Swimming Lessons

by Mary Alice Monroe

  She looked at her wristwatch and sighed with frustration. Time to go home, she told herself. She rose, took a last look around her cubicle then able to procrastinate no longer, she picked up her backpack and turned off the light. Her mind was still puzzling over Ethan as she rode the elevator down to the Aquarium’s main floor. It was near closing and only a few stragglers remained around the large gallery tank at the entrance, pointing at the moray eel that was slowly emerging from the rocks. She walked past them, rolling Ethan’s words over in her mind. She continued across the bright, airy main floor of the Aquarium, past exhibits glistening with water, glass and greenery, to the exit. Before the glass doors she stopped.

  Compelled by some strange force she couldn’t name, she turned and walked back through the gallery, past the cluster of people to the Great Ocean Tank gallery.

  The dim, hushed room curved to encircle the bottom of the two story tank. It shimmered, alive and mystifying. She looked around the gallery, glad that the room was empty. The small exhibit tanks along the perimeter were pockets of light against the deep blue-gray walls. But it was the Great Ocean tank that lured her closer.

  Toy saw Ethan in the tank and knew why she’d come. In all her rambling thoughts, she’d remembered someone saying that there was an erratic shark in the tank and Ethan replying that he was going in to check it out this afternoon.

  He was near the sandy bottom, swimming slowly and deliberately around the brightly colored, rocky reef. He was wearing his black wetsuit, flippers and hood, and in his hand he was carrying a white plastic bucket. It was filled with food. A dozen big fish were swarming around him, butting their noses against the bucket. He pushed them away, his gaze trained on something overhead.

  Toy followed his line of vision and saw what it was he was watching. The ten foot sand tiger shark emerged from the shadows. It swam past Ethan in its unhurried manner, a white tip on its nose and its black eyes fathomless. As the shark swam away, Toy breathed a little easier. Two more sharks, considerably smaller, also swam past and these, too, were unconcerned with the diver in black that held a food bucket.

  While Ethan observed the sharks, her own gaze was trained on him. She thought how very much in his element he was, surrounded by reef and fish. She looked upward, searching for the sharks. The silvery reflection of the water cast undulating shadows against the walls. When she lowered her head again she gasped. Ethan was looking directly at her from inside the tank. Fish swirled around him, a kaleidoscope of color, but he seemed unaware of anything except for her.

  They stood for several minutes staring silently at one another. Then he slowly swam to the edge of the tank, stopping at the wall that separated them. He raised his hand and pressed his palm flat against the glass, reaching out, she knew, to her.

  Her heart beat fast as she felt again the strange bond between them. It was a force of its own with the power to pull her closer to him. She walked across the carpet toward him, her arm slowly rising en route. His eyes shone in the wedge of mask. Reaching him, she pressed her hand against the cool glass to meet his. Palm to palm, the connection was visceral, as though their skin really touched. Her palm was aflame and the sensations coursed through her bloodstream, sending her heart pumping hard and her breath to come in short pants. She knew that he felt the same, soul stirring connection.

  The sand tiger shark swam by, his long sleek body veering closer this time. She turned her head to follow the menacing path. Ethan, too, swung his head, alert to the subtle change in the shark’s pattern. From above, his back-up diver was signaling for his attention.

  He dropped his hand. The moment was broken.

  Toy retracted hers and looked at it, still feeling the strange tingling in her palm. Something important had just happened between them. She couldn’t name it but felt it as surely as if she’d been struck by lightning. Looking back at the tank, she saw Ethan swimming into the coral reef. Bewildered, Toy turned and walked away.

  The sky darkened and Toy walked across the living room to the rear window to peer out at the western sky. She heard a low, faint rumbling in the heavens. A gust of cool breeze, heavy with the scent of rain, poured over her. A hard rain was coming. She could feel it in her bones.

  The rumbling storm suited her introspective mood. She still felt the strange, evocative connection she’d experienced with Ethan. She felt it swirling just under her skin. It had the power to take her breath away.

