The Hitchhiker in Panama (Love and Wanderlust Book 1)

by Liz Alden

  Eivind gave me a boyish grin. “See, I have a good aim, yes?”

  I laughed. “Yes, okay. I trust you.”

  He nodded decisively and climbed back aboard. “Take the line over the lifelines, on the outside—yes, good—and pull the line under.”

  I squatted on the deck next to the cleat. “Lifelines?” I asked, placing my hand on the rail. Unlike Silver Lining’s, this rail was soft under my fingertips.

  “Yes. They will save your life. They are to keep you from going overboard.”

  I inspected the lifelines skeptically, which were made of a thin rope with a fine texture. “They don’t look very strong.”

  Eivind crouched beside me. “They are a special material called Dyneema. The boat has”—he waved his arm to encompass all of Eik—“so much Dyneema. It is super strong and light. That is why we use it. Trust me.”

  “Okay, so what do I do with the rope?”

  “Line. It is called a line.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “A line is cut a specific length; a rope is not.”

  “But aren’t all ropes cut to a specific length? There’s not a rope somewhere out there with infinite length.”

  Eivind rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “Yes, but the line, it has a job. It is cut to do something specifically. Like, this line is for a dock line. We use it to tie our boat to the dock. You see?”

  “I think so. So, do you have any rope on board?”

  Eivind chuckled. “No, I think not. It is all lines.”

  “Okay, so what do I do with the line?”

  “With the line”—Eivind nudged me playfully—“we take it around the base of the cleat. One whole trip around and you bring the line like this . . .”

  Eivind demonstrated a figure-eight shape around the two arms of the cleat. “To lock it, you make a loop and twist.” He tucked the loose end of the line under one of the previous wraps. Eivind tugged it and then stood up, reaching over the lifeline to pull hard on the newly tied-off line. “That is how you cleat a line.”

  We undid and redid the line over and over again until I was confident, Eivind guiding my hands when I got confused, or watching me carefully to make sure I understood.

  “When we go through the canal, there will be people on the walls with a thing called a monkey’s fist. The monkey’s fist has a small line attached, so they throw this monkey’s fist at you. It usually will hit the deck and that is okay. They try not to hit the windows. You grab it and pull the small line up. This small line, you tie to our line, and they will pull our line up onto the wharf. Understand?”

  I nodded, feeling heavier with the responsibility. I had to catch the monkey’s fist or make sure it didn’t hit the windows and then make the transfer of the line. “Okay.”

  “Okay. When the canal is emptying the water, the boat goes down and you have to loosen the line.” Eivind demonstrated this by taking most, but not all, of the wraps off the cleat. “Hold this.”

  I grabbed the line while Eivind jumped back down to the dock. He wrapped a hand around the line, just above the cleat, and pulled. I walked my hands down the line, letting it out.

  “Good. Not too much, you still need”—Eivind used one fist to mime pulling—“tension. I will loosen the line, like when the boat will be raised in the canal.”

  I gradually pulled the line in until it was tight with the cleat on the dock. I bent over to finish the figure eights and the lock on the cleat.

  “Very good. So, Jonas is the captain, and he will be at the helm. If he tells you to cleat the line off, you cleat the line off, no matter what. Okay?”

  “Okay, cool.” I couldn’t help grinning. I’d learned so much already. Eivind climbed back on board.

  “What else do you want to learn?”

  “I’m sure you have better things to do than teach me about boats.”

  Eivind’s eyes held mine and he leaned into me. “No. I have nothing I want to do more than teach you about boats.”

  We smiled at each other for a few moments until I snapped myself out of it.

  I looked around me. “Hmm . . . okay, let’s start with what I do know. This is the mast.” I put my hand up against the large metal column in the center of the boat. “And that thing’s the boom.” I pointed to the large horizontal metal thing sticking out from the mast. “Mainsail, shroud, jib?”

  “Genoa. That sail is a genoa; it is bigger than a jib.”

  “Okay. So which of these lines do you pull to unroll the genoa?”

