A wave was as opposite of Charly’s nature as it was possible to be. Charly, he chewed metal nuts for breakfast. The he turned on all the chainsaws in the house and screamed with them. Before showering, he pulled all the hair out of his chest, to show the water who was stronger, but by the time he finished showering, it had all grown back. A wave, it is something very different from Charly.
When it is not as big as a hammer, a wave is soft as a caress. A wave is sensuous in shape, in movement, in color, in surface, even in the way it collapses and disappears into the sand. If you surrender to a wave, the forces of the Earth they reveal their mystery to you: they show you the secret place where intersect the weight of your body, your momentum, the wave’s momentum, the angle of its surface, the power of the wave, the name of the force that keeps things on the surface of the water. That place of magic changes every second. You have to listen with your skin.
Charly, he did not know surrender. He did not respond to mystery. I had been around him long enough to realize he had the sensuality of a dog who protects a junkyard. He had the seduction abilities of big, fat nail that you step on with the heel of your foot. I did not and do not understand how a girl as beautiful and sensual as Milagros had any interest in him.
Waves were so much the opposite of Charly that once he tasted them, he developed a hunger that did not stop. The more he consumed the waves, the more he needed them.
Except from Chapter 27, “Standing in Isabel’s Doorway. ”
Photo courtesy of http://iliketowastemytime.com/2013/05/07/daily-wallpaper-wave.