The little fountain pond flashes fish. We’ve brought one pora. I crumb the dry biscuit and the fish jump at it. The evening sun glints on the water. I fill my fist in my father’s right palm and look up at him. Clock? Clock. The second hand marches to a parade. Tick. Click. Pause. Tick. My father carries me high enough to see the big white face with its three needles. When the thin one reaches 12, it chimes. One loud delightful Tanngg! Its 4:30.
We walk to the first tower of the plant. There’s a mountain of sulphur nuggets. I get to pick one and slip it into my father’s pocket. We make our way through the fertilizer factory. My father is on his evening rounds. A rusty gate lets us cross over to the beach. With much fanfare my father retrieves the sulphur nugget, strikes a match and we watch a green flame dance. My toes dig into the moist sand. I point at a distant wave touching the shore and ask my father….There! Did you see that jelly fish? And we laugh. It was our thing.
watching waves whisper silly sweet nothings before sands run out of time