Daisies

Cassandra is on holiday.

She has books.

She has the ocean.

She has silence.

Everything is exactly as she likes it.

This should already make you nervous.

 

I know who is about to arrive.

Cassandra doesn’t.

I have considered warning her.

Briefly.

Then I decided against it.

Some encounters are better

experienced without preparation.

 

This is very much one of them.

I will tell you one thing.

Cassandra is about to discover that

there are forces in this world

against which dignity offers

surprisingly little protection.

I expect she’ll cope.

Eventually.

 

Daisies

 

I heard the waves of the ocean coming

in and out.

A calming sound.

With my eyes closed, I lay on the beach

and listened to the water

folding over itself, again and again. I

was almost asleep.

It was perfect.

 

Absolutely quiet, except for the waves

and a few birds somewhere in the

distance.

My yearly vacation.

And, as often, I had planned to do

nothing.

Just some books, the water and me.

I smiled to myself.

 

Then I felt someone standing

in front of me.

I opened my eyes slowly and saw a

woman with a bright smile looking

down at me.

She was big.

I mean tall and big.

 

She wore a ridiculous pink sunhat,

what looked like a Hawaiian shirt stolen

from her husband, and very short

shorts in the most colourful

combination I had ever seen in my life.

Her sunglasses had the shape of

daisies, and somehow it looked as if

the daisies were watching me.

 

In one hand, she held a little dog.

One of those creatures I would not

even call a dog.

The dog wore the same hat.

And the same daisy sunglasses.

 

For a moment, I wondered whether I

was already dreaming.

A strange dream, for sure.

When she spoke, her voice was loud.

Really loud.

 

“Darling. While we were walking around,

I had to notice your extraordinary

cheekbones.

And don’t let me get started on the

jawline. Damn, it looks fabulous.”

 

She pointed at the dog.

“Hector thinks he is already

in love with you.”

I looked from her to the dog and back

to her.

My mouth might have been slightly

open.

 

Before I could answer, she continued.

A lot of words came very fast out of her

mouth.

“These cheekbones - I had them.”

She laughed loudly, and her whole

body vibrated.

“Oh, wait. No. Probably not ever.”

 

She looked at me as if this was a

perfectly normal thing

to say to a stranger on a beach.

“Anyway. What are you planning today,

sweetheart?

Oh, we need to have dinner. They have

the best stuff here. It will be so much

fun.”

 

Before I could politely decline, she

made a small gesture with her hand.

“Shh, shh. I see you later, sweetie.”

To my surprise, she tapped one of my

cheekbones.

“Absolutely gorgeous.”

 

Then she walked away in that

ridiculous hat, with the dog in the

matching hat.

“At seven!” I heard her voice calling

behind her.

I sat there, my mouth still open.

These people really exist, I thought.

 

In my head, I had already decided her

name was Janet.

She probably worked as a teacher.

Or not at all.

And she and Hector and probably her

husband were on beach vacation.

Oh yes, and Hector - where I was still

not entirely sure whether he was a dog

or something else.

 

“Please no,” I murmured.

I was already thinking about how to

escape that dinner.

Maybe early sleep.

Very early sleep.

 

In the afternoon, I went up to my room

and stayed there.

The only reliable way not to show up

for dinner.

Shortly before seven, there was a knock

on my door.

I instantly knew what it was.

She had found me.

 

After two seconds of weighing my

options, I opened the door.

This time, there was simply

no word for it.

A yellow summer dress covered in

enormous green frogs.

Matching frog sunglasses rested in her

blonde hair.

And yes.

Hector wore exactly the same.

 

Frogs, I thought.

Somehow, that irritated me more than

the fact that she knew my room

number.

“I knew you would try not to come. Don’t

worry, I’m here to pick you up.

Hector insisted.”

She smiled brightly and hugged me.

 

“Come on. I already ordered cocktails.”

Before I could answer, she grabbed my

hand and pulled me along with her.

I just let it happen.

Pretty sure there was no escape.

 

When we arrived at the table, I saw only

two plates.

No husband.

She sat down, ordered a separate chair

for Hector and, with several grapes

already in her mouth, said,

“Oh, Dicky isn’t here. Lots of work.

Night shifts.

Always sulking and brooding,

but I adore that man.”

 

She swallowed another grape.

“Bit thin sometimes. I always tell him he

needs to eat more.”

Then she popped another grape into

her mouth and raised her glass.

It was a red cocktail decorated with

flowers.

As colourful as she was.

I raised mine and took a sip.

Jesus.

It was probably the strongest cocktail

I had ever tasted.

The kind of drink that might eventually

make you blind.

She laughed.

“Good stuff. I told you.”

 

And without thinking, I started smiling.

The whole situation was so absurd, and

yet somehow funny, that I could not sit

there sulking and trying to keep my

composure.

She smiled back at me.

“Better, isn’t it? I tell Dicky from time to

time, a good strong drink makes you

see things totally differently.”

She laughed.

“Of course he disagrees.”

 

Hector tried to bark.

It sounded more like a small cat

whining.

I looked at him, irritated.

“He is still in his adjustment phase,” she

said with a smirk.

Then she kissed him.