  Eivind showed me where the lines for each sail ran, which line you pulled, which lines you released. I wasn’t going sailing, but Eivind kept up with it anyway, patiently explaining.

  I pointed to one thing. “What’s this?”

  “Hmm . . . a thingamabob?”

  I laughed. “How do you know that word?”

  “As a kid, Jonas obsessed over The Little Mermaid. Mum made us watch all the Disney movies in English for practice. In our house, we had thingamabobs and dinglehoppers when we were growing up. He always wanted to play Prince Eric with the neighbor girls who had red hair. We stayed friends with them for so long. I am pretty sure Jonas did not even like them, but they had red hair, so . . .” He shrugged.

  “And you? What did you want to play when you were little?”

  Eivind grinned. “I wanted to be a rock star.”

  “Were you in a band?”

  “Yes, but we were terrible.” Eivind sat down on the top of the main salon’s roof, stretching his legs out on the deck in front of him.

  “What did you play?” I sat down next to him and leaned back on my hands.

  “Guitar.”

  “That’s definitely the hottest instrument. I think you should play some guitar for me.”

  He laughed. “I do not have one here. How do you feel about a ukulele?”

  I scrunched up my nose. “A ukulele is cute, not sexy.”

  “Ah, so if I want to seduce you, I need to borrow a guitar.”

  I grinned. Eivind’s eyes scanned my face, dipping to look at my lips and then traveling back up to meet my eyes.

  I turned my face away. Closing my eyes, I sighed and tilted my head back. The sun heated my skin. “Unless I want a sunburn, we should wrap up out here.”

  Eivind laughed. “Then I know what time it is.” I checked my watch, which read 4:34 p.m. “Sundowners!”

  It was a little earlier than I typically started drinking, but I also knew a lot of people on the dock always had a beer in hand. Eivind led me back into the boat, where we found Jonas now sitting at the table with his laptop. Eivind reached into the fridge and grabbed a beer. “Jonas, øl?”

  “Ja.”

  Eivind tossed the beer at his brother. “Lila, would you like a stubby?” He grinned mischievously.

  I clapped my hands to my face in mock horror. “Oh no! I led you astray. This is not a stubby. This is a tinny. A stubby is a bottle; a tinny is a can.”

  Eivind laughed again and I was learning to love his smile. It came easily and often. Jonas was nice, but he was more reserved than Eivind.

  “I like tinny better. Stubby sounds like a stiffy.” Eivind pointed to his crotch to make sure his meaning was clear, and I burst out laughing. I even caught the corner of Jonas’s lip twitching up. Eivind pulled out two more beers. “Come on, let’s go up top and leave my brother to his work.”

  Eivind handed me my beer, grabbed a bag of chips, and climbed back up to the cockpit. He settled into a cushion, leaning his back against the wall, his foot on the bench, and his knee cocked up against the side. I sat next to him, crossed my legs, and popped my beer open.

  “You and your brother must be close,” I said. “To go sailing together for so long.”

  “Yes and no. We were not close before. But now we are best friends. And that was what we wanted. Why I came.”

  “The boat belongs to Jonas?”

  Eivind nodded. “He wanted to do this for a long time. And the timing was good for him with his wo
rk, so he bought the boat. Not many people would want to do this. He couldn’t find someone to go with him, so he asked me.” He shrugged. “It turned out to be a good decision. I am happy here. On Eik.”

  “What does Jonas do for work?”

  “He was an engineer, but he left that job to do technical writing. He works for a scientific journal, editing and proofreading the articles.”

  “And what about you?”

  Eivind reached over and pulled the bag of chips open, taking out a handful. “I do nothing. I am the loser brother.” He smirked at me.

  I reached my hand into the bag and grabbed a big chip. I pointed it at him. “I don’t believe that.”

  “I went to university and graduated with a degree in chemistry, to be in science like my big brother. But instead I ended up working in a restaurant. So that is what I do.”

