Going Nowhere

by Kimberly Lauren

  “Does that mean no?”

  “What? Oh‌—‌no, I was thinking about something else.” I adjusted my t-shirt. “It sounds like fun, Max. Just let me slip into something a little more... fresh. Okay?”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  “So I’ve heard that there are some beautiful beaches around here,” I said as we walked onto the island of St. Maarten. I was still feeling uncomfortable about what I’d planned to do earlier. Even though I hadn’t actually rushed to Max’s room to interrogate him, I still felt awkward about it.

  “Beautiful beaches in the Caribbean? Are you sure?”

  We’d only left the gangplank and already he was mocking me. All of the nerve. “Anyway, it’s too bad I didn’t buy any ship excursions.”

  “I heard it’s cheaper to hire someone from the pier to take you, anyway.”

  “Sounds dangerous. And fraught with liability issues.”

  “You sound like a lawyer.” I hesitantly led Max toward the end of the cruise pier, where I saw a lot of taxis congregating. It looked promising and seemed to match up with the advice I’d read on the internet. It said to move away from the main pack of tour guides, who usually charge as much as the official excursions, and try to find an independent. Then get ready to haggle.

  Before I could decide on who looked the most like a lone wolf, a man called us over. I looked at Max. “Shall we give him a try?”

  “Livin’ on the edge.”

  We hurried over to the car. “Can you take us to one the nice beaches?”

  “I can take you to Cupecoy Beach. Fifty dollar.”

  Max put his hand on the car door.

  I pulled him back and said to the driver, “No. Thirty dollars.”

  “No, no. Forty.”

  Max looked at me.

  “Thirty-five,” I said firmly, as though I weren’t about to change my mind.

  The driver nodded. “Pay first.”

  I reached into my tote, but Max pulled out the cash faster and paid the man. We got into the back seat of a vintage Jeep. I smiled to myself, proud of my negotiating skills. An excursion would have cost fifty dollars each.

  The car pulled away from the dock with a jerky, three-point turn. I caught my breath as our driver weaved in and out of traffic, some of which were in a queue. I guess that was the way one had to drive in this country. Who was I to judge?

  We pulled onto a road that snaked through town and drove quickly past charming shops and cafés. Once or twice, our driver nearly sideswiped a pedestrian, who usually yelled after the car with a fist in the air. Not that we were able to hear them for long.

  Soon, we were driving away from the town and into a less populated area. Our driver seemed to drive a little faster now without the pedestrians to slow him down. I glanced at Max, trying to divine if he was at all concerned about the driving skills of our driver. He seemed to be gritting his teeth and trying to figure out how to correctly latch a broken seatbelt.

  Taking his silent advice, I plugged in my own seatbelt and leaned back. “It’s a beautiful country, isn’t it?”

  Max nodded. “It’s nice.”

  I guess he really was concerned about the driving.

  The driver looked at me in the rearview mirror and smiled a toothless smile. “Most beautiful island in the world,” he said thickly. “Which beach you want to go to?” the man asked.

  “I thought you said you’d take us to Cupecoy?” I said, wishing I’d come more prepared.

  He grinned. “I take you to nice beach.”

  I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Either way, it seemed that the nicest beach was down a bumpy, narrow road. The driver took a turn and my face was knocked against the cloudy, dirty window. I was lucky I’d locked the door.

  I looked down at my hands and saw that they were gripping the seat in front of me so tightly that my knuckles were white. I released my death grip and took a deep breath. It was going to be all right. Obviously, this man took this route every day without incident. I’m sure we had nothing to worry about.

  Then the driver took another oddly angled turn, and I wasn’t so sure anymore. I grabbed onto Max to stop myself from plunging out one of the windows and nearly murdered his future children. I struggled to right myself and tightened the old, ratty seatbelt around my waist.

  “Would you slow down?” Max asked.

  “You don’t want fast?” the driver shouted back. “I have many customers. Must get back to pier.”

