Savasana at Sea

by Ava Dunne

  Every time he snapped out a quip, even if it wasn’t directed at me, I was reminded of my ex-fiancé’s sarcasm. Jack always had a harsh comment for someone who didn’t quite live up to his expectations, often said with a razor-sharp smile, delivered with a bucket of charm. Half the time, the person attacked didn’t even feel the wound until later, when my ex was long out of response range. I’d been on the receiving end of those stinging remarks, before the break-up, but hadn’t looked at the words and the intent behind them until the past few days, when we were no longer a couple.

  This guy couldn’t know his behavior reminded me of someone who’d hurt me; he didn’t know my story any more than I knew his. But I figured I should stay away from him as much as possible in a space as contained as a ship, at least until I’d re-grown a thicker skin. Thankfully, he didn’t look anything like my ex, or dress like him. From the length of his hair (and the lack of product in it), I figured he didn’t have to deal with passengers…excuse me, guests, on a regular basis.

  “I did okay when we had the drill right after we left New York.” I didn’t appreciate that he assumed I was an idiot.

  “You tried to put your head through an armhole.”

  “I was flustered.”

  “You think you’ll be calmer if we’re sinking?” He plucked a vest out of the holding compartment and tossed it at me. “Let’s see.”

  “You think I’m going to need it? I thought the Diamond Line ships had the best safety record of any operating cruise line?”

  “It’s insurance,” he retorted. “If you know how to use it, you won’t need it. If you slack off, you’ll be in trouble.”

  “Sebastian is right,” said Hans. “You need to demonstrate you know how to use it.”

  I glanced around. The other crew and staff members ambled around the deck, chatting and staring out over the water, all wearing their vests. I struggled to slide the bulky item on, whacking myself in the head a few times, and to fasten it properly. I glared at Sebastian. “Happy now?”

  “A little awkward.” He leaned forward, undid it, and stripped it off me. He held it out. “Try again.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Nope.” He shook his head. “I happen to be in charge of the particular life boat to which you’re assigned, everyone else is used to the drill, and I’m going to make sure you know how to do this. You’re the new kid, Sophie Batchelder.”

  “You even know my name. Should I be impressed?”

  “The only thing I care about right now is that you can smoothly get in and out of your vest. Yes, I know your name. You’re on the muster roll for this station.”

  I swallowed the rude comment that sprang to my lips and accepted the jacket. After sliding it on and off three more times, Sebastian nodded. “That will do. You’ll be able to handle it in a crisis.”

  “How likely is that crisis?”

  “Open water? Weather? We always need to assume that a crisis is just around the corner. We need to be prepared.”

  “You sound like a Boy Scout,” I muttered.

  He grinned, and it lit up his face. “I’m no Boy Scout. I was the scourge of the Boy Scouts growing up. They hated me.”

  “Why?”

  “I was better at getting by in the woods than they were, with less work. We had gold panners and silver miners and trappers in our family tree, and every generation made sure the next one down got the skills.”

  “I wonder how many guests tried to hide in their cabins this time.” Roz McIntyre snickered as she joined us. She was a dancer on the entertainment staff, a tall, slender, dark-skinned woman with exquisite posture, who reminded me of a cross between a Daddy Long-Legs and a giraffe. From the moment I set foot aboard the Charisma, she decided we would be friends. Considering Geri’s hostility, I was grateful. “Hello, Sebastian. Hello, Sophie. How’s it going?”

  “I’m sure we’ll hear in CB later, when the bets are paid off,” Sebastian replied. “Crew bar,” he added, for my benefit.

  “I can put the damn life vest on in my sleep,” I grumbled.

  “Let’s hope you never need to.” Sebastian dropped the joking tone.

  “Bet Geri’s making you teach the two o’clock Pilates,” said Roz. “While she’s off assignating with Gary or Viktor. She hates Pilates.”

  “She told some guy named Gary she didn’t have time for him right now,” I said. “Is ‘assignating’ even a word?”

  “I’ll submit it to the OED when I get a minute.” Roz nodded. “Then it’s Viktor. Thanks for the tip. It’ll give me an ace up my sleeve against her when I need it.”

