Tarnished Gold

I waited, expecting he would just turn around and pole his way out, but he stood there, smiling.

'Out, oui,' he said, 'it seems like a very good idea.' He pulled his T-shirt over his head and began to unfasten his pants. I stared in disbelief. A few moments later, he was naked and unashamed of what I saw. He laughed and dove into the pond.

'Beautiful!' he cried. 'Come on in.'

'No, monsieur. I have to go home,' I said.

'Oh, nonsense. Come on. I don't bite.'

My blue heron, disturbed by Monsieur Tate's presence, swept down over the water and then over the trees and away, an omen I should have given more of my attention.

'No,' I said, and began to inch my way toward the edge of the rock and my pirogue. He saw where I was going and what I wanted to do and swam to my canoe before I got to it. He unfastened it and started to swim back toward his own.

'Monsieur!' I cried. 'What are you doing?' He laughed and tied my canoe to his.

'Now you have to swim,' he said. 'Come on. Dive in.'

I shook my head. 'Bring back my pirogue.'

He behaved as if he couldn't hear me, swimming round the canoes and then to the rock. I backed away as he boosted himself up and onto it.

'It feels good to be in Nature, to be au naturel, n'est-ce pas, Gabrielle?'

'Please, monsieur,' I said.

'Don't be frightened,' he said, and squatted down beside me. Then he lay back on the rock, putting his hands behind his head the way I had had my own. My heart was pounding. Here he was a married man, sprawled naked next to me. 'Oh, that feels so good,' he said. 'How long have you been coming here?'

I was sitting with my knees pulled up, the towel wrapped tightly around my shoulders. Could he not see how embarrassed I was? He behaved as though we were having a quiet conversation at a Sunday school picnic, but my abdomen felt like a hollowed-out cave.

'A long time,' I said.

'Very good. I can see why. You found a little piece of paradise. It's a wonderful spot. I love to get away from the noise and bustle of my business, get away to a place like this where you can be with your own thoughts and commune with Nature. That's what you do, isn't it, Gabrielle? Everyone calls you La Fille au Nature. I see why now,' he said, smiling. I continued to blush and looked away quickly.

'Please, monsieur.'

'What's wrong? A beautiful girl like you must have been with a man before, no?'

'No, monsieur. Not like this.'

'Really?' He turned on his side and reached out to touch my thigh. I nearly jumped off the rock. 'It's all right. Nothing to be afraid of. It's just as natural as . . . as your fish and birds.'

'But you are married, monsieur.'

'Married,' he said as if it were distasteful even to have the word in his mouth. 'I married too quickly and for the wrong reasons,' he added.

I glanced at him. Was no one happily wed? Was everyone fooled?

'What reasons?' I asked. He touched me again, tracing along my thigh with his finger as if he had his finger in beach sand.

'Money, wealth, power. Gladys's father owned the cannery.'

'You weren't in love?'

He laughed and rolled over on his back.

'Love,' he pronounced with his lips tight, as if saying it left a horrid taste on his tongue. 'I said it and she said it, but neither of us believed it. We swallowed our lies like castor oil and said 'I do' in front of the priest. Even he had doubts when he pronounced us man and wife. I could see it in his eyes. Mon Dieu. Love. Is there really such a thing?'

'Yes,' I said firmly.

'Your mother and father, are they truly in love?' he challenged with laughing eyes.

'They were,' I replied. He stared at me for a moment and then he smiled.

'I could fall in love with someone like you in the blink of an eye.'

'Monsieur Tate!'

'I'm not that old,' he protested. 'Yvette Livaudis, a girl in your class, is going to marry a man older than I am, right?' In the bayou everyone knew everyone else's business. I wasn't surprised he knew about Yvette. 'You shouldn't think me too old.'

'You're not old, monsieur,' I granted.

'That's right. I'm not.' He looked back at our canoes and then at me. 'I'll swim back and get your canoe,' he offered. 'Thank you, monsieur.'

'For a kiss,' he added, smiling.

'No, monsieur!' I cringed.