Читать книгу Reconnected - DH Steppler - Страница 5

Our state room was compact, cute, and comforting. My sister, my best friend claimed her place the minute she walked in. I went directly to the balcony where I’d planned to make my home for the entire trip. The balcony was a little different than the balconies we’d had before; it was large and partially covered by the balcony above. I found my small cooler which I’d carried aboard, made a place for it in the shade under the miniature table provided with the deck furniture, added the new itty-bitty CD player and a small collection of my favorite CDs. I took a quick glance around to view my work and felt a warmth that was not from the heat of the day. That sweet place would welcome me back every time I stepped out of the stateroom, exactly what I’d been waiting for and needing for quite some time.

Armed with the necessary map, an interior view of the ship cut in half, showing what was on each of the decks and most importantly it showed where the elevators were located, and a basic understanding of the subtle clues available for anyone paying attention, we left to explore. We knew, for instance, that the color of the carpet was different depending on what side of the ship you were on. Our side was all blue, a very important fact if you wanted to find your stateroom quickly.

My sister’s an extravert, the friendly type. What I mean is that there are no such things as strangers to her. Within 5 minutes time she will greet everyone in a room and ascertain all pertinent information about them. People talk to her willingly. She listens. She really addresses the good in people. Folks have told me that being around her is like a tonic. She’s so fresh and funny and self deprecating. She’s observant without trying to be. Little tidbits of information about people just seem to come at her like she’s a magnet.

Denice was a better companion than my husband ever was and I was glad that she was on the trip with me. If he were there I would be constantly concerned for his comfort. With Denice as a travel companion, I knew it would be a relaxing vacation.

Denice and I didn’t dictate to each other the things we wanted to do on board ship. We were not joined at the hip and she, like me, would go in her own direction without a moment’s hesitation even if I wasn’t interested.

The first day was an exception. We explored the ship together so that we would have the same vantage points for directional purposes. We decided to start on the Sports Deck and move our way down. Certain we’d be able to finish our tour before the muster bell, we hit each deck to make sure we understood the ships map and then stopped for a drink at the tropical bar on the Lido deck near the big swimming pool. There were a few young women in the pool already in their bikinis. We watched them some because they were really quite lovely.

Walking the Promenade deck had become one of my favorite things to do in the mornings. For some strange reason the smell and pull of the ocean was stronger there. We lingered longer than we should. Not hearing the muster call, we went to get a bite to eat in the Horizon dinning room. We sat there enjoying our surroundings and watching other travelers.

“What happened to the muster bell?” Denice asked without really needing an answer. She knew I hadn’t heard the call or I’d have said something.

We headed back to the stateroom after grabbing a couple of over-sized cookies to take with us for later. The cookies were gone before we even got to the Aloha deck. Denice just grinned and shrugged.

“I’m surprised that you haven’t invited anyone back to our room yet.” I mentioned to her.

“Give me time, would ya, we’ve only been on board for a few hours.” She replied.

Back in the room we found the cruise ‘newsletter’ waiting for us. We sat on our respective beds and read about the activities available. Denice took her highlighter and marked the activities that she was interested in and I did the same. Then we compared the newsletters to see if our interests were the same. Denice was disappointed because I only had one activity marked and it didn’t match any of her preferences.

She said that her first event was coming up in about an hour. She planned on taking the ‘line dance’ class. She probably chose line dance because I used to line dance a lot but, after a few years I got depressed that I didn’t have a partner and quit going. Don’t get me wrong, I have my own unique style that people enjoy so I got my share of what I called ‘pity dance requests’ when our group had parties. It was nice for awhile.

Denice said her intent was to relearn the ‘Tush-Push’ that I taught her a number of years ago.

“I’m going to want a demonstration when you get back.” I told her.

We sat together just talking about anything that popped in our heads for the next hour and then she took off with a promise to see me in 2 hours. I reached for my beach towel and headed for the balcony. I stood at the rail taking in the wide expanse of the Pacific Ocean, appreciating the wind from the ship’s cruising speed of 19 knots; the sun would be setting in a few hours. ‘Wow, it always amazes me.’ It is, in my estimation, the most perfect place to be.

The sun was warm, maybe too warm for me. I needed more sun screen or to get in the shade. Soon I was comfortable on one of the lounge chairs with Michael Creighton’s words propped up on my knees. I really wasn’t ready to take the surrounding beauty for granted and found that the book held no interest for me.

