A story about an intense love affair between two p
That evening Victor stumbled back to the hotel, looking amused and giggly – a sure sign that he had smoked grass somewhere along the way. The sound of my guitar must have attracted him to the patio where, enveloped in the fragrances of tropical flowers, I liked to play songs with other travelers. He approached us with his flamboyant step and unpretentious assurance in his face. Emmanuelle, a French girl sitting by my side, suddenly straightened up and looked expectantly in his direction. Girls often do this when a romantic interest is at stake.
Emmanuelle didn’t say much when I introduced her to Victor. In her perfectly plotted feminine scheme there was no place for dialogue. Having instantaneously made up her mind about Victor, she preferred to observe him from the deep hiding of her passions. To be frank, the encounter on the colonial patio was nothing else but a classic example of what the French like to call ‘coup de foudre‘, a profound case of infatuation, driven to the limits of intensity in the Tropics. "Enchante", Victor briefly switched to French while locking her hand in his gentle grip. She didn’t budge for an instant.
It was the moment when both of them eyed one another with intensity. I couldn’t measure the amount of energy exchanged between them in that brief eye contact. However, its flow was enough to make me wonder what would come next. Of course, I did my best to cover up my observation. Victor, on the other hand, leaning casually against the railing of the patio, was pulled, like a metal object, into Emmanuelle’s range of gravity. Sitting relaxed with her graceful legs stretched out, she seemed in control of the situation. Victor couldn’t possibly make out whether this beauty in black dress and equally alluring black sandals ever noticed his interest in the game. She was one of those women that embrace the world with one big flirtatious stare of their eyes.
Emmanuelle’s eyes smiled at Victor almost on the par with her well-defined lips. The smile, intensely romantic, seemed carved out by some mysterious happy ending, dating back to her childhood. Victor loved it. He fell for it from the very beginning but his innate pride prevented him from showing the sign of weakness. "If you don’t know the girl, you’d better be careful. This one, for her exceptional beauty combined with a traveling spirit, can be a big time tease!"
Victor’s nearly innate apprehension was justified by experience of the past. However, Emmanuelle was nothing like he first expected her to be. Together with her friend, Catel, she traveled for the sake of adventure. South America was an easy choice since Emmanuelle already spoke Spanish and knew a great deal about Latin American culture through her boisterous night life in the French capital. A girl with a character, she never hesitated to go as far as any male traveler ever ventured. "J’adore la plage," she liked to say in a dreamy voice, automatically melting away people’s resistance to her idea of hanging around the beach all day. She explored the entire coast of Colombia, from the extremities of the Tyrona Beach to the seedy environs of Turbo, a murky town near the Panamanian border. I often pictured her in my imagination on a far-off strip of sand, facing pensively the horizon.
Emmanuelle wasn’t a tease. If anything, she had a noble heart through which she perceived, judged, and comprehended the world. "Use more heart and less brain and you will be better off. As simple as that," she told me toward the end of one evening as we were closing on our nth bottle of beer. If I could permit myself a degree of generalization, she looked very French, extremely French and so beautiful at the same time. God, she embodied the Paris of the 1960’s, the city at the peak of its modern glory! Sharp cheekbones and shapely nose enhanced her olive-colored face while her large brown Mediterranean eyes projected sweet melancholia, inherent in most of the French movies. They expressed the sensation of late summer afternoons in the Parisian cafes; tranquil and relaxed strolls along the Seine; or chilly and melodious rainfalls in the French autumn. Her voice, soft-spoken, resonated like a courtly chime, sending the listeners, with every pronouncement, a shower of shivers.
Read all three parts of the adventure!
Part One
Part Two
Part Three