  “Geri’s not supposed to mess with the ship’s second officer.” Sebastian frowned.

  “Or he with her,” Roz shot back. “I don’t like Geri, but let’s not blame the woman for everything, shall we?” She tugged my arm. “Let’s grab something to eat. If you don’t eat when you can, you’ll pass out at the most inconvenient times.”

  “Watch out for that one.” Sebastian nodded in Roz’s direction. “She likes bad men and good champagne.”

  I wasn’t sure whether or not he meant it as a joke.

  “Better than your unnatural affection for life vests,” Roz retorted. She took me by the arm and steered me away. “You need food. I need gossip.”

  “I don’t know anything,” I protested.

  Roz guided me through the plain crew-only corridors at the breathless pace I’d learned was de rigueur for working on a cruise ship. We entered the crew dining room, where a cacophony of noise, languages at every decibel level, greeted us, along with the smells of meat, fish, curry sauce, and spices. A glance around the crowded room intimidated me. The only other place I’d seen this many attractive people in one spot was when the now-defunct event planning firm I once worked for did a party during Fashion Week. Even then, there were some paunchy rich men included. Everyone here was gorgeous. I took a step backward, and stepped on someone’s foot.

  “Oh, sorry,” I apologized, noting my victim was a man wearing pale green medical scrubs. His eyes were a warm brown, hinting at hidden depths.

  “No worries. A bit overwhelming at first, isn’t it? I’m Andrew. I’m one of the registered nurses on the ship.”

  “Sophie. I’m a yoga teacher. I’m trailing Geri this trip.”

  “Ah,” said Andrew, as we started moving through the buffet line. His smile was more distant this time, and he switched to a different line.

  Not sure what that meant, I filled my plate and searched for Roz. She was at a small corner table, with another woman who’d adopted me since I’d come aboard. Harmonia Ocean was the ship’s tarot reader. Also tall and slender, with a jet black pageboy, dark green eyes (totally different from Sebastian’s) rimmed in kohl, and silver chandelier earrings, she looked like an urban fantasy heroine. The rest of us weren’t allowed to wear more than stud earrings or neutral nail polish, but Harmonia often looked like a steampunk gypsy. “The guests expect strange,” she’d said, when I first met her.

  Now, she smiled at me, and patted the chair beside her. “So you’re going to give private yoga lessons to this outing’s resident celebrity. I bet Geri pitched a fit.”

  “She wasn’t too happy about it,” I admitted. “She called me a pipsqueak creampuff.”

  “She doesn’t hate you, or she’d have said something really insulting,” said Roz.

  “How did you know? I only found out about it myself a few minutes ago.”

  Harmonia shrugged. “I’m friends with her cabin steward.”

  “I don’t care about Geri or some overpaid movie star,” said Roz.

  “Why not, sweetie?” Harmonia teased. “Maybe she’ll cast you in her next film. Or maybe her husband will.”

  Roz snorted. “They haven’t come to any of the shows so far.”

  “We’re only three days out,” I said.

  “They don’t even have the professional courtesy to come by the stage and say hello. I’m perfectly happy not to deal with them. No, Sophie, you need
to give me the dirt on that good-looking one.”

  “Which good-looking one?” I asked. “There’s a lot to choose from around here.”

  “I’m not talking about crew,” said Roz. “I mean the guest, the dark-haired man who’s way too good-looking for his own good. Always looks like he’s got a five o’clock shadow? Uses a cane? Late thirties, maybe?”

  I thought back. I knew the guy she meant. He reminded me of some of the models or actors who turned up at the New York yoga studio to take class. Great to look at, but always kept a distance, unless they wanted something. “He’s not taking class,” I said. “I’ve seen him go in and out of the fitness center a few times. He might be working with Hans. Or maybe that massage therapist?”

  “Well. Ask. Hans.” Roz jabbed her fork at me, and I leaned back.

  “Stop giving her a hard time, Roz,” said Harmonia. “Are you settling in, Sophie? Feeling better about the possibilities?”

  “The amount of people is overwhelming,” I said.

