Saving Beauty and the Beast

"Come here, Miss Phan." He says.

He is commanding me now like a drill sergeant.

"I can't." I say.

"Humour me. You can see, you can walk and you know I bloody well can't." He says.

There is emotion brimming in him too and it is bursting at its seams.

I go much nearer to him. He hears the shuffling of my footsteps. His hand reaches out. I lift my hands, thinking that he wants to shake them to say goodbye.

But he heads for my face instead.

"You are crying." He says, in a soft voice.

He touches my cheeks, all drenched in tears. He wipes my tears away with his hands.

"Stay with me. Don't go then." He says.

His voice is tender again like last night. I cannot take it. I cannot take his tenderness. I do not know how to manage it.

"Promise me that you'll walk with me then. It means more to me than you'll ever know." I say, choking on a cough and sob.

"I promise, my moonbeam. I do promise you this."

His deep, guttural answer is all I wanted to hear.

I kiss him lightly on his forehead, the same way he kissed me last night. Then I lead him to the pier. And we walk. And walk and fall and walk again.

He grumbles, he snorts but he obliges. And that is good enough.

"This intolerable woman." He will say.

To which I will retort, "This beast of a man."

On rare occasions, when he is not thinking too much and speaking naturally, he calls me his moonbeam, and I wonder if he does appreciate me more than just a little.

Night time was the time that he was prone to be more expressive. One night after dinner, breaking the silence, he says, "Oh, you likable thing. You sweet, sweet creature."

At least I know he does like me because he thinks I am a sweet, sweet creature.

But in reality I am a sad, sad creature trying to balance my life by using him as my lifeline.

*

From that day onwards, twice a day, Andrew walks with me. Despite our disparate difference in height, we manage it. I do not tell him that he is heavy on my shoulders for fear he would abandon my plan altogether. My shoulders hurt but I feel it is worth it. His feet are useless. They drag along the pier. Never once did I see any life in them. I know it, and of course, he knows it. But I pester on.

It had been one month of walking. He has become part of my routine apart from my piano classes with the children. It is nice to have more adult interaction apart from work conversations with the principal of the small music school. It was basically just me and her teaching the children. Students who want to learn how to play the piano are hard to come by in this town where emphasis is on technology and programing. Lots of factories are being built sprouting like mushrooms after rain for the production line. The bubble has burst somewhat the remnants are still here.

This evening, I attempt to push his wheelchair through the sand. He laughs at my effort.

"Told you it wouldn't work. It depends on the quality of the sand." He says.

"The last time it did. The quality is the same. This is the same sand." I say.

"Miss Phan, the sand is completely dry today. Two days ago, it was wetter and stickier so you can manage, but now the wheels only flap up the sand." He says.

I breathe in deeply. Yes, he is right actually.

"And may I say you are getting sand all into my mouth with your actions." He says.

But he is merry. He is not angry. By now I know very well when he is angry and when not. Sometimes he is angry but he speaks so calmly, and there are times when he is so happy that he speaks loudly like he is shouting.

"You're right, sir." I say, but I make a funny face at him.

He cannot see it.

"You're making fun of me." He says.

"How did you know?" I say.

I wonder if he has a sixth sense.

"I can feel you, moonbeam. I think I always can." He says.

His voice is mellow and deep and he speaks unrelentingly like he is so sure of himself.

I feel uncomfortable when he speaks like this, brimming with emotions other than merriness or anger.

I keep quiet and stop pushing the wheelchair. I gaze out into the pier. The Equanimity stands proud and tall. It looks kind of serene. It makes me feel serene too, but not quite. Emotions rise in me.

I do not pay attention to anything else then. I try to erase all the emotions which crept up due to his words because I am a train wreck.

"I'll go and look for some seashells over there. I'll leave you here for a while." I tell Andrew.

"Alright, moonbeam." He says.

His voice still holds a tinge of emotion.

I walk as far as I could to the other end of the shore which is curved and shaded with swamp trees. It is darker here due to the messy foliage. I want to get away from Andrew for a while. Sometimes he can be overwhelming.

Suddenly I am pushed into the sand. I look up and see a big, burly man.

"Money. Right now." He says.

His voice is not very loud nor soft, but it sends shivers down my spine.