I listened to my new CD – “Crazy Love.” I couldn’t read while listening to “Cry Me a River.” That voice was lovely, smooth and inviting. As usual I began to sing along. Good for me, relaxing for me, soul feeding for me; but, I was certain that others shouldn’t listen. I was always pitchy and had to turn the CD player up very loud in order to match the right tune with the singer.

“Now you say you’re lonely, you cried the whole night through. Well you can cry me a river; I cried a river over you.”

I was sounding unbelievably good at that volume. Actually believing that the expanse of the ocean would carry away the excess sound, my voice increased a couple of decibels trying to get the tune right. I sang the entire song with the joy I felt. Before the next tune I sat back to see if folks were yelling at me to shut up. Not the case, so I continued to sing my heart out.

When the CD was finished, I stretched and made my way to the rail. As I stretched, I saw a dark structure far out in the ocean, kind of sitting on the horizon line. I wondered what it was and how long would it take for the ship to reach it. I decided to sit out there until we reached the black monolith, well at least until dinner time. We had a late seating for dinner – 8 o’clock.

The phone rang and my sister was on the other end telling me that she was going to dinner with a group of people she met line dancing. Great, I thought, I’d call room service and not bother to go out at all. It was pretty difficult to tear myself away from the balcony even for a little while. I made the first of many calls to room service and placed my dinner order. Going for my book again; again, it had no draw for me. Another CD perhaps?

Los Lonely Boys was my next pick. Parts of the songs were in Spanish; I was embarrassed about my Spanish pronunciation, even in song, but that didn’t stop me from joining the group when I did know the words.

When dinner came, I tipped the waiter after he set up the meal on the balcony. Before he left I asked him about the black thing on the horizon. He shrugged as though he didn’t understand me. I smiled politely and looked at the food. He left without giving me any enlightening information about the dark in the distance. Oh well the mystery would be solved soon enough…patience.

As I took in the yummy food, I could hear others out enjoying their balcony experience, too.

I interrupted the Los Lonely Boys music and put another CD in the player and forced myself to just listen in order not to sing with my mouth full. I lowered the volume in deference to those around me within ear shot. I heard a voice from the balcony next to mine, I think, because the voice sounded pretty close.

“Crank it back up if you don’t mind.”

I didn’t look; I just turned it back up, glad that others might like hearing it, too. I finished the prime rib and put a small dent in the baked potato. After a few bites I was satisfied and started in on the jello. My sister was surprised and befuddled that with all of the rich and yummy desserts available I nearly always preferred jello. Jello feels like a good way to cleanse my pallet. I had ordered pasta and a small salad but they remained untouched.

After the table was cleared, the dirty dishes were left on a tray in the hall, keeping the uneaten pasta and salad just incase my sister was interested later. With everything neat again, I could focus on the horizon to see that the black was much closer but I still couldn’t figure out what it was precisely, or otherwise.

Fifteen minutes at the rail standing like a statue made me thirsty. Time to toast the day and the trip – I poured myself two fingers of scotch and added 3 cubes of ice. I held the glass high as I walked back to the rail to toast the ocean, my balcony, and the trip.

“Cheers, thanks a lot, eh.” The instant burn from the scotch was expected and after the first sip, I waited for the second burn, I wasn’t disappointed.

“That’s good stuff.” I heard myself say right out loud.

Next was my after dinner ‘bowl.’ I went through the little ritual of grinding the buds in my ‘Mendo Mulcher’ and packing a small pipe with the fluffy grindings. I sat quietly for a couple of minutes then looked around at other balconies to ascertain if I had unwanted company. All was quiet so I decided to spark it up.

Just at that moment a gust of wind hit me. It was hard and kind of wet and stingy. As my focus was entirely on lighting the pipe, I just cupped my hands and moved back into the alee of the balcony for protection. Then I took a huge hit off the pipe.

It was time for more music. I switched out the CD that was in the player with a Paul Gross compilation called “Two Houses.” It took me a very long time to acquire that CD. That was another Canadian. Paul doesn’t have the greatest voice in the world but I love the songs he’s written, full of humor and passion – a great combination.

I heard that same voice again. “Ah, maybe you could share?”

I froze and then I said “ok, sure” and walked to the side of my balcony and handed my pipe and lighter through the crack in the partition between the two balconies to the voice on the other side without even seeing who it was. – True evidence of my weirdness.