  Roz laughed. “I know you have this odd need to name everything and everyone, but that’s never gonna happen here. Hello, too crowded? On a ship this size? I know we’re smaller than most, with only a thousand guests and six hundred crewmembers, but you’ll never learn everybody’s name. Besides, you’re used to crowded. You lived in New York.”

  “Brooklyn,” I corrected. “I worked in New York.” I relented. “I miss my housemates. We were close. We looked after each other. New York’s full of people who left family to create families of choice in the city. Yes, it’s overcrowded, but you sort of stop noticing after awhile. Rush hour on the subway’s never fun, but you come up into the air and everyone kind of spreads out a bit.”

  “Like squeezing a pimple?” Roz suggested.

  Harmonia put down her fork. “Roz, you’re disgusting.”

  She gave us both a delighted grin. “I know.”

  Harmonia shook her head and started eating again. “The ship’s a good place to get over a break-up.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Harmonia laughed. “The ship’s grapevine rivals TMZ’s Twitter feed.”

  “Be glad the details weren’t featured in the crew memo,” said Roz, attacking her salad as though she expected it to attack her first. “The little bit of goodness that’s shoved under our cabin doors every morning at 4 AM. Sometimes we just let them hand it to us as we come in from the night’s festivities.”

  “All it said was that I was shadowing Geri for this ten-day cruise, as a potential yoga substitute for the cruise line.”

  “Members of our posse, London and Tobias, are Google Kings, when we’re in Wi-Fi range,” Roz supplied. “The line’s owner doesn’t want everyone buried in their phones, so I think he scrambles the signal once we get out to sea, but when we can connect, we can find out anything. We know the manager of the New York cruise office knows you from the yoga studio that dumped you, and that your fiancé broke it off on the same day. Did you know your ex-fiancé’s relationship status on Facebook changed from ‘engaged’ to ‘single’ to ‘in a relationship’ while we watched?”

  “He’s sleeping with my former co-worker at the yoga studio.” I didn’t like the misery this brought up again.

  “Ouch!” Harmonia shook her head in sympathy.

  “And you, Missy, don’t have a Facebook page.” Roz waved her soda at me.

  “No, I don’t,” I agreed. “That’s how I like it.”

  “How old are you?” Harmonia asked. “If it’s not a rude question.”

  “I’m twenty-eight.”

  Harmonia nodded. “You’ve hit your Saturn Return. It happens every twenty-eight years. If you’d gotten married right out of college, you’d probably get divorced now. If the timing was a little different, you’d have gone ahead with the marriage to what’s-his-name. Jack. But it wasn’t. Saturn’s about life lessons, shaking things up.”

  “You creep me out when you start talking about astrology,” said Roz. “Even though you’re right way too often.”

  “This Saturn Return thing,” I said. “How long does it last?”

  “Two years, give or take, depending on where Saturn sits in your chart.”

  “I’ve got two years of this to look forward to?” My laugh was only half-humorous. “Gee, thanks. And I get to look forward to it again in twenty-eight years? Is there any way to opt out?”

  “Nope.” Harmonia shook her head, smiling. “But you come out better for it on the other side.”

  “Doesn’t feel so great right now.”

  “Never does,” Harmonia agreed.

  On the way back to the yoga studio from the crew dining room, I got turned around and ended up in an unfamiliar corridor. One of the cabin doors was cracked open, and I heard voices raised in argument. I recognized Geri’s strident tone. I’d been on the receiving end of her tongue-lashing often enough these past few days. Her partner in argument was a man, but I didn’t recognize the voice.

  “It’s not going to happen,” Geri insisted. “You don’t get everything you want. Period. It’s not your rodeo.”

  I hurried away before she could catch me in the hallway and accuse me of spying on her. All I wanted to do for the coming week was keep my head down and do my job.

  Only one person showed up for the Pilates class, a shy teenaged girl named Lydia. I enjoyed working with her, and she was more relaxed and confident by the time we were done. “Can I come back for the yoga class later?” She asked. “I’ve never taken one.”

  “The classes are for all levels,” I explained. “We have variations on poses, depending on your experience. There’s no wrong way; it’s all about your own body. You’re welcome here.”