  Max groaned and held onto the sides of the seat. “This is ridiculous.”

  “I know. He’s crazy,” I said.

  “Crazy?” the driver piped up from the front seat. “You want go crazy?”

  “What?” Max asked.

  “I got the ganja. Want to buy some ganja for the lady?”

  “No!”

  “Wait a second, Max. Hear him out,” I said jokingly.

  “Where did we find this guy?”

  Before I could answer, the driver said, “No ganja? I sell you crack!”

  “No!” we chorused.

  The driver took a sharp turn onto what barely resembled a road. “I show you best beaches.”

  I catapulted into the headrest in front of me. What had I gotten myself into?

  Humming along to the radio, the driver didn’t seem to notice how uneven the road was. There were random dips and craters everywhere. Sometimes we’d go over bumps so big that my head would bounce against the top of the car.

  “I get you heroin?” he wondered aloud.

  “No, thank you. Could you take us to where the rest of the tourists are?”

  “Opium?” he asked hesitantly.

  “We don’t want any drugs!”

  The driver closed his wide, yapping mouth and pouted for a bit. “I take you to tourists,” he growled.

  The car took another turn and went over a bump at the same time, making me conk Max in the head. “Sorry.”

  Laughing, the driver continued on his merry way.

  Max gingerly rubbed his noggin. “You pack a punch.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Connoisseur Cruises,” he intoned in a deep voice. “For those who seek adventure.”

  I laughed, imagining how we would look in a commercial.

  Max definitely wouldn’t be a good advertisement, the way he was holding his head in his hands and looking queasy.

  Finally, I started to see other cars. We’d pulled back onto a thoroughfare where many taxis were depositing passengers. Our driver pulled over to the side of the road and held out his hand. “Tip?”

  Ignoring his outstretched hand, I looked out the window. As promised, there were many tourists congregating about the area, most of them from the ship. Most of them also looked calm and relaxed, as though they hadn’t had a crazy drug dealer driving their taxi. Oh well. At least I had saved a few bucks.

  I got out of the car as quickly as possible. Max was right behind me, looking as though he wanted to get down on his knees and kiss the ground. I heard the driver curse behind me and speed off.

  “I’m so sorry, Max,” I started. “I had no idea it would be like that.”

  “That was horrific,” he said, then started to laugh. “Are they even required to take driving tests over here?”

  “Yeah, they teach you how to get there the fastest.”

  He continued to laugh. “Do you want some ganja?” he mimicked.

  “No? What about heroin?”

  We wandered toward the beach together, following the many other tourist types that were milling around. There was a large path that everyone was taking toward the main part of the beach.

  “I wonder where that smaller path goes,” I mused aloud, pointing to a different path. It was more secluded and overgrown, but still a path.

  “I have an idea. Why don’t we take the path less traveled by?”

  I smiled. “Well, when you put it that way, how could I say no?”

  We started down the path together and after a few ste
ps, Max reached for my hand. As we walked, he would use his other hand to pull branches aside so they wouldn’t slap me in the face. The deeper we went, the worst the situation got, until I finally stopped.

  I looked from side to side. “Do you think this path is taking us anywhere?”

  “We can only know by trying.”

  “I know. Do you actually think this looks promising?”

  Max gestured at the dense foliage. “I think this is great. Who knows where it leads? That’s the fun part. It’s an adventure. And the path is marked, so we have no fear of getting lost. It’s the best of both worlds.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” I tried to peer ahead, through the palm fronds and other tropical plants that I didn’t know the names of. “It must lead somewhere.”

  “Anyway,” he said, “if we don’t find something soon, we’ll turn back.”

  “Fair enough.”

  We continued to walk, Max still holding my hand. Occasionally, he squeezed it when he saw something interesting. Soon, I started to hear the sound of waves cresting on the beach.

  “Do you hear that?” I asked, jogging along the path until the sound got louder.

  “I don’t hear anything,” he said with a frown.