I heard the lighter ignite and a draw on the pipe and then a bit of coughing. Through the crack the pipe and lighter appeared; I took my turn and sent the pipe back through the crack. A repeat of before: lighter ignites; the pulled in breath; then coughing; then it was my turn again. The process continued until we had completely dusted the bowl.

“More?” I asked.

“I’m good. Thank you.” Came the same voice.

I went back to pay more attention to my scotch. While I was sipping and enjoying my high I cleaned up the location again – tucking things back into the little cooler.

I couldn’t believe that it had gotten dark already. Yeah, it was suddenly dark. I heard a loud click, like a dead bolt. I merely thought that my neighbor had left his balcony and turned the lock on his sliding glass door.

“What the…” my neighbor’s voice again. No he hadn’t left the balcony. So, what was that loud click?

You can imagine, I’m stoned and trying to figure out this great mystery, when suddenly I’m standing in the dark, the darkest of dark. The blackness was so complete it was as though the world had turned off all of the lights everywhere including the stars.

It’s odd that I didn’t panic. I closed my eyes because I could no longer use them to see.

Using my one hand and all my other senses as eyes, I felt my way to the sliding glass door and pulled on it to get in. It didn’t budge. It was locked. I pulled on it a few times feeling confused, no the door was definitely locked. Oh, that was the loud click that I’d heard.

About then panic was available to me but I was too stoned to think of freaking out. Confused, I just sank down into the chair closest to the door on my neighbor’s side. I still had my drink in my hand so I continued to enjoy the scotch and its burn in the darkness while I figured out what was happening. ‘Where the hell did I put that lighter’? My eyes worked best for my sense of sight and I needed a little bit of light to help my eyes see.

OK, now I’m stoned and in the dark and I’m asking myself questions I’m pretty sure I couldn’t answer. Another sip of the Glenfiddich, burn, and then burn again. ‘Where did I put that lighter’?

At first I didn’t realize that it was raining but the rain became more and more insistent, until it was pouring down on me like a torrent. The rain was cold and stinging. I was under the cover of the balcony above me but the rain came at me anyway like I was the target.

As a giant flash of lightning bolted across the sky I saw the narrow door that separated my balcony from my neighbor’s open slightly.

Right then, I was glad that my sister wasn’t there for she would be scared shitless!

A scary scenario went through my head that my sister would think of as fast as the lightning had flashed: ‘You just shared your bowl with a pot-smoking killer and now he’s taking advantage of the darkness to do his dirty deeds.’

“Hi, I’m Helen. Who are you?” The words came out sounding like they were someone else’s voice, a little too high pitched. I stood up and took a couple of steps away from pure survival instinct.

Another flash of lightning helped me see someone there, now on my side of the balcony. “Hello?” I tried again, still not hearing my true voice.

“What the..?” That same voice and I recognized that the stranger was trying to open the sliding door to my stateroom.

“It’s locked.” I volunteered. I got my true voice back and felt pretty good about it.

“I don’t know what all this means but I’m glad to offer you a drink of my scotch if you’d like.”

I reached the glass out into the darkness in the direction of the stranger’s voice but just at that moment a wind, a forceful wind took the glass out of my hand and sent me whirling and flying into the sliding glass door with a very loud thud.

Unfortunately for the “same voice” person, he was flung into the window as well. We hit with such force that both of us were sitting on the floor of the balcony at the base of the window. Actually I assumed we were both sitting, I couldn’t see a thing.

“Well, this is different.” I said, mostly to myself and I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I felt the crash into the window – the window didn’t break and I was hoping that I didn’t either. Plus, I was getting an instant replay in my head of something that I couldn’t see in the first place. You know the visual. It was funny.

Next to me, I could feel the arm of the stranger-voice-neighbor bearing down on me.

“Just a minute,” I said, as I could feel his weight pushing me down onto the deck.

“Come on, you’re heavy. Move over.”

I encouraged in a voice that was kind of whiney yet sisterly.

No response. Oh, my god!

“Are you ok? Hold on, hold on, and let me get you.”

I twisted my body around and grabbed what should have been his shoulder with my left hand which gave me enough wriggle room to worm my way out from under him. I gently lowered him to the deck and blocked the rain from getting to his face.

“Damn it, where did I put that lighter?”

