Tabula Rasa

Frederique lay back on it and gazed at the sky. His eyes tracked the few light clouds drifting lackadaisically across it, as though they too had adapted to the slow pace of this isolated island. Frederique had arrived a few days earlier from the mainland to set up a temporary vaccination clinic and he was already feeling the stress ooze from his bones; his anxiety flaking off him in shards, leaving their jagged little pieces littered across the town. He daydreamed about the waitress he saw in the cafe that morning. The way her thick black hair flowed around her shoulders; the way she said good morning and held his gaze; the way that her hand brushed against his lightly when she gave him his change. He wallowed contentedly in his warm thoughts, teetering on the brink of consciousness. He must have fallen asleep as was jolted awake by an older woman standing over him. She was wearing an apron and brandishing a broom, waving it at him threateningly. "What are you doing? The presumptuousness of the young! You are sleeping on his grave! Imagine, sleeping on someone's grave... no-one ever slept on anyone's grave back in my day, I can't believe it!" She shouted angrily looking down at him, gesticulating at him with the broom. She then started to make brushing movements with it as though to brush him off. "Well, shoo shoo! Get up, stop sleeping on his grave! Oh, the young, the young..." He gathered his senses and leapt up, apologizing profusely, although somewhat confusedly. "I am awfully sorry, I didn't see there was a grave on this hill..." She cut him off abruptly. "A grave ON the hill? A grave ON the hill? The hill is the grave! Oh the indolence of the youth." She began brushing him off the hill again, shooing him back down. He apologized all the way to the bottom, where she pointed incredulously at a small gravestone. "See!" She read off the gravestone, somewhat triumphantly as though he was doubting her, "'Here lies Alfonso Perez, former mayor and savior of this town. May he always be remembered.' I told you, this is a grave.'" She gave him a tut, and began sweeping the gravestone and around the base of the hill. He offered a feeble, confused apology to her retreating back and headed back to his lodgings in town. The next day he went back the cafe with the waitress. He ordered his coffee and pastry and when it arrived he asked the waitress about the woman who shouted at him: in part of relieve him of his curiosity, in part as an excuse to talk to her. To his delight, she agreed. Glancing at the counter to make sure no-one else needed serving she sat down at the table beside him. "The woman you met was almost definitely Maria Perez, the late mayors wife. She goes out twice a day to tidy up the grave. Once in the morning and once in the evening, though she does a terrible job of it." "That's what I don't understand, you both described the hill as a grave." "It is a grave. Look, I don't have time now, but if you come back at the end of my shift I will explain properly. I finish at 6." Not waiting for an answer, she got up and hurried back to the counter greeting one of the regulars loudly. He returned at 6 and waited outside whilst she shut up the cafe. They wandered through the warm night air in comfortable silence, before stopping at a small taverna. She went inside and got wine and gossiped with the barman for a bit, before returning, pouring them each a glass and carrying on with her story. "Many years before I was born, the island was in a real state. We were in drought and the olive harvests were very poor. The young people where leaving the island in droves, looking for a better life on the mainland. Then the plague hit. The mayor told us of the terrible disease ravaging the mainland so he closed off the port and didn't allow anyone in or out. He had to protect the island. We were locked down like that for decades. It was hard for us, but I can't imagine how hard it must of been for all you on the mainland." She placed her hand on his and gave him a sympathetic look. A chill ran up his spine. "My parents talk of how hard it was, food and medicine shortages, especially in the first few years. But they learned to return to the old ways and life became somewhat normal. The community came together and were strong. They were so glad the clever mayor had acted so quickly to make sure were were all safe." "Once the danger on the mainland had passed, and the port re-opened everyone was so happy with their way of life that no-one wanted to leave. A few years went by and sadly the old mayor passed away. When it came to his funeral, the whole island turned out, so proud we were of our savior in those hard times. I was just a little girl at the time but I remember the mourners all lined up in a huge line, filing past the grave. As each mourner passed, they scattered a handful of earth on the grave. So loved was our mayor that by the time the last mourner had come past, the dirt had risen up so high as to form that hill you were on yesterday." As he looked into her beautiful earnest eyes, he realized he could never tell her that there was no plague on the mainland, and out there stood a stood a hill, not a testament to a brave man defending his island, but a folly erected to their captor.