"I have no money with me." I gasp, looking upwards at him.

It is the truth. When I am with Andrew in the evenings, I do not take my purse with me. There was no need for money. We did not buy anything. We did not spend. All we spent was time together. It was Suzanna who did all the groceries in town.

"Don't lie. Superyacht here and you say you have no money." The thug threatens.

He dives straight for me. I scream. He muffles my silence with his hands. He lies on top of me and skims my pockets. He finds I have nothing.

"You have something else I could do with." He smirks at me.

He starts fondling my upper body and I try to bite his fingers. He grabs my breasts. He slaps my face. I scream and scream. I cannot stop screaming my heart out.

"Help! Help!" My voice is hoarse.

Suddenly I feel something yank him away.

"Let her go, you bastard."

I hear Andrew's voice. I hear men punching each other. I hear groans and cursing and swearing.

I look up the moment Andrew punches the thug in the face, at the nose. Then the thug punches Andrew in the abdomen. Then I see Ralph and Alfonso. They come to the rescue.

All at once, the thug is apprehended. His face is bloodied. Andrew flings himself on the sand. I crawl to him. I crash into him and I sob my heart out.

"It's alright now, moonbeam. It's alright. You are safe. No one will ever harm you again. I promise." He says.

I don't look up at anything else. I see the darkness of his chest. I grasp his body. I don't want to let go. He doesn't let go of me either. I feel myself being lifted and then darkness falls upon me.

*

The next thing is I remember waking up in his bedroom in the yacht. He is holding my hand. He is brushing back strands of my hair. He is saying cooing words to me like he is trying to calm a baby down.

I jolt upright.

"Moonbeam, how do you feel?" He asks tenderly.

"I am not sure. I am afraid of how I feel and how I should feel." I say.

I find that I have passed out and emergency services were called. The police have since apprehended the thug.

"Andrew, stay with me. Don't leave me." I cry out suddenly.

"I will not leave your side ever. I want to be with you always. You can count on me." He says, tenderly, achingly and sadly.

"I am not brave. I am weak. I am losing control of my thoughts again. I am panicking." I say.

My breath gets quicker and I start hyperventilating.

I know what is happening and I cannot stop it. I am going full blast now.

I am going crazy. I am going to die.

I scream again but I know I am screaming. I just cannot help it.

"Andrew, help me, please take the pain away. Please help me. I cannot help myself. I cannot control it." I say.

I hear his voice. He is saying things to me. I don't catch them. I only hear him. He holds me tight. He strokes my back. He kisses me. His breath is on me.

"Concentrate on your breathing. Listen to my voice. Take a deep breath now. Ok. Good. In and now breathe out. In and out."

"You are doing well. In and out. Yes, that's very good. You are doing just fine. In and out."

His deep, deep voice I concentrate on. And my breath I try to control.

After what seem like ages, I finally get my grip on reality.

"Andrew, you are too nice to me." I whisper, barely having enough strength for more.

He looks kind of torn, tired and more haggard than he already was.

"Eat, if not I won't be nice to you." He says.

His voice reeks of an emotion which brings tears to my eyes again.

I see him passing me a bowl of soup from the side table. I take the bowl and drink the soup immediately.

After that, he gives me a sedative and I take that too.

"You need to have a good night's sleep. Trust me on this." He tells me.

I do trust him. I take the sedative and I fall into very deep sleep, the first time in years.

*

When I wake up, it is already morning. I feel much, much better than I did yesterday. I woke up from an intoxicating dream.

I realise that I am dressed in new clothes. My body feels fresh. Someone must have wiped my body clean and changed my attire last night.

I feel embarrassed and I know that he was the one who had gently cleaned me up. I had felt last night gentle hands caressing me and I moulded perfectly into those hands.

"My moonbeam is awake." He says.

I turn and see him standing in the corner of the room with the clothes I had worn yesterday. He walks towards the bed, towards me.

Something is not quite right. It takes a moment for me to register this fact.

"You can walk!" I gasp.

"Andrew, you can walk!" I gasp again.

Before he can answer me, I am asking a dozen questions. How and when?

"Because of you, moonbeam." He says.

"Me?" I ask.

All I can recall was I was attacked, and then I was a total breakdown.