I lost my fabulous high and had to do some deep breathing to gain control of myself.

Putting my hands on his head I explored for any damage. In the very middle of the back of his head was a large bump that felt as though it were still swelling. ‘I’ll get some ice from the cooler for that’, I thought. But I didn’t stop exploring his body: down his neck to his shoulders and arms; down his front torso (ok, yes this felt a bit unnecessary because he hit the window and possibly the metal jam from behind, but you never know) feeling for any open wounds and bleeding or any protrusions; skipping the groin (wouldn’t you, at first?) I explored down each of his hips and thighs; reaching under him to access his backside; continuing down the inside of each of his legs and back again to explore the outside of his legs. I felt something in his pocket that would prove interesting. I took the liberty to reach my hand into his pocket and retrieved my lighter. ‘He’s probably a nice guy but he was also a lighter thief’, I thought.

Unable to get the lighter to ignite I slipped it into my pocket and moved on my knees to the cooler for some ice. I made an ice pack using a sandwich baggy wrapped in my beach towel. ‘Oh yeah, that’s me - Nurse MacGyver’.

As an after thought, I put my head on his chest to hear his heart beat. It hadn’t occurred to me that he might be dead until that moment. My CPR instructor would instantly recall my certification. The rain was still loud and I had to cup my hand over my other ear so that I could hear his heart beat. Absolute joy surged through me when I caught the sound of his beating heart. Thank you God, I get to keep my certificate.

Placing a barricade of lounge chairs between us and the falling rain took some doing in the dark but offered some relief and I was grateful for it. I sat there, huddled up with his head on my lap; it give him warmth and it gave me some in return. For what seemed like a very long time, I held the ice compress to the back of his head. I had my hand over his chest to feel his heart and to offer him more comfort and warmth.

As I sat there I thought about what it meant that there were no lights on the ship. Ok I got a bit worried that other ships wouldn’t see us in the darkness and plow into us. I thought of aliens and the darkness. I thought about the Bermuda Triangle; maybe the Pacific had its equivalent.

I heard something in the distance and focused to make it clear.

“I’m going to ride forever. You can’t keep horsemen in a cage… should the angels call.”

The CD player was still going. Remarkably, I found myself singing along. Weirdness.

When the CD player stopped, I sat there cradling the voice, stranger, neighbor in my lap. Gently stroking his temple and forehead and arms with my finger tips, I realized how very comforting it was to have that other live body next to me. Together we presented a force against that all consuming blackness.

Another bolt of lightning streaked across the sky and reminded me how much I needed more light than that. “Oh come on, shit or get off the pot. Will ya?” I whined out loud. Then the accompanying thunder clapped so loud that it sounded like a rumbling earth quake and I was the epicenter.

“That’s God trying to get your attention.”

The neighbor said, speaking up to me from my lap.

“I’m all ears.” I replied.

“Are you in any kind of shape to talk?” I gently probed.

“Maybe you could do a slow mental self assessment.”

“I can do that, with some help, if you don’t mind.” He came back.

“Ok, starting with the bump at the back of your head and going on from there, I’ll ask you to feel it and then report. Ready?”

“Yes,” he agreed.

“Do you feel pain in the back of your head? Explain.” I began.

“Actually, no I have no pain on my head, anywhere.”

“How about your neck,” I questioned further?

I felt him turn his head slowly from side to side in my lap.

“That feels alright?” He reported.

“I didn’t get a chance to examine your back, so focus there,” I continued.

There was more movement and twisting from him with no audible winces or moans, so I’m figuring that all was going pretty well.

“Feels like my back is ok.”

I heard him yawn, as he said it.

“Oh my god, you can’t go back to sleep. You may have a concussion and go into a coma.” I said with way too much drama in my voice.

“It’s the rain, rain makes me yawn. I’m awake.” He said.

“Are you very uncomfortable?” He asked.

“Don’t worry about me; you don’t have to move. It will be better if you stay put for a bit. Plus, where can you go?”

I gave him my best ‘brave soldier’ attitude even though I was very much in need of a good stretch. My muscles were cramped and uncomfortable.

Then it dawned on me to ask about his comfort. “How about you? Do you need anything; can I make you any more comfortable?”

“Actually this is fine, but if you were serious, that temple thing you were doing was really good.”

