Ernest Hemingway

THE GARDEN OF EDEN
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Chapter Five

THE TIDE WAS FAR OUT when David Bourne woke and the sun was bright on the beach and the sea was a dark blue. The hills showed green and new washed and the clouds had gone from the mountains. Catherine was still sleeping and he looked at her and watched her regular breathing and the sun on her face and thought, how strange that the sun on her eyes should not wake her.

After he had taken a shower and brushed his teeth and shaved, he was hungry for breakfast but he pulled on a pair of shorts and a sweater and found his notebook and pencils and the sharpener and sat at the table by the window that looked out over the estuary of the river to Spain. He started to write and he forgot about Catherine and what he saw from the window and the writing went by itself as it did with him when he was lucky. He wrote it exactly and the sinister part only showed as the light feathering of a smooth swell on a calm day marking the reef beneath.

When he had worked for a time, he looked at Catherine, still sleeping, her lips smiling now and the rectangle of sunlight from the open window falling across the brown of her body and lighting her dark face and tawny head against the rumpled white of the sheet and the unused pillow. It's too late to get breakfast now, he thought. I'll leave a note and go down to the cafe and get a cafe creme and something. But while he was putting his work away Catherine woke and came over to him as he was closing the suitcase and put her arms around him and kissed him on the back of his neck and said, "I'm your lazy naked wife."

"What did you wake up for?"

"I don't know. But tell me where you're going and I'll be there in five minutes."

"I'm going to the cafe to get some breakfast."

"Go ahead and I'll join you. You worked didn't you?"

"Sure."

"Weren't you wonderful to after yesterday and everything. I'm so proud. Kiss me and look at us in the mirror on the bath room door."

He kissed her and they looked into the full length mirror.

"It's so nice not to feel overdressed," she said. "You be good and don't get in any trouble on your way to the cafe. Order me an oeuf au jambon too. Don't wait for me. I'm sorry I made you wait so long for breakfast."

At the cafe he found the morning paper and the Paris papers of the day before and had his coffee and milk and the Bayonne ham with a big beautifully fresh egg that he ground coarse pepper over sparsely and spread a little mustard on before he broke the yolk. When Catherine had not come and her egg was in danger of getting cold he ate it too, swabbing the flat dish clean with a piece of the fresh baked bread.

"Here comes Madame," the waiter said. "I'll bring another plat for her."

She had put on a skirt and cashmere sweater and pearls and the toweled her head but combed it damp and straight and wet and the tawny color of her hair did not show to make the contrast with her incredibly darkened face.

"It's such a beautiful day," she said. "I'm sorry to be late."

(...)

(......)