Hammock Summer in Split – Part 2: The Wind Changes

The hammock was surprisingly comfortable. Ana lay in it on the last warm night of September, the pine needles rustling overhead, the sea whispering softly against the promenade stones. The wind came off the water in long, cool breaths, and it did, as Luka had promised, tell her when it was about to change.

She heard Luka's footsteps on the boards before she saw him.

"You're in my hammock," he said.

"It's your hammock on your pine trees on a public promenade," said Ana. "I'm just testing the quality."

"And?"

"It's very good. I can see why you prefer it to a bed."

Luka sat on the low wall beside her, his feet bare, his shirt open at the collar. The harbour lights rippled gold across the water, and the boats rocked gently at their moorings.

"The wind's changing tonight," he said.

"I know. I can hear it."

"Then tomorrow we'll go to Vis, if you want. The last sail of the season."

Ana turned in the hammock, the canvas creaking. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

"What happens when the season ends? You'll drive the Mirna back to the company yard, and the manager will sack you for being too honest with the guests. And then what?"

Luka was quiet. He looked at the water, the lights, the dark bulk of the island in the distance.

"Then I'll find another boat," he said. "Or I'll stay here, and build a small house on the hill, with a garden and no bedroom with a view. Probably the second one. I'm tired of being the one who leaves."

"Would you like me to stay?" asked Ana softly.

Luka turned to her. His face in the lamplight was open and surprisingly uncertain.

"Yes," he said. "But I'd like to ask you something back."

"Anything."

"Would you help me build the house? Not as a favour. As the one who knows the wind, and who would like a view of the sea from the kitchen window, and wants to see how it changes in the morning."

Ana laughed, quiet and bright. "Yes," she said. "But only if you let me choose the colour of the shutters, and promise to stop sleeping in the hammock once the walls are up."

"I'll sleep in the hammock on the porch," said Luka. "I'm very attached to it."

"Then I'll sleep in it with you," said Ana, and sat up in the hammock, which swayed alarmingly.

Luka caught her arm, laughing, and steadied them both. Then he was close, his hand warm on her wrist, his face very near hers in the dim light.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, very softly. "Here, on the promenade, with the pines and the sea listening?"

"Yes," said Ana. "And if I say stop, we'll go and sleep on the Mirna, and tell the wind to be quiet."

"Good," said Luka, and leaned in.

He kissed her slowly, the taste of salt and wine and the cool evening air between them. His hand slid to the back of her neck, steady and sure, and she held on to his shirt, the hammock swaying gently under them both. Somewhere behind them, the wind changed, soft and steady, from the south to the west, exactly as he had promised.

When they parted, both of them were smiling.

"Green?" he asked.

"Green," said Ana. "Very green. Now tell me which shutters you want, Luka, because I've already picked the colour, and you're not going to like it."

"I'll like it," said Luka. "Anything you pick, I'll like."

"That's a very dangerous thing to say to a woman in a hammock," said Ana, laughing, and they sat together in the warm dark, listening to the sea and the wind, until the first light of morning turned the harbour to silver.