January 1980
Dear Diary:
We are on the road. I got a glimpse of a huge rare green vessel with weird looking barrels underneath. Gaston and his “grown ups” are going to the beach and he is taking some of us with him. I don’t know what the beach is but he is so excited that we all get excited too. It is a long trip but we finally get there.
He has a different kind of terrace here. This kid is so lucky. “We” are so lucky! All is green and soft to the touch. The air is different and still. Is it salty? Day goes away fast and night unfurls its starry gown. I have never seen so many stars in my life! I could sail with this sky as a map!
Excitement is at its most! He touches soft, warm soil and he makes me touch it too. “Sand!” he tells me, and off he runs to take some twigs. He builds me up a tropical island and puts me there to rest. I can hear a buzz surrounding us, but it is sand I see and nothing else.
After my short nap he takes me up, he takes my boat and run. My island is behind, in front, I just can’t see. And then he sits me gently on my boat and I’m surprised by the show in front of me. Water everywhere my eyes can reach, waves, foam, shells, endless sky and distant shores.
He makes me sail my little boat. The water rocks me left and right. This is heaven, I could guess.
Could I have a bigger smile please?
January 1982
Dear Diary:
Today is our birthday again. A few like this have past. My kid is growing fast. I’m still the same. A new crew has arrived. Some exciting group with a strange baby animal and a dark faced guy. They bring some modern equipment and shiny new clothes. That’s so much more exciting than this black handicapped pirate that I am. Gaston loves this man with the strange face and keeps a special place for him too.
That special place can’t be that special if so many of us have owned it. I must be worn out.
I’m completely naked now. I think I lost all that I had…I think I haven’t been out much… I think I think too much.
He lets me rest a lot, and so, I watch him play. A daily sweet torture to hope for, and to endure.
I smile.
July 1985
Dear Diary:
Not much have changed for me. It is as time has frozen, holding me in its icy embrace. A lot like me have come and gone over the years. And though it seems it should; nothing changes.
He loves us all he says and leaves us here to sleep. I dream of him and my own owned sea. I dream of sand and island twigs.
Do I still have a smile?
