise, Part 1 ,

Tidal Lock

When by chance two celestial bodies cross paths and the smaller one is drawn into the others’ orbit, an eternal bond is established and a marvel occurs: in tidal attraction, both slow their spin to face each other. The gradual process first locks the rotational period of the smaller one to match its orbital pace. Then imperceptibly, the dominant abides to the same fate. It is such a common occurrence in the universe that one pays almost no attention to it. This is how our Moon pointed her seductive face to Earth for billions of years past. And the Earth will have no choice but to reciprocate in the billions to come …unless a premature death will part them beforehand, when the Sun, as a giant red explosion, will engulf both in a mass suicide. But till then, the fatal attraction will persevere.

…And so is the fate of true love.

当两个天体偶然地穿过路径并且较小的天体被吸引到其他轨道时，一种奇迹般的永恒联系建立了。在潮汐引力中，两者为了对视都减慢了彼此的速度。这种渐进过程首先是一方为了匹配轨道速度将旋转周期固定在更小的水平，然后不知不觉中，占主导地位的那方也遵守相同的规则。在宇宙中这种情况很常见，尽管人们几乎不关注它。这是月亮在数十亿年前开始凝望地球的方式，而地球别无选择。除非过早的死亡将它们事先分开，比如太阳化为巨大的红色，开启一场大规模屠杀将所有吞没。但直到那时，致命的吸引力仍在持续。

……真爱的命运也是如此。

(Translation in Mandarin by Yao Lu)

Twilights at Pillar Point Harbor, El Granada – Photo by F. Marincola

…A few chapters later …the conclusion:

Our last paradise

The following decade was indeed their last paradise. Giselle and Paul were at each other’s side day and night, coveting the remaining bits of life, capturing each moment as if it was the last one. They walked along the beach at sunset, climbed the mountain trails that overlook the endlessness of the Pacific Ocean, strode end-to-end in Golden Gate Park, listened to the semi-professional bands, and visited the Rose Garden, where Giselle took pictures of every flower. They watched the Dragon Dance in China Town and ate dumplings for Chinese New Year. They observed children play and, from the distance, listened to the monkeys’ hoot at the San Francisco Zoo. They giggled at the penguins’ rocking steps, while the mischievous otters chased each other. They empathized with the snow leopard that, from the console of its cage, scanned the horizon searching for something that would never materialize. And they drove the vintage Ferrari to Sonoma, to Mendocino, and up further into Oregon’s redwood forests. And further up, and further down in an unending succession of unforgettable moments.

Wherever they went, they held hands because they were alone in a world where all ties, family, and friends, were no more. The two orphans were all that was left, the only survivors of an enchanted tale. In that solitude, they were reborn. In the darkness of oblivion their souls were attracted like moths to the light. They were twin flames that kept admirers at the outskirts of their seclusion to repel distractions that could spoil the intimacy. They never argued because respect was the foundation of their relationship, a perpetual benefit of the doubt that molded a life without regrets. And they yearned to believe that everlasting love exists in this world as a pledge to be carried to the ultimate journey.

***

But, as for all of us, Giselle was not meant to live forever. Her abdomen began to swell. A diagnosis of cancer was dealt, and the clock started to tick down.

Giselle accepted the news with grace. She reserved gratitude for a life that had offered all that she could ever want; most of all had given Paul, the Paul standing by her at the doctor’s office. But it was a fiend’s verdict for Paul. In front of Giselle, he acted confident, but inside life was hell. He could not accept that his younger self, his precious Giselle lived in death row, while he was still healthy and strong. He had always assumed that he would be the first to disappear. He had arranged for Giselle’s comfort without him. He dreamed of her revisiting the places of their life, remembering everything to keep the dream alive. He imagined her beautiful eyes searching for him at sunset, her melodious voice whispering to him over the ocean breeze. But he never thought of a life without Giselle.

***

Jerry, visited often during the chemotherapy cycles. When Giselle was in the hospital and Paul could not stay by her, Jerry would take him to Ebb Tide café, in Miramar. On one occasion, Jerry was recounting his older brother Mark’s anguish when their dad reached the finish line. Jerry was jittery more than usual; he was sweating emotions as if Giselle was his wife rather than Paul’s and he was expecting support rather than giving it. Just the same, that day was not the best in Paul’s new life, neither was the worst. It was just average. It would have been a horrible day according to anyone else’s standards. But he had adjusted to the burden of depression.

“Mark is a physician, the one upon whom my dad had always counted on. Dad always stood by him and trusted him more than anyone else. But on the last days of his life, Mark did nothing to save him. Dad’s death haunted him, although, from a medical perspective, he had made the right choice. Dad suffered an intestinal infarction as a complication of a surgical procedure. Nothing could have been done to help at that age, in those conditions. Yet, as we were standing by the ICU bed, powerless watching his last heartbeats, guilt swelled into my brother’s heart …but it was too late.

In a deeper sense, letting him go was the finest of all the decisions. Life is merciless. At an old age, each day maybe the last one, but even worse, it may be one of many crowding the waiting room of death. Senseless life can go on for years; one can age, get sick, become handicapped and things still go on and on. My father wanted to die when he could not be what he used to be. But life kept torturing him with nothing to hope for and only pain to fear.

