43- Deep océan

Mom has always told me not to talk to strangers, much less let myself be
portrayed by them," I replied. I didn't know why I was playing along, although,
strangest of all, it came so naturally to me. I just violated that rule, and I wouldn't
want to do it again.
He was silent for a few seconds. He combed his eyes all over the place (which was
not too big) and then pointed to one of the tables that, as a matter of fate rather
than chance, had just been vacated.
- What do you say we have a drink? We can talk, get to know each other, and then
you won't have to break any rules.
He seemed so excited about the idea of being able to take those pictures of me,
that I couldn't help but agree. We occupied the table he had just pointed out, and
almost immediately after, the waiter (whom I knew very well from all my trips to the
beach) approached us to take our order. He didn't order anything, but since he
gave me carte libre, I decided to take him at his word and ordered a salad.
-Let's start at the beginning," he asked me when the order was on the table. What
is your name?
-I answered, and just as I had expected, I could see on his face the same
expression that everyone had when they heard such a unique name. Before he
could ask me any of the questions I knew he was dying to ask me, I decided to
answer, "It's a Greek name, as you might have guessed. It's...well, it's based on an
ancient legend about a mermaid, but I'm sure you're not too interested in that part.
However, it soon became more than clear to me that he was interested, and much
more than I could have guessed. I had not finished speaking when he was already
asking me to tell him the whole story of my name, its origin and the legend that
revolved around it. He was so insistent that I ended up telling him even the
smallest and most unimportant detail. When I finally finished, it was his turn to
speak, and although his personal story was not tinged with mysticism like mine, it
ended up being no less interesting. His name, he told me, was Erick, and he had
been working as a professional photographer for several years in his native
London, a city to which he would return soon, when he had finished putting
together all the wonderful photographs that the magazine that had hired him
needed, which is why he was so interested in my agreeing to pose for him.
If I had had the time, I would have loved to continue talking to him for a couple of
hours; he was an interesting, mature boy who had seen a lot of the world despite
his young age. However, when I saw that night had fallen, I knew I had to get home
as soon as possible, or else my parents' scolding would be even worse. I wrote
down my number on a napkin, and while he promised to write me, I said goodbye,
thanked him for the talk and the salad, and ran out of the store. When I got home,
as I had expected, the mess I found myself in was tremendous. Mom and Dad
were very upset about my disappearance, but they were even more upset when I
told them about the reprimand the teacher had sent them. Since I wasn't too
attached to my cell phone or any kind of technology, it didn't occur to them that
taking it away from me might be a good punishment, which was fortunate.
However, they knew very well that I loved to go swimming every afternoon, so I
was forbidden to do so for the next two days. The confinement turned out to be
torture, but it would have been much worse if I had not had the company of Erick,
who, as promised, wrote to me, and continued to do so constantly throughout my
captivity.
When I was finally free to go out, I felt I knew him much better, so much so, in fact,
that I gladly accepted the second date he proposed to me at the same place where
we had had our first conversation. Excited at the prospect of seeing him again, I
dressed up as best I could and made sure I was at the right place at the right time.
When I arrived and saw him standing there, with his shirt unbuttoned halfway down
his chest, his Bermuda shorts and that tousled way he wore his hair, I realized that
he might be the first guy capable of arousing my genuine interest. Of course, I
wasn't foolish enough to let him see it right away, so I smiled and greeted him as if
it were nothing, trying to look my best. We occupied the same table as the first
time, and when the waiter came over to us, I ordered a mango drink and he
decided to go without again. At first that detail went unnoticed by me, but as we
talked more and more, and I realized that he didn't seem too concerned about
drinking anything, I couldn't resist anymore and ended up asking him a direct
question:
- Why don't you ever ask for anything?
- I beg your pardon," he asked in turn, for, apparently, my question had caught him
off guard.
-It's just...well, I don't want you to think I'm nosy or anything. It's just that I've
noticed that you never ask for anything to drink, and I'd like to know if there's any
special reason for that.
Throughout the conversation, he had made sure to answer my questions on the
spot, immediately after I asked them. This time, however, it was completely
different. He looked at me for a few seconds, then averted his eyes and finally
focused them back on me. More than once he opened his mouth as if to speak, but
at the last minute he seemed to regret it and slammed it shut. Just when I was
beginning to think he wouldn't say a word, he blurted out:
- Would you believe it if I told you I was allergic to water?
I have to admit: at first, I thought it was a complete joke. In fact, I was about to
burst out laughing when, seeing the look on his face, I realized that he was deadly
serious. Allergic to water? Was there really such a thing? I was so shocked and
surprised that it took me a long time to answer. And even when I was finally able to
rescue my voice from the deep, dark well into which it had fallen, all I could say
was: "I'm not allergic to water," I said:
- What?
Laughing, Erick began to explain to me that it was an extremely rare, one-in-a-
million condition that required a special diet and extreme care. I was so
embarrassed that I was about to laugh at what I thought was a joke that I
immediately apologized, although he assured me that this was a common reaction
in people who had just learned of his strange condition. However, that was not
enough for me. In addition to the shame I felt, there was the pain I felt when I
imagined myself in that situation, and how terrible it must have been to bear. I
loved the water, I loved swimming and connecting with nature through water, and
the mere thought of the possibility of not being able to do it, of being physically
incapable, made me feel lost, as if my center of gravity had gone out of whack.
Before I could think about what I was doing, I got up from the table and started
walking towards the exit.
Are you leaving already," he asked me, also getting up to follow me.