  But, had it all been her imagination? Was she reading too much into it, like some lovesick school girl? She didn’t need this nonsense now, she told herself. She was leaving for Costa Rica tomorrow morning.

  She reached out, and with a firm push, closed the window. The old wood rumbled down the track and sealed just as the first, fat drops of rain hit the porch. It was just the oncoming storm that had brought the goose bumps to her skin, she told herself. Her moodiness was simply the anxiety of an inexperienced traveler about to embark on her first solo journey.

  Again thunder rumbled, closer this time, and the rain pattered noisily on the tin roof. Toy walked through the small living room turning on all the lamps. Soon the room was bathed in soft, yellow light. She looked around, feeling secure in the warmth of familiar things. Down the hall, Lovie was tucked in bed, her story read and her teeth brushed. The airplane tickets were in her purse on the hall table, and beside it was her computer and important papers. She was packed, the final arrangements were completed. All was in order. She released a deep sigh. She was ready to go.

  Outside, she heard Darryl’s heavy footfall coming up the stairs. She turned her head in time to see him enter the room and wipe his feet on the kitchen mat. When he looked up, she noticed that his longish dark hair was damp from the rain.

  “You’re all set. I put the suitcase in your car,” he said, closing the door behind him. He wiped his hands on his thighs and his pale eyes softened as he took in the dim light of the room. “It looks right cozy in here.”

  “Thanks,” Toy replied, meaning it. He’d been a great help in closing up the house and running last minute errands. In the past few months he’d shown a side of himself that she’d missed, a caring and dependable side of someone who helped makes life easier. “Thanks for everything.”

  She went to the counter to the long “to do” list she’d made for herself. Picking up a pencil, she started crossing items off. She was startled when she felt Darryl’s arms slide around her from behind.

  She dropped her pencil and stiffened in his arms. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m just getting close.” His voice was a velvety purr at her ear. “You’re leaving, after all. I want to say a proper goodbye.”

  She closed her eyes and held her breath as his head lowered and his lips feather kissed her neck.

  “Darryl,” she said in a soft moan, “Don’t. I’ve got so much to do.”

  He turned her in his arms and his gaze was heavy and seductive. She smelled his aftershave and was struck with a sudden flash of déjà-vu. She felt once more the young girl who felt safe and secure against a harsh world in this man’s arms.

  His hand slid up her back to cup her head and she felt their breaths mingle as he moved her face closer to his. Toy closed her eyes, and whether from habit or inevitability, she relinquished.

  Darryl’s lips were full and trembled with passion. He’d always been a good kisser. Yet as he pressed against her, something was missing from her reaction. She felt cold and distanced from the kiss, as though it were happening to someone else. It felt somehow wrong.

  “Darryl, stop.” Toy pushed her hands against Darryl’s shoulder. She turned her head, tearing her lips away. “I can’t do this.”

  He froze, his arms holding tight. Then, slowly, he let her slide back. His eyes reflected confusion and the embers of passion. “You used to like my kisses.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Darryl, I can’t,” she said softly, not wishing to hurt him. “I don’t want to.”r />
  “Hey, okay,” he said, but it sounded automatic. He took a deep breath and looked away, pursing his lips, like he was trying to put together what was happening. Then he swung his head back and his eyes flashed.

  “Toy, I still don’t get it. I’ve been trying real hard to please you and you keep shooting me down. Girl, you’ve got to offer me some hope.”

  She took a breath, digging deep, knowing with every fiber of her being what was the honest answer. “I can’t offer you hope. I can’t offer you anything more than what we have right now. A friendship. A bond with Lovie. That’s all.”

  He looked broadsided. “Then what’s this all been about?” he asked in a strained voice.

  “You asked for the chance to get to know your daughter. I wanted you to have that chance.”

  “Are you telling me that you and I didn’t have something going on here? ’Cause I felt it, babe.” He pounded his chest where his heart was. “I felt it.”