  “My friends say I spend too much time in my head, with my nose in books. I hate stuff like gym class.”

  “I hated gym class, too,” I admitted. “I love reading. Yoga makes me feel better in everything I do, and it helps me concentrate better when I read.”

  She laughed. “My stepmother says I daydream too much.”

  “I get that a lot, too,” I said. “Are you here with your dad and your stepmother?”

  She nodded. “They’re on their honeymoon. There wasn’t anywhere else for me to go, so here I am. They rented a suite with a balcony, but I want to give them time on their own, you know?”

  “You’re always welcome here,” I said.

  Geri wasn’t back yet, so I turned the room around in preparation for the 3:30 class. When she didn’t turn up by 3:35, I took the risk of teaching it myself. If she came in late and berated me, so be it. But the guests showed up on time, expecting a class; the least I could do was give them a good one.

  I was pleased by the variety of people in class, everything from a couple of women from one of the Red Hat chapters, to some older men, to members of several different wedding parties. There was a woman wearing lots of diamond jewelry, a quiet, handsome man who’d come to every class and taken the same spot on the floor, and an elegant blonde who looked like she stepped out of the jazz age.

  Was it my imagination, or was the atmosphere lighter in the studio without Geri? Was there more laugher, more progress, more relaxation? Or was I being petty and competitive? Incomparable, I named it. But was I putting it in perspective or feeding my own ego?

  No sign of Geri by the end of the class. In defiance of her, I cleaned all the yoga mats and set them out to dry, wondering if I should turn up the air conditioning. I could hear her voice in my head, scolding me that they wouldn’t dry in time, and that what the guests didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. I gathered the yoga blankets used over the past few days and hauled them down to Zero Deck, on the waterline, where the laundry was located.

  “Guest laundry first,” Merhati, the Indonesian woman in charge of the laundry, insisted.

  “I need these for class.” I refused to whine. “Can I leave them here and come back later without losing my place in the queue?”

  “Ever’thing marked?” Merhati asked.
>
  “Yes. I was a Campfire Girl.”

  She missed the reference. “For twenny dollar, I do it all and have it ready this evening by dinner.”

  “Fine.” I pulled a twenty-dollar bill out of my wristband and handed it to her.

  “Do your personal laundry for the same,” Merhati added. “Otherway, you here at three a.m.”

  “When I run out of clothes, I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”

  I headed out to the crew bar, and the crew pool behind it. I ordered an icy lemon-lime soda from the bar and took it outside to the crew pool. When I was hired, I was told that this outing was an anomaly, a ten-day cruise, rather than the usual seven days. We’d spent the first couple of days out at sea, no island stops or tourist excursions. Just water and sun. Now, we headed for the Bahamas and the excursions. In spite of Geri’s unfriendliness and the hectic pace, I was glad I was here, and not pining for my ex and my job in New York.

  I didn’t see Geri near the pool or in the crew dining room as I headed back to the yoga studio. She didn’t show up for the 6:30 class, so, once again, I took it over. I enjoyed it, and a part of me thought I wouldn’t mind doing this as a real job, as long as Geri wasn’t around to look over my shoulder.

  But where was she? Sulking somewhere. Angry that I was taking over teaching Kristina Murray. I hadn’t asked for a VIP assignment. I’d worked with a handful of so-called “celebrities” in my time. The most talented were usually the nicest and most down-to-earth. The marginal ones knew, deep down, that they couldn’t go the distance, and took it out on everyone around them.

  I cleaned the yoga mats again; this time, they’d have time to dry overnight. I gathered the latest pile of yoga blankets, wondered if I could get reimbursed for what it cost me to get them washed, and locked the studio, glad Hans had insisted that both of us have keys.

  I headed back down to the laundry, tripping on the top step down to Zero Deck from the deck above it. I’d traveled up and down the miles of crew stairs enough where I should have expected that weird step, but every time, I snagged my foot and had to catch myself on the rail. I steadied myself without dropping anything, and made it back to the laundry room, where I dumped the next load of blankets, handed Merhati another twenty, and picked up the ones I’d left earlier. At least they were perfectly folded, although the stack was so high, I couldn’t see where I was going.