"The when I know. I heard you screaming. I rushed towards you. How I do not know. I wasn't thinking. I just knew I needed to get to you. You were my life. I could not lose you. I followed your voice. I wasn't even thinking of my legs, of how I ran. I was just thinking of getting to you." He says.

"Oh Andrew..." I say.

"The emotional trigger was so great I guess. I had always loved you, moonbeam. I have since the first time we met I think. Only that I could not trust my emotional state of mind. I have had breakdowns, that you already know." He says.

I try to put my fingers on his lips. He holds my fingers there. Our intertwined fingers brushing his lips.

"I am a total wreck too. I don't trust myself." I say.

"I know you love me, my dearest moonbeam. We have been fighting it for too long. Let us just stop fighting and make peace with our feelings, shall we, my love?" He asks.

"Andrew, what if it doesn't work out? What if you find that I have too much of a baggage to carry?" I ask.

"It will work out because I want us to work. We can, and we will. I love you with all my heart, and I believe this love I have for you will pull us through the difficult times." He says, tenderly and lovingly.

My heart melts into him and for him.

"I love you, Andrew." I say.

"I always have and I always will." I continue.

I am not shy now. I am not even blushing. I am letting him see the real me. The shattered, torn, scarred one.

I am telling him the truth. It is all that matters now. No more hiding my feelings for him.

"Lisa Phan, oh, how it soothes my heart to hear you say this. My darling, how I long to hold you in my arms and to show you how much I love you." He says.

"Show me then, Andrew. Show me the splendid tropical island getaway fuck." I say, achingly.

He does show me with every inch of his body. I convulse and my body spasms with his. My breath is his breath. Our conjoined bodies mould into one. Sweat, tears and peace. Finally.

He shows me his love in every thrust of his body. I hear him grunt and groan when he enters me. He moulds my breasts, pinches my nipples and plays with the most sensitive part of me with such vigour that I convulse again and again.

"Andrew!" I scream.

He kisses my mouth, he licks my tongue and he nibbles my ear.

"So desirable, so wet. You are mine, no one else's." He says.

"I belong to you, Andrew." I scream again. "I had desired you when I saw you naked for the first time that night when we had been drinking." I say, after our passionate and tender love-making.

"I desired you too, love. I had wished that you had taken advantage of me but you did not." He says, seriously.

*

I think God only helps us if we help ourselves first. We have been granted another miracle. After the bandages were removed six months later for good, Andrew regained sight of both his eyes. He has to wear thick glasses but what is it compared to being blind?

He sees me for the first time.

"My wife. My moonbeam. So heart-wrenchingly beautiful." He says.

I see his eyes for the first time and I am mesmerized all over again.

His eyes? The colour of midnight blue. The colour of the blue moon.

He was the miracle in my life. He was the blue moon that never could have existed if not for Ralph's intervention.

Its depths so deep that I can drown in his passion, his love for me and everything that he could give me, I would take in crazily. I just love him so much.

"You are the blue moon. Your eyes...they are so beautiful." I say, breathless.

His eyes sparkle with all the blueness alight.

"Moonbeam, we are good together. All is well in our world. Kiss my eyes now, Mrs de Louterbergh."

I do kiss him. I do more than just kiss him.

Our story ends here. A new horizon beckons us, and we are grateful to have found each other. Ralph remains in Andrew's employment, so do Alfonso and Suzanna. Ralph becomes the godfather to our child, named Ralph as well.

I have never expected to become a mother, but after advances in fertility treatments, I was able to conceive five years later. Andrew and I raised our family here. We built a house together by the shore. My grandmother visits us now and then and vice-versa. I learn to forgive, to forget.

And every day, before the sun rises to dawn, we walk the whole length of the pier without fail.

I love you Andrew, so much. I just want to say this again. You made me whole. It is true that love really changes everything and conquers all.

I dedicate this story, maybe written terribly and in much haste to you, Andrew, because I feel such a surge in me. This surge of love. I feel that if I do not complete this story, I will not be calm. I write in my pidgin English. By now you already know this is the way we locals speak here. Forsooth, my love!

Faithfully and lovingly yours,

Your moonbeam

On a night where moons collide

25th October 2019

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