Mark and Deena
were on a camp with the school in the mountains. They had looked forward to
this vacation, although they knew, that there was some work to be done. They
were supposed to do a huge exercise about the weather in the mountains, the
culture of the population of the villages and the activity of the volcano in
the remote area of the landscape. In a way they enjoyed making this report,
because gaining new knowledge was always interesting. Especially Mark and Deena
liked that kind of work, because they always had a heavy discussion about the
issues they ran into.
Mark was very
interested in volcanoes, as he found them exciting because of the danger they
possessed.
So they enjoyed
the camp without knowing what was going on at home. If they had known, they
would have rushed home immediately, but they were so busy doing the report,
that they had forgotten, that Dolphia had been a little different the last two
days, and they had asked her, if she was ill, but she had answered, “Not that I
know of. But you never know.”
“But you haven’t
painted for three days.”
“No, I know. I’m
frustrated. The sun will not set when I paint.”
“So you think the
sun has changed?”
“Yeah, why not.
You never know with suns!”
“I think you’re
in love, Dolphia,” Deena said.
“Me? I don’t know
what it is.”
Mark laughed.
“Dolphia, it has something to do with men.”
“You don’t say.
Men are terrible. They have beards and everything.”
“But they make
money, which you don’t. You don’t sell any of your paintings at all.”
“I don’t paint
for money, but for the sake of painting and for the sake of sunsets.”
“So you are not
in love?”
“Sure – in my
paintings.”
“That’s not love,
it’s passion,” Deena laughed.
“I won’t deal
with love in other people.”
“What about us?”
“Oh, my beloved
pigeons. Of course I love you. But I don’t marry you!”
“Who talks about
marriage, Dolphia. You do! You have a boy friend.”
Dolphia blushed
and said, “No way. I don’t have time for marriages. Besides that they are very
troublesome and very expensive.”
So Mark and Deena
had the suspicion, that something was going on with Dolphia. But they
concentrated on their report on volcanoes, almost forgetting Dolphia.
They came home a
week later, and looked forward to visiting Dolphia. So the next morning they took a quick breakfast and went to
Dolphia’s house.
“I’m sure
something has happened during this week,” Deena said.
“She has started
painting sunrises instead of sunsets.”
“More than that.
I can feel it.”
And right Deena
was. As soon as they saw Dolphia’s house, they knew that something fabulous had
happened. There were three flag staffs in her garden with different flags, and
the whole house was covered with flowers. They heard Dolphia sing inside, but
wondered why there was a white Mercedes parked in front of her garden.
“My goodness,”
Mark said. “Has she sold all her paintings?”
“Seems so.”
They went up the
stairs, and suddenly they could hear a man’s voice from inside. Hesitatingly
they knocked the door, and Dolphia opened, saying, “Oh my starlings, do come
in!”
She was dressed
in her finest clothes, and had a white cigar in her hand.
“Dolphia, is
everything OK?”
“Couldn’t be
better. I’m so happy. Yes, my sparrows, I am a married woman!”
Deena laughed.
“What did you say? You were in love, before we left!”
“What has love to
do with marriage,” Dolphia asked.
“A whole lot, I
guess,” Mark said.
“What do you know
about that, my teapot?”
“I have been in
love several times.”
“Yes, “ Dolphia
said. “But you have never been married as far as I know.”
“No, that’s
something for adults. Children don’t marry.”
“Why not? It
makes you so happy. But do come in!”
They stepped into
her apartment – and gazed. The living room was now a bedroom with a bed in gold
and china and with an eiderdown so expensive, that they could only gaze with
open eyes. In the corner of the room there was a chair of ivory, and a
gentleman was sitting there, reading. His hair was completely white, so he must
be at least seventy.
“This is my
lovely husband,” Dolphia said. “Isn’t he handsome?”
“Well, that
depends,” Deena whispered, and Mark was close to bursting by laughter.
“This is Mr. Mac
Whitman, chairman of the lodge in this very town.”
“What?”
“Yes, I met him a
fortnight ago, and he bought the best painting I have ever painted. The best
sunset. The best colours and everything.”
The man got up
from his chair, saying. “I greet you. I’m sir Mac Whitman – and you are?”
“Eh, Mark and
Deena. Kids, you know.”
“Kids. Dolphia,
do you socialize with kids?”
Dolphia smiled
her warmest smile. “Oh sure – they are so marvellous. My best friends, in
fact.”
“I see.”
Mark and Deeena
looked around. Mr. Whitman’s room was so clean, that is was unbelievable. In
the door to the next room, in which Dolphia painted, there was a huge bed.
“Look at the
bed,” Deena whispered.
Mark looked and
was close to laughing. The bed was parted in two. At Mr. Whitman’s side there
was an eiderdown made of silk, but in the other half of the bed turning into
Dolphia’s room they saw hay.
“Well, “ said
Dolphia. “I sleep in the hay, while the sir sleeps in his wonderful eiderdown.
That’s the way he likes it, and I prefer hay. It feels more comfortable.”
They looked into
Dolphia’s room, and it was as usually messy and dirty, and there was paint and
brushes everywhere.
“We like your
room better,” Mark said. “It’s more you.”
“Don’t you insult
the sir. We cannot all be alike, and I prefer to sleep as I normally do.”
“But how ----, “
Mark whispered and felt Deena’s leg kick him. “But how come?”
Dolphia started
to weep. “I felt so lonely, so I married the sir.”
“Do you ever
speak together,” Deena asked.
“It happens now
and then. But my sir is very busy with his papers. I’m just so disappointed,
that the sir doesn’t like the hay. We need to have a board between us, so that
I don’t disturb Mr. Whitman with my dreams and the hay.”
“This must be a
dream,” Deena said. “Have you been drunk, Dolphia?”
“I don’t think
so. I feel as sober as ever. It’s a lovely feeling. And what makes my heart
warm, is the few moments when the sir takes a look at me painting. And now I
can paint sunsets again. Isn’t that lovely?”
“Dolphia, we’re
very busy, so we have to leave. We’ll come later in the evening.”
“I don’t think we
have time, my dolphins. The sir and I are going to dine.”
“But you don’t
have a table.”
“Well, we’ll sit
on the bed. It’ll work.”
“Then be careful
that sir Mac Whitman won’t get hay in his food,” Mark laughed. He could not
help it. They ran down the stairs, bursting by laughter.
How could a woman like Dolphia change so totally? Was her personality destroyed by this very exclusive man?
“I know one
thing,” Deena said, still laughing.
“What?”
“I’ll never ever
marry.”
The idea to this
story occurred by San Pablo del Lago in the Andean Mountains in Ecuador
(The author and Lucia Jarrin)