  “I think we’re near the beach.” I hurried along, no longer holding his hand. I was too excited.

  The sound was definitely getting louder. “You can hear that now, can’t you?”

  “I’m not deaf.”

  “I know. I was just hoping I wasn’t crazy.”

  Max hurried to catch up with me. “Don’t get carried away. This doesn’t prove you’re not crazy.”

  “I think we’ll have to go off the path a little to get to it.”

  He had his hands on his hips like a stern teacher. “Be careful. We’ve been walking on an incline. You don’t want to go over a cliff.”

  “Will you trust me?”

  “Fine. Let’s go.”

  I clapped my hands together and hurried into the underbrush. I walked carefully, as Max had suggested, but it turned out to be unnecessary. After a few minutes, we emerged on the other side. The crisp, blue Caribbean was laid out in front of us and a secluded cave was situated to our right. “We made it.”

  Max laughed. “I’m still trying to decide if it was worth it. We’re practically the only people here.”

  “Maybe it’s an old pirate haunt! And that’s the cave where they hid their loot.”

  He took a few steps toward the cool interior of the cave. “Do you want to see a pirate’s booty?”

  “Sounds enticing.” From where I was standing, I was able to see that the cave didn’t go very far back. I followed him inside and leaned against one of the naturally formed walls. “It’s much cooler in the shade.”

  “And more secluded,” he said, leaning closer. His voice echoed softly through the rocky nook.

  I started to lean in slowly, a light breeze caressing my bare arms and the sound of crashing waves melting away my defenses. Max kissed me, pressing me against the cool wall of the cave. The sensation of his tongue in my mouth, maneuvering so expertly, made me want him to lift up my skirt and take me right there.

  I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed him back. I wrapped one leg around his body, practically begging him to push harder against me. He did, slowly lifting up my skirt in the process.

  It was only then that I realized my swift transition from suspecting him of fooling around with my best friend to completely rolling out the welcome wagon. I pulled away.

  Max’s eyes snapped open. “What?”

  “I’m sorry, Max.”

  His body was a little wobbly, like a person who’d realized halfway into a dive that there was no water in the pool.

  Guilt attacked me from all angles and it was all I could do not to crouch in the sand and cover my head with my bare arms. “It’s not you, it’s...”

  “You don’t have to explain,” he said. “I shouldn’t have tried anything. We should go.”

  I followed him back into the foliage. “Are you upset?”

  “No.”

  The truth rang clear in his voice, and I wondered if I could claim the same, even though I’d been the one to put the kibosh on things. I listened to the flip-flop of my sandals as we walked the trail back to the main road.

  I wanted to ask why he never seemed to care enough to fight for me. I wanted to know if it was because I wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t that I was playing games to try to get him to fight; I was just so... scared.

  We hitched a taxi, agreed to pay another thirty dollars, and had an uneventful ride back to the pier.

  I thought he was going to suggest we call it a day as soon as we got out of the car, but then he said, “Let’s get our fortune told.”

  “What?”

  He pointed out a woman sitting by herself under the eave of an old restaurant. Her clothing was dark and threadbare. She had a scarf tied around her head and a long braid trailing down her back. Her fingernails were long and dirty.

  “I don’t know, Max,” I whispered, backing away. “She looks ominous. Maybe we should go.”

  “Relax. We’re in the Caribbean, not the darkest heart of Africa. Her gypsy look is merely a marketing ploy.”

  Rolling my eyes, I turned my back on him. “You wouldn’t survive a minute in the jungle. Don’t you know what a threat looks like?”

  “Surely I could charm my way out of any precarious situation. No?” He ran his fingers down my bare arm, eliciting a response that would prove him right.

  I flinched away from his deft touch. “I’d stay in Miami if I were you.”

  Max boldly turned my body back towards the lonely woman. “Come on, Kate. Let’s do it. She’s sitting there all by herself. It’s pathetic, really. Our contribution to her salary might mean the difference between life and death. You don’t want her family to starve, do you?”

