Travel = Freedom

As the sun sets over the waves, he keeps watch. He paces to the smooth and steady sequence of the waves crashing into the shore. Beach goers are no more. They have retired their sunburns and saunter to the bar. Laughter echoes, but he does not join; no, he continues to keep watch. Couples with hands joined, dangling in a dancing motion walk past him. They smile, clink glasses and share a kiss, as he keeps watch. As they walk home, bellies full of lobster and wine, they nod and smile which he returns as he continues to pace the shore. Dinner ends and the restaurant transforms. Disco lights flash and music booms. The pathway to the restaurant turned disco hears the pitter-patter of girls giggling, heels clicking and boys laughing boisterously. They head to the dance floor and he keeps watch. At his designated time, he paces the beach and passes those headed to the disco. He halts, however, when he sees two girls. Smiling quietly with pursed lips and eyes that twinkle, he stops to say, "hello." The girls promise to visit him before his shift ends and then continue their walk across the beach. The disco has emptied; seated on a chair, slouched with one arm propped to keep his head up, he waits for the girls. Rain empties from the sky like buckets being forcefully poured. The two girls are not discouraged and run through the rain. He spots them and jumps up from his seat and gestures to two chairs. The conversation flows, steady and calm, but when he tells them he had to leave school and take this job after his father left, his foot begins a fast tap. Keeping watch, they learn provides for his mother and three siblings. Keeping watch, they learn only pays 20 Cuban pesos a week. His dreams of studying dead, he looks forward to his "happy birthday Alexander" where he will not keep watch and take his turn on the dance floor. He watches the girls leave for their beds, their figures decreasing in the distance, until he is left staring at the waves, keeping watch.