The Pool at Piula
In a previous post, “Finding Support in a Lonely Endeavor,” I wrote about submitting two stories to a journal at the local college. I’d recently moved to a new town, and I thought that would be a good way to meet other writers. I shared one of those stories, A Blind Eye, on my blog.
Now I’ll tell you about the other one. It has a back story.
Tagging along on my Husband’s Business Trips
For the first fifteen years of living abroad, I steered clear of my husband’s business trips. His work was serious stuff, I thought. I’d just be in the way. Besides, I had three daughters to look after.
Then the girls grew up (more or less), and I decided to accompany him on a two-week business trip up and down the coast of China. That’s when I found out that “tagging along” was a great way to travel. When he was working, I could wander around the city or join a tour. He would be free for dinner and for sightseeing on the weekends.
After we moved to Vanuatu, I accompanied him on more business trips, including the Solomon Islands, Fiji, and Western Samoa. I always brought a journal and took notes.
In Western Samoa, we visited a lovely pool during the weekend. Nothing particularly interesting happened to us while we were there, but the pool and its cave fascinated me. All I had to do was put some other more interesting characters into that pool.
Here’s how the story I wrote begins:
“The Pool at Piula”
She could have slid into the pool on her own, but Russell was waiting below her, his arm raised to help her down, his weight carefully balanced to receive either possibility: her hand or her rejection. She took his hand. She even smiled, though without parting her lips. These were the efforts she must make if she were to begin loving him again—which, after all, was why she had come with him on his business trip to Western Samoa. That, and not to see the pool at Piula.
For four, maybe five years, he had talked about showing her the pool. “The most romantic swimming hole in the world,” is what he’d called it. Mandy remembered him easing her back on their bed and describing the pool’s clear water, the way you could swim inside its cave and forget about everything. He’d just returned from his first mission to Samoa, and he was still wearing his suit and shoes. His suitcase was still standing by the bedroom door. The pool was right next to the ocean, he told her, but the salt water didn’t seep into it. “I tell you,” he said, “that pool’s as pure as all innocence.” That was only a few months after they moved to Bangkok. She was pregnant then with Patrick, her belly already a round dome holding up her nightie.
But now that he’d brought her to the pool, he didn’t let on that he’d ever seen it before. Yesterday he mentioned only that they would be going for an outing. “The Treasury has arranged a car for us,” he said. “They thought we might like to see some of the country around Apia.” Pesi Fetuani, Russell’s colleague, was to join them.
The next morning, they waited, Mandy and the two men, on the porch of Aggie Grey’s Hotel, watching a ragged parade of dump trucks and taxis, government mini-vans, and knobby-kneed tourists with backpacks pass in front of them. The fabled South Seas seemed like any other place, maybe even tawdrier and more confused than most. Under cloudy skies the unspectacular bay looked shallow and colorless.
(To continue reading, go to “Stories” above.)
You are such a good storyteller. And I liked the background you gave us before sharing your written story. Tagging along can be tiresome but not when you are fine going about on your own, as you did.
Thank you, Pamela. The good thing about tagging along with my husband was that he always went to interesting places, and often I got to meet his counterparts and sometimes attend fancy dinners.
Lovely write up, Nicki. Lots of tension there. The choices one has to make with someone sometimes. I agree with what Lani said – that it is fun to recall all of the places you’ve been too. Writing it all down must help. And these days you can look anything up online, even people’s stories from visiting from years ago. It must be fun to look back and look back with a different perspective. Tagging along on a trip is always fun, especially if you will have a lot of flexibility to see and do what you want.
Thank you, Mabel. I did write in my journal when I visited a new and interesting place. It’s helpful to research small details online. Personal experience is better, though.
It must be fun to be able to recall all these places you’ve been for your stories. I’m horrible about this. Do you have a good memory? Photos to help? Both? Or another magical way to help you write about places?
I don’t have a good memory, Lani. I started keeping a journal in the mid-seventies, writing about lots of little details of things and people I saw and heard. I haven’t been keeping a journal for quite a few years, though, now. Maybe my life seems less interesting. I didn’t take many photos until I bought a cellphone. I’m not sure when that was, but I wasn’t an early adopter. This story is actually quite old.
It’s sometimes difficult to separate your feelings of sympathy for a situation and the person who is at the center of the situation. Case in point, Russell.
I figure Mandy will eventually have to give up her sympathy and walk away. Although I’m not really sure they’ll be able to get out of that scary cave alive.
I worked with a guy who was in the throes of getting a divorce, and we were heading towards dating once it was all through. Until he mentioned how angry his wife had been when he went out for a drink with friends when he was at home alone with their children while she went to the gym. The children were 6 & 4. All the attraction died right there…
I think you’re right that most relationship founder in those circumstances, even when there is no fault or guilt. Nothing worse than a grown man (or woman) whose first thought is to insist they’re not to blame.
A powerful story Nicki.
Thanks, Debs. Yes. Even when there’s no one to blame, I think it’s hard on a marriage to lose a child. But when one of the partners is at fault, it would be really hard to stay together.
I can see why you lost all interest in the guy you worked with.
I would like to check out that pool in person! It sounds lovely. At the same time, I think I probably want to smack Russell in the face.
The pool really was lovely, and even the first part of the cave with the high ceiling was beautiful. But deep dark caves are a special kind of horror.
I’m glad you feel that way about Russell. I’ve heard of cases like this where a child dies, and whether or not one parent is at fault, they’ll probably end up divorcing.
I could sense the tension in the story, Nicki, with her smile without her lips parting and his stance. 😊😊 Congrats on submitting it and others.
How lovely that you were able to travel to so many places via your husband’s business trips. I miss having a company travel budget. 😊
Thanks, L. Marie. It’s a story a wrote a long time ago, but I figured that I should take it out of the drawer. At one time I thought I would try to publish a collection, but I’m really not in the mood to go through all that hassle.
Yes. Having a company travel budget is a great way to travel.