  I shrugged and took another chip. “After uni I worked in a call center for a few months, as a temp job, even though I have a degree in engineering. I saved up money to travel. Those jobs may be things we do now or things we do forever. I don’t think my life will be all about what I do for a job, though.”

  Eivind winked at me. “So smart.”

  “The question is, what do you want to do?”

  Eivind let his head loll back and he blinked up at the sky for a few minutes. “I am not sure.”

  “Really? No big dreams?” My brain had a hard time wrapping itself around the idea that someone my age wouldn’t know what they wanted to do with their lives.

  He laughed. “I am living in my brother’s dream.”

  “Okay, well, do you like it?”

  “I do. There are always many projects to do on the boat, and I get to work with my hands a lot more. All the systems are interesting to me, but the engine especially. We have lots of books, and do not tell Jonas, but if something were to go wrong . . .” He shrugged and grinned. “I might enjoy the challenge.”

  “That’s kind of the hands-on side of engineering, yeah?” I nudged him. “I’ve got the degree, but you probably know more about engines than I do.”

  “What is your plan with your degree?” He leaned in closer to me.

  “When I’m done with my trip, I’ll be interviewing for jobs in engineering on the east coast—Sydney or Brisbane, probably. In a few years, I should be able to buy a house, and then, of course, have a family.”

  “That is . . . a lot of plans.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed wistfully. “Sounds like you might like to be a tradie.”

  “What is a tradie?”

  “An electrician or a mechanic or a plumber. Something like that. Or, I suppose, there are equivalents for marine jobs.”

  Eivind looked thoughtful. “I am learning a lot. Maybe so.” He took a sip of his beer. “So, you have big plans. Why are you not doing those things now? Why pause your dreams to fly halfway around the world?”

  “I guess . . .” I faltered. “I guess anyone can go on a vacation to an exotic destination, but what do they really get out of it? I wanted to experience something different, and prove that I could do something like this on my own.” I huffed a laugh. “My mum is overprotective to a fault, and I just didn’t want to be seen as sheltered or spoiled anymore.”

  “Someone said that?”

  I bit my lip, nodded, and shrugged all at once, embarrassed.

  Eivind was silent for a moment, and then he tipped his beer toward mine. “To life-changing adventures.”

  I tapped my tinny against his and took a sip.

  “Now, let me tell you more about our dear captain . . .”

  Eivind told me about growing up in Norway, the escapades that he and Jonas got into. I was surprised to learn Eivind and Jonas were ten years apart; Jonas looked a bit younger than he was and Eivind looked a bit older. Jonas’s longer hair made him look unkempt, and Eivind’s close-cropped hair gave him an air of maturity.

  “Jonas was already older and more mature, but when our father left, he really grew up too fast. This is his playtime now. He was too busy helping our mum.”

  I cocked my head. “He does seem like a father figure to you. Keeping you in line,” I teased. “How did this whole thing come about anyway?” I gestured to the boat.

  “Ah.” Eivind sat back. “Jonas is divorced. And after the divorce, he did that guy thing . . . you know, not showering and pajamas and pizza boxes. He was clicking around on the internet when he found this YouTube channel of a couple getting ready to go sailing. He invited me over one night and said, ‘Look at this, people do this, we can do this, but I need you.’ Because he couldn’t do the boat by himself.”

  “Wow, that’s intense.” I was quiet for a moment, thinking about the brother who would ask for this and the brother who would pause his whole life to help him.

  Eivind got another beer, and when he returned, he sat next to me, resting his arm on the ledge behind my back. We weren’t touching, but the heat from his arm radiated toward me, the brightness of his skin wafting around me, like lemons and hops. Suddenly this yearning hit me—to be in a foreign place, on a grand adventure, with a beautiful man. It felt like I could have anything.

  “Ciao!” Marcella’s voice called out from the dock. She and Elayna were back from the pool and the boat quickly became a bustle of voices and activity.

  “I should go,” I said, and Eivind’s face flashed with disappointment, but then he grinned.

  “Will I see you tomorrow?”