  She swallowed hard, feeling broken. She sought out his gaze, wanted to hold it so when she spoke he would understand that her words came from her heart. “You’re right. There was something there. Darryl, I knew you wanted to get back together, the way we used to be. And I didn’t do anything to discourage it. I…I guess I needed to find out if I still had feelings for you. I wanted it to work, can you understand that? I’ve always wanted for us to be a family. I used to dream of it. I begged you for it, don’t you remember?”

  His face tightened and he nodded. “I was a goddamn fool.”

  “I never had a family of my own and I wanted that for Lovie. You’re so good with her. I thought if I could meet you halfway and we both worked at it, then maybe we could make a go of it together. We could be a family, for Lovie.”

  “And I want that. You know I do! You got to know I love you. Toy, I’ve never stopped loving you.”

  “Yes, you did,” she blurted back. “Darryl, yes, you did!” She took a shuddering breath and wiped her eyes. “But it’s okay,” she said with calm certainty. “Because I stopped loving you, too.”

  He stared at her a long moment, taking her words in. Then he shook his head, as though shaking off a stupor. “Well, that’s it then.”

  He walked to the sofa to pick up his denim jacket, his heavy heels reverberating in the tense silence.

  “Darryl…”

  “What?” His voice was sharp with annoyance.

  Taken aback, she clenched her hands at her thighs, then went to pick up an envelope on the counter, and without speaking, held it out for him to take.

  “What’s this?” he asked, looking at it like it was dirt.

  “It’s a list of all the phone numbers, addresses and information you’ll need while I’m gone. It’s all arranged for you to take Lovie to the museum on Saturday.” She spoke in a lifeless tone. “That is, if you still want to.”

  “Hell, yes, I want to! Why wouldn’t I? She’s not kicking me out of her life too, is she?”

  Toy looked up sharply. She heard his hurt in his voice, and the first rumblings of his anger. “No, of course not. I’m glad you want to see her. She’s really looking forward to spending the day with you.”

  He looked out the window, clearly anxious to get out. There was no point in prolonging this. “Lovie will be at Cara’s house while I’m gone. You’ll find her address and phone number in here. If you have any questions, call Cara. My cell phone won’t work in Costa Rica.”

  She lifted the envelope and held it out to him again.

  He looked at the envelope like he wasn’t sure whether to take it or hurl it in her face. He snatched it roughly from her hands and turned on his heel, slamming the door behind him.

  23

  Toy stepped from the plane into the moist, humid air of the tropics.

  She’d never traveled before but now she knew what the word foreign meant. The airport was a vast and cleared square of grass and cement surrounded by a chain link fence and, in the distance, mountains. In the center of the square was a grey metal warehouse that was the main terminal. The tropical sun was hot and beat relentlessly upon the weary travelers emerging from the jet. Toy followed the queue through the metal gates to the terminal.

  After her papers were stamped, she craned her neck in search of someone carrying a sign with her name on it. A coterie of people pulling luggage gathered in a patch of shade by the front entrance. She joined them, removing her jacket, rolling up her sleeves and slipping off her socks.

  After a short wait her eye was caught by a striking young man with dark golden skin and dreadlocks that flowed from his head to his shoulders. He wore baggy shorts, lengths of wooden beads around his neck and moved with an easy, island manner. When he spotted her, he smiled widely revealing a boyish grin that made his blue eyes brighten against his tan. He lifted a crinkled piece of paper over his head so she could read her name scrawled across it in black ink. Relieved, she waved him over.

  “My name’s Rafael,” he said in British English. “I’ve come to fetch you and bring you to Playa Grande. Is that all your luggage? Right then, let me take it. Follow me.”

  He was very efficient, despite his appearance, and she remembered Miss Lovie telling her never to judge a book by its cover. She hoped his mama told him the same thing because in contrast, she looked like some old schoolteacher, out of sync with the relaxed island garb of the natives.