So we co-existed there in silent darkness while I gently stroked his temple and brushed his hair back with my finger tips.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

I chided him every few minutes and would ask him a question that he had to answer before I would leave him alone.

“So, were you trying to break into my stateroom back there?” My first question.

“I panicked for just a second.”

He came back at me a bit defensively.

I smiled to myself and resumed the temple rubbing action as we sank into a comfortable silence again. I made good use of my time as I planned my next question.

“How about another bowl?”

I asked when it seemed like I had waited long enough.

“I did bring it along for medicinal purposes as well. I’m feeling the need to be a bit more mellow, myself”

“I’m game, if I don’t have to move much.”

I impressed my self as the darkness didn’t offer me much of a challenge while I packed the bowl and resumed my position with stranger’s head on my lap. I remembered the lighter in my pocket.

“Oh darn, the lighter might not work.”

“No worries.” He said.

“I have one in my pocket.”

Crap, I’d stolen his lighter.

I cupped my hands and flicked the lighter. A tiny flame caught the shake and I got a hit. As is custom, I handed the whole operation over to him and the lighter barely ignited, while he did his part. I caught sight of his colorful clothes, just a glimpse before the light was gone. I heard him draw on the pipe and then his signature cough; it was all in my hands again. We got our fill of the smoke and set it aside, well the lighter stopped working.

“Don’t you have anymore questions?”

I guess I was pretty stoned because I couldn’t think of any but I tried.

“Wait, give me a minute and I’ll come up with one.”

He waited patiently while I thought.

“Do you take any medication that I should know about?”

That seemed appropriate.

The munchies would hit soon, light or no light. I began to calculate where my snacks were located and then got a mental picture.

“No I don’t take any medicine on a regular basis. I’m fine on that point.”

He answered my hard thought out question and seemed to pause for more from me.

“Oh.” I heard him whisper.

“I was thinking of non-medical questions.”

I felt his head turn in my lap and I thought of a non-medical question.

“Would you like a snack?”

“Thank you, but not just yet; any other questions?”

Frankly I was flummoxed. I didn’t know what I should be asking him. Finally I gave up the ghost.

“Please forgive me my lack of knowledge but I’m uncertain what I should be asking you; do you have any questions of me?”

I felt satisfied that that was a pretty good come-back and question to ask.

“Only about a hundred.”

His voice had humor in it.

“Ok, fire away.”

“What’s your name?” He said simply.

Wow, I thought, this guy must be hurt; I told him my name before he tried to break into my stateroom. I guess he forgot.

“Like I said before, my name is Helen.”

“Where are you from?” He continued. I answered immediately.

“I’m from California.”

“How old are you?”

“29.”

I came back like I always do when someone thinks they’re entitled to have that exact information. There was no way I could keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

Then we had a few minutes of silence and I mulled over his questions. It hit me that I hadn’t been paying attention. He was asking personal questions. What the hell was the matter with me that I didn’t ask any personal questions? I let another minute slip by before I made the proper amends.

Not wanting to exactly imitate his questions, I went in another direction.

“Are you traveling alone? Will there be people worried about you who are on board this ship?” I was thinking of emergency contact people.

“Alone. No one will be looking for me. How about you?” he answered.

“I haven’t given her much thought, but I bet that my sister is getting concerned about our separation during this storm. I’m not as concerned about her because I know that she’s not alone.”

“Where are you from?” I asked.

“Canada.”

He came back with a one word sentence.

I felt myself get more interested in that line of questioning. I love Canada – at least I love the western provinces of British Columbia, Alberta, the North West Territory, and the Yukon.

“Where in Canada are you from?”

“Vancouver, British Columbia.”

His answer peeked my interest even more.

“Canada is wonderful; at least what I’ve seen of it. I’ve taken ‘solitude’ trips through Alberta and farther north up to Yellow Knife.” I explained.

“Do you travel much?” I said as I was getting the hang of the personal question thing.

“More than most folks do.”

There was a quiet weariness to his voice and I tucked that observation away for another time.

“What made you choose this cruise? Why would you travel alone on a cruise like this?” I asked.

“I needed to get away by myself; it didn’t matter where.” His voice trailed off to a whisper.

“Oh.” I understood the need for alone time.

Silence took over again. It was comforting. We were wrapped in our own reverie as the quiet continued. Ten minutes of blank air can be intimidating for some folks but it didn’t bother either of us.