One day, I hope not too soon, Giselle will be terminally ill, and you will have to make the most arduous choice. She is an angel, whom everyone loves. But then, it will be just you and her. She will be at your mercy and only you, the companion of her life, will share those treasured moments when, at the threshold of the eternal silence, each whisper from the departing will echo into the rest of the other’s life. In a few moments, your lives will be replayed. She will look at you for the last time with an inquisitive expression, like my dad did with us. She will hold tightly your hand. She will smile trying to express gratitude for the love received, pleading for a promise of a reunion in a world with no beginnings or ends.

Life is a continue struggle to translate what we are into what we do. But at the end of the journey, nothing can be done, and one can only witness impotent its natural course.”

And Paul replied:

“I am trying to spend time constructively, but a form of mental depression removes my thoughts from what I care, as if I am afraid of disturbing the beauty of memories by contaminating them with the current ugliness. We used to love the pilgrim soul in each of us, but now we can only admire the unspoken sorrows over our erratic faces. I live in the twilight or reality, questioning whether the present is an illusion, whether she is gone already. Yet I cannot let her go, because since we have been together, Giselle has been the blueprint of my life.”

***

After a few more cycles of chemotherapy and experimental treatments, Giselle gave up. Water filled her lungs and needed to be drained with increasing frequency.

That evening, she decided no more. Paul helped her upstairs to the bedroom, adjusted the nasal cannula and the oximeter. He watched her fall into an intermittent doze. He sat at her side admiring her beautiful hair that had regrown after the last cycle and of which she was still very proud. The breathing was elaborate. On occasions she opened her eyes and searched around questioning the whereabouts. When her gaze encountered Paul’s, she smiled, reached for his hand, and held it as tight as she could.

A while later, Giselle asked:

“Paul, I need my pain pill, please get it for me.”

“The doctor said that we should be cautious with pain pills if you have trouble breathing. Let’s go to the hospital. They can make you breath better first.”

“No Paul, we are not going to the hospital anymore. These are my last moments and I want to spend them alone with you. Please give me the pain pill.”

Paul rose, went to the bathroom, and fetched the pill and a glass of water.

When he returned, Giselle smiled. He tucked the pillow behind her to help her breath when Giselle said:

“Thank you!”

“…I mean, thank you for everything. For being the reliable companion of my life. Thank you for loving me. I could not have been more fortunate. I remember the day we met when you asked for my name. You were so handsome and charismatic. And your words, your words changed my life.”

Paul smiled:

“I remember that moment too. I forgot to breath when you turned your face and stared into my eyes. Without knowing, I fell in love with you right on the spot! My mere existence had been questionable till I met you; you gave meaning to my life. Thank you, Giselle, my better half. Thank you for every moment, for every smile, every word, every kind gesture. I also could not have been luckier. I am the lucky one!”

Then Paul lost control and, reclining over Giselle’s abdomen, sobbed.

“Shh, shh, …come on Paul.” Interrupted Giselle, caressing his curly hair:

“Don’t forget; as Turo said, real men aren’t supposed to cry even when they chop onions!”

***

A little later, Giselle woke up again and finding Paul’s eyes staring at her she pronounced her last words:

“Say goodbye to all our things for me.”

More time passed and Giselle slipped into a coma; her breathing became irregular alternating deep with shallow breaths. The oxygen saturation declined.

…Silently and peacefully, Giselle died.

***

Paul sat at her side for a while not knowing what to do then and for the rest of his life. He then rose, searched for the phone, and texted Jerry:

“It has happened. Please go ahead with the plan, please take care of everything.”

Then he went to the bathroom, looked into the mirror. It was ironic that he did not look that old after all. It was obvious that too many empty days without Giselle laid ahead, too many to bear. He wondered why he did not cry. He tried but no tears came out. The soul was numb as if he was made of marble.

Turo was right, he thought:

“Real men don’t cry even if they try.”

Instead, he opened Giselle’s medicine drawer and grabbed the bottle that contained the narcotics. It had just been refilled. He took it to the bedside. Then he went to the kitchen, found a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He brought them upstairs and sat them on the bedside table. He then hugged Giselle one more time, kissed her lips, closed her eyes, and laid at her side holding her hand. With the other hand he ferried to his mouth in turn a pill and a glassful of whiskey till he was about to lose consciousness. He then laid waiting to join Giselle in the ultimate journey.

But things were not as expected. Life did not fade into eternal darkness. Instead, Giselle and Paul were walking side by side, holding hands toward an overpowering light. It was as if the sun had levitated into a red giant ball that covered the visible sky and they could look into the glare with impudence. The light though was not from the sun; it was God smiling at them. In him, they saw the face of many. They saw, Turo and Naomi, and Uncle Borysko, and Yvanna, and Igor the fiddler, and Signora Maria and Professor Federico, and Lori, and Giovanni the Maestro, and Madame Ivanova and, of course, the sweet Lauretta and her parents. They were all smiling, while a voice emerged. It was a chorale of hundreds, thousands, millions of voices chanting:

“Welcome to the kingdom of everlasting love.”

THE END