“Doesn’t know what he wants to

become, that little rascal.”

 

With the brightest smile I had ever

seen, she looked at me.

“We will go dancing later. I love dancing.

It’s the best.

I once did a limbo competition.

Couldn’t walk for days afterwards.”

She paused.

“But it was worth it.”

Her eyes lit up again.

“So we go dancing. But first, food.”

 

I swallowed another sip from the drink.

“I don’t know. I am not really in a

dancing mood. Maybe just food.”

She laughed, and her whole body

vibrated again.

“Darling, you need a dance. Believe me.

Everything is better after a dance.”

Then she clapped her hands.

 

The waiters began bringing one plate

after another.

It was an enormous amount of food.

They even had to bring another table.

I still could not believe what was

happening.

There was no way we would eat

all of that.

 

Janet saw me looking at the plates and

laughed.

“Oh, some friends are coming later.

Don’t worry.

There is always enough food when

people arrive.”

She grabbed a plate and started to

eat.

 

I had never seen anyone eat that fast,

or that much.

But she enjoyed it. Every single bite.

There was no embarrassment in it,

no hesitation. She ate as if food had

been invented only for her.

“Eat, sweetie. It’s delicious.”

She moved a plate towards me.

Then another one towards Hector.

 

I looked around and noticed that

people at the other tables had started

watching us.

They were probably wondering who

these two women were.

One dressed as colourfully as possible.

The other - me - in a simple dress,

trying very hard to disappear without

actually leaving.

 

Janet noticed them too.

Instead of lowering her voice, she

waved enthusiastically.

A few people looked away. Others

waved back, slowly and carefully,

as if they were unsure whether she

meant them.

I stared at my plate and wondered

where I could hide.

 

She still had food in her mouth when

she spoke.

“Oh, I love it. Look, they are all so

friendly. That’s amazing.”

She petted Hector and took an

enormous sip from her cocktail.

Then she looked at me with that bright,

impossible smile.

 

“I think now it’s time for a dance.”

“No,” I said immediately.

She blinked.

“No?”

“No dance,” I clarified.

“Definitely no dance.”

She looked genuinely concerned for

half a second.

Then her face lit up again.

“Oh, darling. You need a dance.”

 

Before I could answer, she stood up

and walked straight towards a man

sitting at a nearby table.

I watched her talk to him. She leaned

forward, used both hands, laughed

loudly.

He laughed too. I could not hear a

single word.

Then they came back to our table.

 

Her smile was radiant.

“That’s Tom. He loves dancing. I

promised him a dance with you.”

She could have said, he is here to slap

you, and I would have had the same

reaction.

“What?” I said. “I don’t want to…”

Then I looked at Tom.

He had a friendly face. He looked

almost eager. Not dangerous, not

strange, just a little too willing to dance

with a woman he had met thirty

seconds ago.

 

And I did not want to cause a scene.

“One,” I grunted instead. “One dance.”

Before I could even blink, Janet had

ordered the waiters to make space and

put on music.

 

“Here?” I asked.

A little panic slipped into my voice.

I did not want to dance in front of all

these people.

Janet smiled and nodded as if there

could not possibly be a better place.

 

The music started.

Tom held out his hand.

I was sure he was either an old friend

of Janet’s or she had bought him solely

to make me do this.

 

But I was never a quitter.

So I took his hand and stood up.

Please do not let it be something slow

and romantic, I silently prayed.

And it was not.

It was salsa.

I hated salsa.

 

Tom immediately moved me around as

if I had agreed to this months ago.

He was a good dancer. Far too good.

I was mostly trying to follow his

movements without falling over

or accidentally elbowing him

in the face.

 

But the worst part was Janet.

She had started encouraging everyone

around us to clap.

At first, only a few people did.

Then more joined in.

My cheeks began to burn.

It was humiliating.

 

And probably the longest dance in

history.

At least, it felt that way to me.

The music became louder. The

clapping became louder.

Tom turned me once, then twice, and I

nearly missed a step.

But I did not.

 

And somewhere between trying not to

fall and trying not to look terrified, I

started laughing.

Just once at first.

Then properly.

When the music finally ended, Tom let

go of me and made a tiny bow.

To me. And to the audience.

Which made them cheer even more.

 

I tried to smile and made a small, not

very elegant curtsy.

They cheered again.

Probably they all had some of these

cocktails, I thought.

 

Tom moved back to his table after a

short thank you, as if that dance had

been a victory.

Immediately, a few people went over to

him, talking and laughing.

I sat back down and reached for my

cocktail.

Janet laughed.

 

“Amazing. You looked wonderful,

darling. Good footwork.”

Then she pushed the glass a little

closer to me.

“Now that you have danced, we can

start with more drinking.”

And with that, she was right.

I took a large sip.

There was no other way to get through

this evening.

At least, that was what I still thought.

 

I heard them before they arrived.

Laughing. Chatting. A child somewhere

was squealing with excitement.

Then the door opened and a crowd of

people came in.

For one second, I thought it might be a

large family.

Then I thought it might be a travel

group.

Then I decided it was probably both.

 

Janet rose from her chair and hugged

and kissed everyone.

