Terai sat on an old stool next to the fragrant vanilla beans drying in the sun on racks made from crate wood slats and old chicken wire, her eyes following the game while her heart thumped a crazy dance as one of the chinese young men stood next to her waiting to get in again. He smelled rich-of cologne, not like an old sweaty moldy T-shirt like most of the Tahitian boys she knew did.
For a Chinese boy , he was vain, he wore a half opened red tinged tiare behind his left ear. The tiare, Gardenia tahitientis, are white , the last time she checked.
" What on earth did he do to make it red? Even the girls went as far as cover the tiare buds with its leaves twisted into little cones to force enough flowers to make a lei, or hei in Tahitian, to mature faster for a dance or other important events, but to change their colors?"
The boy turned his head and cocked his head pleasantly at her and returned his attention to the game, but she noticed he came back to the same spot next to her every time he was out. She swung her feet nervously perched on her stool, her dark burnished vanilla skin pearling with perspiration, betraying her excitement.
"What's your name little one?" he flirted with her.
" Terai." She answered shyly.
"Are you going to that dance tonight?" he inquired.
"Maybe!" she said coyly.
They didn't say another word to each other for the rest of that afternoon, but each very aware of the other, every little stolen look syncopating their synchronized breaths,deep, sweet and heady as the vanilla spice that enveloped the two young lovers.
She watched him from the shore as he went out to catch dinner with his team mates until her brothers came to fetch her to go help with the dance preparations.
Next Episode : The Fateful Dance
