Milk(2)

            I noted the spot, and we went on.

            The water level had now fallen so low that you could see lugworm burrows on the sand. In certain spots the water looked like nothing more than dark stains.

            We reached the breeding ground, cordoned off with orange tape, before we saw the first seal. It lay with its hind flippers in the air and its head on the sand.

            We continued along the demarcation, and soon a small group of seals followed us in the water. At the end of the breeding ground, I halted the tractor and the young couple jumped from the wagon. I climbed out and watched them head toward the water’s edge. The seals kept their distance, but the youngest of them swam in circles toward the shore: suddenly it appeared just fifteen feet from land. The woman squatted down and extended her hand.

            For a moment the seal stood still, water dripping from its white whiskers and onto its spotted coat. Then it thrust itself sideways and swam off in a half-circle. The man eased the camera from the woman and stood poised for the next time the seal turned up.

            The other seals grew more courageous and swam toward the shore. A pair raised their heads right near the beach; the man photographed them, and the woman squatted and talked to them.

            After a little while the seals retreated, and the young couple watched them go. The woman had risen and was now resting her head on his shoulder. Then they turned and walked up to me.

            The woman smiled.

            —How much time is there? the man asked.

            I looked across the water.

            —A little less than an hour, I said.

            They walked back to the water’s edge. They followed it a ways and then angled up over the sandbank. I seated myself in the tractor cab to eat from my lunch box, and when I looked for them again they were gone.

            I watched for them now and again.

            After an hour, I still couldn’t see them. Wind had begun to blow from the west, and because the tide could change at any moment, I started the tractor and began driving slowly forward.

            I followed their footprints until I reached the place where they’d gone over the sandbank. Then I honked the tractor’s horn.

            I looked back the way I’d come. Already water was filling in the wheel tracks.

            I honked the horn a few times.

            I climbed from the tractor and called after them.

            —Hello, I yelled. I didn’t know their names.

            After fifteen minutes, I caught a glimpse of two tiny figures walking toward me from far away.

            I drove to meet them, and as I drew the tractor up beside them, they smiled as if nothing was wrong. I told them they were late.

            —It’s so easy to forget about time out here, the man said, helping the woman up on the wagon. They sat close to each other on the left side. Now the water was seriously beginning to rise, and I drove back as fast as I could. Water sprayed from the tractor’s rear wheels, and the young couple scooted toward the center of the wagon. In the mirror I could see them huddled together. When we were only halfway in, we drove through a foot of water. When the island became visible, the water had risen almost two feet.

            I gripped the steering wheel hard and felt the sweat form on my stomach.

            Only when we arrived on the dike did I have time to glance in the mirror again. The man and woman sat in the same position. It didn’t look as though they were talking. They sat as if they were hypnotized and stared in the same direction, toward the sea.

            When we pulled up in front of the inn, it had begun to rain again. The man handed me the agreed-upon payment, and they hurried in. That’s when I noticed sand on the woman’s rain jacket.