***
It’s that time of day when the sky has been electrified into steams of pinkish-orange and everything that comes into contact with its rays, is immediately brought to life. I like coming to Rhodes Memorial for a couple of reasons: Against the architecture, the size of my smaller-than-average self gets lost. Nothing is more gripping than the feeling of being close to non-existence. The other reason appears just after sunset, when the city is revived by specks of swaying lights. There’s that moment just before sunset when the city seems to have fallen asleep and then it awakens into a dance across the horizon, urged on by the seducing lights. There’s no choreography but still they move in perfect synchrony.
Being so high up in the mountains makes it hard for sound to find you. I can only hear the sound of trees and wind as they get caught up in some fight between sky and earth and I find myself following the whirlwind of leaves as they juggle towards the edge. This time they’re met by a female figure and play with her hair before they finally descend. My attention lingers on her rigid frame that at the same time, loosens up as she lifts both arms out in a crucifying form.
“Don’t! Don’t jump!” I find myself screaming before I’ve even had a chance to process what’s going on. She shoots her head at me with a face abused by tears.
“Leave me alone. Please.” She squeezes out between sobs.
“I don’t think I’d be able to walk away, knowing there’s a girl standing on the edge of a mountain with one foot already dangling over,” I stutter in an attempt to find something more reassuring to say, “and I think I was here first anyway.” I hold my breath and climb up onto the edge where she’s standing.
“What the hell are you doing? Get back down!” But instead of listening to what she says, I look straight ahead and sigh at the beautiful view, while trying to ignore the fact that I am standing on the edge of a mountain.
“Thanks for joining me, I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it,” I say as I motion for her to join me in sitting down with my feet dangling above the dark drop. Something in her face softens and she obliges. I keep to my aloof character and search for something constructive to say. “So – “
“What are you doing?” she asks and before I think of some witty comeback I look at her face. It’s partially lit by the moon and by a golden spot light that overlooks the area. The combination of the two light sources on her face makes her look like she’s super human. But that could just be her strikingly big eyes that look deep enough to be holding the ocean, or that the ocean may have even spilled from them. I sat there for what seemed like a life time, staring, but my silence didn’t bother her, it was almost as if she was taking refuge in my sympathetic gaze, that, or she could tell that I was more intrigued in what she had to say rather than anything I could ever think to speak.
“Michelle,” she says without moving her eyes from mine. “My name is Michelle.” Now that her voice had calmed, I noticed the most perfect softness in it, like the voice of a child being reprimanded by a parent. It felt alien to have kept eye contact like this for as long as we had and I felt my head pull forward.
“You can call me Jess.”
She echoes my name back with a smile, “Jess.”
“You know, according to ancient beliefs, if someone is standing on the edge of a cliff, something might be upsetting them.” I wonder if humour is the right way to handle this, but settle with it anyway, “but that’s just according to ancient beliefs.”
“God, I’m going to sound so pathetic to you.” Pathetic doesn’t even cross my mind. “It feels weird to even be saying this out loud! I think – no, I know – that I’m gay. I also know that there is no way in hell that my parents will accept it.” I try keeping my face mutual but it’s hard when I’m surprised and confused at the same time. I’ve seen lesbians before and they don’t look anything like her. I take another look at her: she’s tiny, not in a child-like way though, more petit. Her hair falls down her back the way the clouds sometimes linger down the mountain, in a colour that reminds me of freshly baked brownies. Having long hair alone, goes against the stereotype of lesbians that I’m used to seeing.
“That’s hardly worth jumping off a mountain. I know people who are just dying to be lesbian. Consider yourself lucky,” I find myself saying anything to encourage a smile, a smile strangely intriguing. I am successful and I linger on it longer than necessary.
“So is that your thing? Being the funny one?”
“No, I only use my humour on suicidal teens and aging superheroes.”
She laughs, “I wasn’t actually going to do it. I was thinking about it but knowing me, I wouldn’t even get suicide right.” How can such a strikingly beautiful girl have such a low self esteem? “What about you?”
“Oh no, I always thought my way out would be with a bottle of pills instead.”
“No, I mean what is your story? Who is Jess?”
“I never really know how to answer that. I guess, my story is still being written. I moved here to discover that all out for myself and I’m still waiting for answers. I think one of the reasons I left Johannesburg was to rid myself of all labels and just start my age of independence with a clean slate. I also heard Cape Town often has girls threatening to jump off the edge and I couldn’t just stand by and let it happen.”
“Do you ever take anything seriously?”
“Well my mom always used to tell me, “The only thing you should ever take seriously, is cheese” and I follow that advice wholeheartedly. There’s just so much more to cheese than meets the eye.” She gives me a comforting laugh and my eyes start to mirror the smile in her eyes. “Life is only going in one direction and I think that leaves us with too little time to be serious.”
“I wish I could have your attitude. I think the only thing my mother taught me was to be a cynic. I’ve spent my whole life looking for all the bad in the world. Maybe I should spend more time with you.” I can’t decide whether the tone in that last part is reassuring or seducing.
“Au contraire, you might regret having said that. I can’t turn this off, this divine sense of humour I’ve been blessed with. You have to be sure it’s what you want because there’s no turning back.” The smile I now received was more for herself than for me, like an acceptance of what I had said and almost a promise to herself.
I couldn’t tell you how much time had gone past. We sat there, side by side, just watching the dancing lights and found a comforter in the silence. Every so often I would catch myself smiling. The wind has picked up and I edge closer to her for shelter. “What are you going to do about your parents?”
“I honestly. Don’t. know.” There’s such a stillness in her, “I’m afraid they’re going to stop loving me. That sounds so naïve doesn’t it? “Stop loving me.” But for me to think that it’s a possibility must mean something? It doesn’t feel unconditional like they way it should.”
I don’t know what to say back. Some part of me wants to tell her that she’s too beautiful not to be loved, but then I’ll sound naïve. The best I can come up with is, “tell them anyway. No good has come from sitting around thinking of the worst. Tell them and also tell them how you feel. They should be proud to have such a beautiful daughter who’s brave enough to accept who she is.” She doesn’t say anything but I can see the corners of her mouth turn up. “A smile?”
“You think I’m beautiful…”
My chest starts to warm up. although I can’t see it, I’m sure I’ve gone red from my neck all the way through to my cheeks. There’s a pull towards her that I can’t explain. I’ve never thought of girl in this way and I’m sure I won’t think of any others this way either. My body is in shock and my feet have gone numb. I raise my hand to her face and I pull her hair out the way of her eyes. Even if I tried to stop myself, I don’t think I could. I lower my face to hers and I let the feeling of her breath brush my lips. For the longest time we’re frozen there, swallowing everything that has happened. I want to open my eyes, just to look at her again but she intercepts my decision by bringing her lips to mine.
Her lips aren’t what I’m used to, they’re fuller and softer. For a second I’m stunned, what am I doing? But before I can answer, I start kissing her back. The hand holding me up suddenly has warm fingers wrapping around it and she pulls away to whisper, “Let’s get off this ledge.”
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