  “If anything happens, I’m blaming you.”

  “Unless she puts a vodou curse on you that disintegrates your tongue like a flesh-eating virus. Then you won’t be saying anything.” He waved his fingers mockingly in my face.

  “You’re tempting fate.”

  He dragged me along until we were standing in front of the card table. “Hello,” he said to the woman.

  “I will tell your fortune. Ten dollars.”

  I sat in one of the small folding chairs and Max took the other one.

  The woman stared at me‌—‌or I thought she did, as she was a little cross-eyed. I could almost imagine her poking a hole in an egg with a long, gnarly fingernail, spilling the bloody yolk onto a plate, and reading the nasty globs as though they were tealeaves. I guess I’d watched too many movies, because all she actually did was take a deck of tarot cards from a felt drawstring bag and spread them in a fan on the table.

  “Pick one,” she said in a deep tone.

  I deliberated over which card to choose, happy to turn over anything but the death card. Finally, I took the card at the very end of the fan. She wouldn’t be expecting that move. Ha ha!

  I was about the flip the card over when the fortuneteller placed her hand over mine. “Not yet. Hold it against your heart.”

  Without looking at it, I did as she requested. I pressed the worn, wrinkled card against my breast, my hand trembling irrationally.

  She turned her head to Max. “Now you. Pick a card.”

  Max laughed characteristically. “I didn’t know this was going to be a David Blaine-type thing.”

  “Pick,” she repeated in that creepy, no-nonsense tone.

  Even Max seemed to be quieted by her presence. He chose a card and held it against his heart before she could instruct him to do so.

  She nodded. “Very good.”

  As she sat there, silent, eyes closed, I wondered if she was about to pull a fast one on us. Push over the table, cackle, then tell us we were on Candid Camera. Better yet, she’d say, “You’re on Girls Behaving Badly!” and all the tourists in the square would turn out to b
e producers, and‌—‌

  “There is much lust in your future. You will be seduced by a very powerful and desirable man,” she intoned, eyes still closed.

  “Hmm,” Max said, looking up from his own card. “She’s very good.”

  “I think she’s talking to you.”

  “Funny.”

  She snapped open her eyes and glared at me. Or Max. Again, I wasn’t sure. “The card?” she said, holding out her hand.

  I gave it to her and she turned it over. It was the Empress of Swords, not that I had any idea what that meant. The fortuneteller was nodding over it like one of those infernal drinking birds.

  “Yes. Much love in your horizon. Tall, dark, and handsome.” She looked up at Max.

  I dreaded what she might be about to say.

  “Give me your card.”

  Max quickly handed it over without a snide comment.

  “You are being played like a puppet,” she told him.

  “Look at that. Truth in advertising,” I said in response.

  She shushed me and spoke directly to Max. “One whom you think is a friend is no more loyal than a wolf.”

  I gulped and rifled through my purse for ten dollars.

  Max beat me to it again, producing a twenty. He laid it on the table and offered me his hand.

  I accepted it gratefully and dragged him away from the tarot reader. That was a waste of time. I didn’t believe in any of that stuff. Nope‌—‌all garbage. We got back on board the ship and Max walked me all the way to my room, where I intended to hang garlic that evening or something.

  “Thanks, Max. It was definitely unforgettable.”

  He smiled, sunburned cheeks high and rounded in his face. “Don’t mention it.”

  After he said goodbye, I went into my stateroom and fell back on my bed. I could hear the muted sounds of laughter coming from an adjacent room. Other people on this cruise were actually having fun. They weren’t terrified of kissing someone because they’d created a drama in their head about their best friend sneaking around with him. Even when, in their hearts, they knew that that said best friend was loyal.

  Not only was I a mess, but my lack of social skills was going to single-handedly destroy my life.

  Chapter Twelve

  I WAS TEN minutes into a nap when the phone rang.