And I mean everyone.

Little babies. Teenagers. Old ladies.

Men with sunburned shoulders.

Women carrying enormous bags.

One man who seemed to be holding

three different desserts at the same

time.

 

There was chatter, laughter and noise.

I hated noise.

Finally, they turned towards me.

“That’s Cassandra!” Janet called out.

“Enthusiastic dancer and great

cheekbones, as you can see.

You’ll love her.”

 

And then they came over.

Before I could move, people were

talking to me, hugging me, introducing

themselves, smiling. Someone put

another glass in my hand.

I took a sip without asking

what was in it.

 

I was standing in the middle of the

crowd.

Everyone had a plate in their hands,

everyone was talking and laughing,

and somehow I felt completely alone.

I rarely felt alone.

But here, I did.

 

They were all nice. They were trying

to include me.

They were not doing anything wrong.

And just for a second, I realised

it was me.

Old defences.

Stay away.

Keep your distance.

 

The more they tried to include me,

the more I wanted to get back to my

precious solitude.

I could have left.

I could have said I was tired.

Blamed the cocktail.

Blamed the salsa. Blamed Hector.

 

But it was my vacation. I would

probably never see any of these people

again.

So I breathed in.

Took another sip.

Then I turned to the woman beside me.

“Your hair looks lovely,” I said.

“I really like it.”

And I meant it.

Her face opened immediately.

“Oh my God, thank you. I nearly didn’t

wear it like this.”

 

And suddenly, we were talking.

Not about anything important. About

the heat. About sunburn.

About terrible holiday clothing choices.

About a restaurant somewhere further

down the beach that apparently had

excellent fish but very rude waiters.

 

From the corner of my eye, I saw Janet

watching me.

She smiled in her yellow dress with the

enormous green frogs.

I was starting to like the frogs.

 

Later, I caught myself listening to

someone tell a story and laughing

before I even realised I had understood

the joke.

I spoke to a woman who had travelled

there alone.

I listened to an older man explain, with

great seriousness, why no one should

ever order seafood on a Monday.

 

At some point, my heels started to hurt.

So I took them off and placed them

underneath a chair.

I did not even notice I had done it.

 

The music started again.

I looked up and saw Janet moving

towards the empty space in the middle

of the room.

She began to dance.

And I had to admit, it was quite a view.

 

She moved her feet to the beat, circled

around herself and took up the whole

space as if it had always belonged to

her.

The frogs on her dress seemed to

become green dots circling around her

while she moved.

People began to gather around her.

Then they began to dance too.

The crowd followed.

And this time, I followed with them.

 

I just danced.

No choreography.

No structure.

Bare feet.

Just the rhythm and my body

moving with it.

No one was watching closely enough

to judge me.

Or perhaps they were,

and I no longer cared.

 

Janet came over, more dancing than

walking, and kissed my cheek.

“Gorgeous, darling. Natural talent.”

She smiled brightly.

Before I could answer, she had already

danced towards someone else.

 

I do not know when that night ended.

I danced a lot.

And drank.

And laughed.

And felt alive.

And slept perfectly that night.

 

The next morning, I saw her at the

beach.

For a second, I wondered whether the

whole evening had been something the

cocktails had invented.

 

Then I saw the daisy sunglasses

in her hand.

For me.

I took them and put them on.

“Love them,” I said, smiling.

 

Then I asked, “Dinner tonight?”

She laughed loudly.

“Yes, sweetie. You like Karaoke?”

I laughed back at her.

“I love it.”

 

Knowing very well that my voice

was not made for singing.

But for trying.

JOY

XIX — The Sun

 

Oh, Cassandra.

The Sun.

Yes.

Janet.

The woman in the frog dress.

 

I don't know what you were expecting.

Apollo?

Helios?

Ra?

Humans have given this particular

force some rather impressive forms.

Golden gods.

Blazing chariots.

Solar crowns.

Very dramatic.

Cassandra got Janet.

Frankly, I think she got the stronger

version.

 

Joy has never been particularly

concerned with dignity.

Or volume.

Or appropriate clothing.

Apparently.

Within a few hours, Cassandra has

been complimented by a dog,

fed enough food for a small village,

forced to salsa with a stranger

and introduced to a cocktail that may

constitute a criminal offence.

She responds to this in the manner you

would expect.

She hides in her room.

 

From Janet.

Cassandra.

Who has faced gods.

Monsters.

Ancient curses.

An underworld.

Janet.

I just want us to appreciate that.

 

Unfortunately for Cassandra,

Joy is persistent.

And knows her room number.

I'm not asking.

By morning, Cassandra is barefoot,

wearing daisy sunglasses

and asking when they can do it again.

There are transformations that require

an underworld.

Apparently others require a sufficiently

strong cocktail.

And Karaoke.

Cassandra cannot sing.

She knows this.

For once, she doesn't care.

There you are.

Joy.

 

Oh, and Dicky?

Night shifts.

Thin.

Brooding.

Janet adores him.

Yes.

I know.

We'll get to him.

 

As for Hector -

No.

I haven't the slightest idea.

Dog. Possibly.

And I've been around

for a very long time.

Some mysteries should be respected.