  I smirked. “I’m not going anywhere unless it’s on this boat. You are stuck with me.”

  Eivind’s eyes dipped to my lips briefly, but he let me go. “Tomorrow.”

  Seven

  When I flounced down into Silver Lining, Peter and Edith were sitting around the dining room table.

  “He’s single!” I sang. “Oh, and also,” I said nonchalantly, “I’m going through the canal.”

  “Good job, dear,” Edith said. “I don’t know which to ask about first.”

  I laughed. “Well, Jonas is with Elayna, one of the girls. Eivind is single.”

  “Ah.” Edith rested her chin on her fist. “They are both attractive, don’t get me wrong, but Jonas is more my type. His hair, his eyes . . .”

  Peter cleared his throat.

  “Right, on to point two. Are you going through the canal with Eik, then?”

  “Yes, we talked over all the particulars, and I have been given the stamp of approval.”

  “Congratulations, dear.” Edith checked her watch. “This calls for celebratory sundowners.”

  Edith and I faffed about in the galley, pouring drinks and putting together a plate of nibbles. We reconvened back up top in the cockpit, where Edith sat down and leaned towards me with a conspiratorial look.

  “So, what are you going to do about Eivind?”

  My eyes lost focus as I thought about all the things I’d like to do.

  “Oh, Lila.” She giggled and swatted at me. “Your face. Please, I don’t want to know what that thought was.”

  I blushed. “What? He’s very good-looking.”

  “He is,” she agreed.

  I sobered up and wrinkled my nose at Edith. “It’s probably not a good idea to start anything with him, right?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, if we hooked up, there’s so much that could go wrong. Maybe I like him too much, maybe he likes me too much, or maybe we’d just be awful together.”

  Edith snorted. “Based on the chemistry I’ve seen, I doubt that will happen.”

  I laughed. “I know. But if it crashed and burned, maybe they wouldn’t want me on the boat anymore, or maybe I’d go and it would be all awkward.”

  “Ah, I see. I know going through the canal is really important to you, so I understand how it might be better not to risk it—for now.”

  “Yeah. Argh, Edith.” I let my head fall back and I flopped my arms out dramatically. “Why must you be so mature and wise? Why can’t you just tell me to enjoy life and fling my wild oats while I’m youn
g?”

  “Years of experience,” she said dryly.

  “Yeah, no, you are right. Starting something with Eivind may not be the best.”

  “But you know, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I bet you can work it out to have at least a night of fun over in Panama City.” She grinned cheekily.

  “The whole thing feels a bit like star-crossed lovers. Now I only want him more.” I bit back a grin.

  Edith whacked me with a pillow.

  The next day, I sat in the salon of Silver Lining and was having lunch with Peter and Edith when Eivind called on the radio.

  “Silver Lining, Silver Lining, this is Eik.”

  I looked at Peter, and he motioned to the radio. “Well, go get it.” I picked up the microphone and pressed the talk button. “Silver Lining here. Go ahead, Eik.”

  “One seven?” Eivind was asking to switch to another channel to have a longer conversation.

  “One seven.” I turned the knob on the radio to change it to channel seventeen and waited for Eivind.

  “Eik here, Lila?”

  “Hey, Eivind,” I said.

  “I wanted to let you know we have been assigned our transit date. It is March first. We have also cleaned up the cabins, and you can come to stay on Eik.”

  My heart sank. This was later than I had hoped for. My flight to leave Panama departed on the second. I could not do the transit and make my flight; we would need all day both days to complete our transit through the canal. “That’s great news, Eivind. Let me get back to you about the cabin, okay?”

  “Okay, come by anytime. Eik standing by on seven-four.”

  “Silver Lining back to seven-four.”

  “Why the long face, bub?” Edith asked.

  “My flight is on March second. I would have to change it.”

  “Can you do that?”

  “I don’t know. I have to look at the policy. But it’s not just changing my flight. I’d planned out three months total, with the first three weeks here. If I extend my stay in Panama, I’d have to cut something out.”

  “How important is it to you to go through the canal?”