  She grabbed her camera before he tossed her suitcase inside a hot, dusty Jeep with all the windows either rolled down or missing. After she buckled up, he turned his head, and with a cocky grin told her, “Buckle up. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

  And lord, it was. Once they left the Pan American Highway, it was dirt roads all the way, most of them heavily pocked with huge craters steeped in mud that forced drivers to crawl around them over walkways, rocks, anything passable. September was in the rainy season and the roads were little better than mudslides. She sat by the open window and gawked, spellbound by the gorgeous and exotic country.

  In the distance, mountains that Rafael told her were home to coffee plantations disappeared in misty clouds. Closer to the coast, banana plantations and small towns were carved into the rain soaked jungle. Locals were cheery and seemingly oblivious to the road conditions. Children wearing backpacks were returning home from school, skinny dogs and feral cats ran wild, and a Brahmin bull stopped traffic as it meandered across the road.

  The fields were aflame with color. Tropical flowers hung from the trees, gathered wild along the roadside, and spilled from containers at the modest homes they passed. Birds soared in the sky and roosted in trees, and occasionally, she heard a strange, bellowing roar from the trees that Rafael told her was the Mono, or the howler monkey. The only thing that Toy found unsettling was the number of For Sale signs that dotted the property all along the major roads. Rafael sadly shook his head and told her that, as far as he could tell, the whole country was for sale. She replied that she often felt the same way about the lowcountry.

  Rafael was good company and seemed to know where he was going as he readily skirted the mudslides, craters, bulls and even a small river that coursed over the road. Toy had learned never to drive into fast moving water so she gripped the dashboard with white knuckles when Rafael plowed through.

  “Qué hombre!” she muttered, half as a compliment, half as a tease. He turned his head, grinning with pleasure.

  At last Rafael turned into a narrow, winding road that led to a cluster of low wood buildings. Beyond, she caught a glimpse of the mighty blue waters of the Pacific Ocean. Her spirits soared.

  “Welcome to Villa Baulas,” he said coming to a stop in the small gravel parking lot.

  Villa Baulas was an ecological beach hotel made up of three low-slung, wood buildings and a few quaint bungalows on stilts, all built in the simple Tico style of mahogany and bamboo. After promising to meet Rafael for a beer later, she was led by a smiling woman past thickets of trees, a swimming pool nestled beside a thatched roof restaurant, to one of the wooden build
ings on stilts that faced the ocean. As she climbed the stairs, she thought she was entering a tree house. The sun was just setting as she reached her floor and she paused to look out through the thorny trees.

  She sighed with relief. Fifty yards beyond lay a serene blue ocean, only this wasn’t the Atlantic Ocean, but the Pacific! Still, the sight of ocean and sand were touch-stones. After driving through jungle and mountains, she felt at home.

  The road dust, heat and humidity clung to her like a heavy coat. When the door to her small, dark paneled room closed, she dropped her bags to the floor with a thud and immediately peeled off her sticky clothes

  “I’m really here!” she exclaimed. She stood naked with her arms spread, relishing the modest breeze from the overhead fan. The shower was tiny and there was no hot water. Still, the tepid water that trickled in a miserly stream from the dangling showerhead felt glorious and she relished each drop as it cleansed away the miles she’d traveled. Tilting her head back she imagined all the confusion and hassles and heartache and responsibilities that she’d left behind flowing down from her shoulders, swirling at her feet and sliding away down the drain.

  She dressed in shorts and a cotton shirt and joined the others at the open-air restaurant for dinner. These twenty-some interns chose to stay at the cheaper, local hotel rather than the fancier hotel in Tamarindo. It was a young group and they were already sitting at the tables under the great thatched roof that spread out over the area like an umbrella. Everyone was leisurely drinking beers, laughing and eating their meals. She walked up to the restaurant feeling out of place. She didn’t know anyone. Rafael came up to greet her and took her under his wing.

  “Hey, everyone, this Nina Bonita is Toy Sooner from the United States. She’s joining us.” Calls of welcome sang out like birdsong and she was quickly introduced to the others who’d traveled to Villa Baulas to attend the symposium and work with the sea turtles.