My arms were cold. The rain had actually stopped but a chilly wind could some how reach us behind our chair barricade. I focused my thoughts on how I could hold some of that chill at bay. What in the world could I use to protect us further? I explored the close surrounding area with my left hand and took a mental inventory: the cooler; the small table; the CD player; the wet beach towel. Moving the towel out of the way in order to continue feeling around, I touched another piece of fabric. I grabbed it and brought it to me for closer inspection. Another towel, I didn’t know I had two towels out there. I surveyed the entire towel with my fingers and discovered that there was only a very small part that was actually wet.

I then dragged the towel over my charge’s head, shoulders, arms and torso being careful not to touch him with the wet part. Then I tucked it in as much as I could.

“Nice.” He said as he pulled the towel tight into his body. He turned his whole body on his side and was now facing my stomach. He reached up with the edge of the towel and wrapped it over my right shoulder so that my hand and arm were tucked in with him. Yes that was nice.

With my hand on his chest, I shook him ever so lightly and reminded him not to fall asleep. As if to defy me, he drew his knees up to his chest so that the towel covered him completely and snuggled in closer to me. I was instantly glad for a smidgen more warmth.

A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky followed by another immediately, very scary in the thick all consuming darkness. The thunder hit like it was right on top of us. I tucked my head down and hugged the bundle in my lap as I felt him hug back fiercely. The sound was so loud I was worried that my ears could be damaged.

We remained in that tucked in hugging position until my arms were truly weary, I had to relax. Releasing my clutching hold on him felt like a small betrayal. He relaxed, too.

The lightning continued to streak and the thunder continued to howl and rumble with unbelievable sound and force. We clung to each other at each new assault. We seemed to be waiting for something final, a sound or an action that would take the ship and, of course, our tiny existence along with it.

As abruptly as it started, the noise and light show ended. The quiet didn’t fool us, we waited for more. We waited tensely for more than a dozen minutes before either one loosened our grip and relaxed out of our two person ball. Still not opening my eyes, I waited even longer.

As the time passed and the quiet continued, I opened my eyes to test the darkness. The blackness was not all together black; there were then shades of lighter black and even gray.

I’d lost all sense of time; I didn’t know how many hours had actually passed and didn’t know if the night was still with us or if it was morning with the storm clouds around us.

My high was gone and I needed to use the bathroom very soon or wish for more rain.

There were only shadows yet available and I couldn’t see clearly enough to make out the details of anything.

Waiting with my eyes closed was about all I could do. The need for sleep was tugging at my chronically dry eyes and I saw no reason to have them open if I couldn’t use them to see.

Slumber took me while I sat there with my back to the slider and that stranger huddled in my lap.

Day Two

I didn’t know how long I slept but my eyes flew open to the sound of a familiar “CLICK.” I looked down to see the stranger looking at me with a sweet smile. I marveled that we were both alive.

“Looks like there has been some progress; the slider just unlocked.” He reported like I hadn’t heard it.

I was stunned as I looked into his face, a familiar face, a famous face, a beautiful but tired looking face. It was Michael the Canadian singer who’s CD I had in the CD player earlier. I really wished I’d known that information hours before. Why didn’t I ask him his name?

“Oh, well I’ll be…”

He pulled himself to a sitting position. I felt the loss of his ultra close proximity egregiously.

“I know you from somewhere.” He said with a puzzled look on his face.

“We have met before. But I’d be surprised if you remembered.” I chided.

“I was one of thousands at your concert in Sacramento last year. We met because your van gave me a ride back to my hotel after the show was over. I was the only one standing in the parking lot waiting for my shuttle back to the Embassy Suites.”

He lifted my hand to his face and placed my fingers on his cheek and then looked at my hand like it brought back a flood of memories.

“I remember that night.” He said.

“Your hands struck me as special then as they do now. Your nails are pretty and your hands are soft.” He said it as though it was a memory and a realization at the same time.

The only contact we had on that previous night was a hand shake when I’d thanked him and said good night. I’d thanked him for the great concert and the unexpected ride and for the good time in general.

“After last night, I see there’s more to you than your pretty hands.”

We were still hunkered down behind our make-shift barricaded. I didn’t want to move because the call of nature was so loud it might just betray me before I could get to the bathroom.

We both stood up slowly. I saw him wince and touch the back of his head. I reached behind him to slide open my stateroom door, excused myself, and disappeared inside.