“Aren’t we here in Spain? Isn’t Catalonia in Spain?”
Now Dídac flared up:
“Where are you sitting, Kim? What do you see?”
“You mean the defenses…?”
“I mean these defenses. We lost the war, what you call the Spanish Civil War. But for us it was also a defense of Catalonia, and hopefully it’s right to exist, separate from Spain, although we lost that even before we lost the war. Both sides wanted to stop Catalonia existing in the end. We then had a forty-year dictatorship, before ending up in this ‘constitutional monarchy’, with Catalonia still subject to Spain. But we’ve been independent before and may be so again.”
“OK, forgive me, I’m ignorant of a lot of Spanish—and Catalan—history. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’ve been thinking even more about what you said in the press conference. It was very moving but italso placed a certain… responsibility on me… I mean I don’t want to hurt you.”
“So Tuesday’s kiss was part of your decision finally not to replace me with Isard Muntaner? Or was it perhaps just a sweet way of saying goodbye? I’m confused.”
“Isard Muntaner? What’s he got to do with all this?”
“You saw him right after the press conference.”
“Yes, about something else, another matter.”
“About what?”
“To tell you the truth, I can’t really remember. He has some sort of organization, or alliance. He’s looking for sponsors and ambassadors. I was distracted, to be honest, thinking… about… someone else.”
“Who?”
“One of my actors… who had just confessed this terribly moving account about deciding to become an actor. The same actor I later ended up stupidly kissing, in a totally unprofessional way.”
“Golly, you sure know how to beat yourself up over a kiss. It was just a kiss. But am I in or out of your production?”
“In, of course! Your work is brilliant, Dídac. You know I think so. I thought you saw that this week…”
“With the kiss?”
“No! Not with the kiss, with your work, the way we worked together… both before and after. It’s been beautiful, so deep. The kiss… I… would do it again…”
“If it weren’t for the production.”
“Damn the production!” Kim growled.
He turned to Dídac, wanting to explain himself better, but the actor was gazing out at the scene before them. Without either of them noticing, the moon, which had been rising in the evening sky, now floatedsilver over the sea. Dídac’s cheek bones were thrown into profile by the silver light. Kim raised a tentative hand to his face. His fingers caressed the silken bristle of the actor’s seven-day growth, tracing his strong profile, exploring the contour of his firm chin and soft lips. Dídac did not react, neither pulling away nor leaning in. Finally he turned and looked at Kim.
“We shouldn’t…” Dídac began.
But his words trailed off as their faces came together. This time when they kissed, it was slow and deliberate. Leaning in to each other, their lips met sensuously, exploring the soft contact for which they’d both been yearning. Soon, Kim’s tongue pushed forward in exploration, to be met by Dídac’s. Their tongues engaged in a sensual slow dance, before venturing deeper into each other’s mouths, claiming that moist warm space. It was a probing exploration of two primeval forces, long dormant and now awakened, ravenous for the sustenance—passion—that each offered, striving to experience this new sensation. Dídac broke off, murmuring hoarsely:
“You still have to plan tomorrow’s rehearsal…”
“I’ll wing it.”
And Kim’s arms came around Dídac, embracing him so lightly, almost as if he were afraid the other might vanish in the air, before pressing his body more insistently against the younger actor’s, hugging him so fiercely they seemed to forget where they were. Dídac put out an arm to steady them, as they were in danger of toppling from their perch into the depths below.
“Careful,” he breathed, “or neither of us will make it to rehearsal in the morning.”
But Kim wasn’t listening. He passed his arm around Dídac’s torso, supporting the young man while pulling him closer in toward him,wanting him to rest his head on Kim’s shoulder. The younger man let himself be manipulated stiffly, as if not quite willing to trust Kim’s motives. Above them the full moon shone down on the Mediterranean, throwing out a trail directly from their hearts straight to the horizon.
Around them couples and groups were finishing their supplies, packing up, and meandering down from the escarpment into the city of Barcelona. Soon they were left almost alone atop the gun emplacement. Dídac disentangled himself from Kim’s grasp and scrambled to his feet. The movement brought Kim back to his senses and he cursed himself for losing control yet again.
“Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have done that… again. I don’t know what…” But he caught Dídac’s slightly reluctant mood. “Is there anywhere you have to, or want to be?”
