Savasana at Sea

by Ava Dunne

  He looked out the window for a moment, and I enjoyed the profile, the long lashes, the curve of the jaw. He looked back at me. “Detective Cooke told me you heard an argument between Geri and someone?”

  “Yes, the afternoon she died. I forgot to mention it in all the chaos.”

  “You’re not sure where?”

  “On the top end of the stairs, probably a crew deck. Not sure if it was A or B.”

  “Male or female?”

  “I think male. The voice was softer than Geri’s, and a little lower. But I don’t know most people well enough to recognize them by their voices.”

  “Thank you. Detective Cooke and I are sharing information and working together to answer all the questions around Geri’s death, but I’d still appreciate it if you’d follow protocol and come to me first with something like this.”

  I flushed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”

  “We have to work within the structure, or the ship can’t run.”

  “I understand. I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted.” He gave me a genuine smile and left.

  Even though it was accepted, I still felt the chastisement.

  …

  We had about twenty people for the 3:30, and it flowed smoothly. I cleaned the mats and decided to stay in the meditation room until it was time for the 6:30. It seemed best to let as much talk die down as possible in the crew dining room, although I’d have to face them someday. Or starve.

  The woman I’d secretly nicknamed “Jazz Baby” arrived early, in pale blue yoga clothes the exact shade of her eyes. Her pale pink lipstick matched her nail polish. “This is such a lovely studio,” she said. “I’m Stella Orsini.”

  “Sophie Batchelder.”

  “My husband, Bartholomew, and I are absolute cruise whores, but we’ve never travelled with the Diamond Line before. The ship is beautiful. There’s so much detail work in the cabins.”

  You’d never know it from the crew cabins, I thought. “I’m new to the line myself.”

  “We’ll have to find a time to steal away and chat,” said Stella. “I do love behind-the-scenes stories.”

  Warning bells rang in my head. “Are you a reporter?”

  No, darling.” Stella gave a delicate shudder. “Not fond of the Fourth Estate. Can’t be bothered to ferret out the truth most of the time. Whatever happened to responsible journalism?” She noted the students filing in. “But that’s a conversation for another day. Perhaps in the Tiki Bar, where my darling husband has taken up residence.” She took her place on the mat and began a series of sun salutations.

  Lydia was there, along with Bridey, one of the older Red Hat women. They were making fast friends, and I hoped it would soothe Lydia’s loneliness. Neil was there, as well as members of both bridal parties, a spry older man, and an ex-marine named Luke, travelling with his family to reconnect. His therapist recommended yoga as part of his PTSD treatment.

  Two women jockeyed for the same spot on the floor, an older woman stared gasping for air during a modified Goddess pose, another woman as afraid to try any pose for fear she “couldn’t” do it, and one woman burst into tears during savasana.

  I was satisfied with the way I rose to each challenge, soothing or encouraging as the situation required. There was always room for improvement, but it was a good start.

  “I’m not sure the mat is going to be clean enough for me to use tomorrow,” the sanitation-conscious woman complained, frowning at the bottle of mat cleaner.

  “You’re free to bring your own mat,” I said. “That way, you have control over its use. You can buy a basic one down here in the fitness shop, or one that suits you better upstairs in the boutique.”

  “I booked an all-inclusive cruise,” she sniffed. “That means everything is provided and I don’t have to do any work. I work hard enough in my day-to-day life. This is my vacation.“

  “I understand completely.” I tried a different tack. “I assure you the mats will be conscientiously cleaned between every use.”

  “I guess that will have to do.” The woman turned on the heel of her bare foot and stalked to the rows of shoes in the outer room.

  “Not exactly life of the party, is she?” Stella commented.

  Neil watched her go and shook his head. “You’re going to run into a few of those on every ship,” he said. “People who think paying for a cruise means they bought the damn ship. Don’t let it bother you.”

  “I won’t,” I promised. “Thanks for telling Amy you like the class.”

  “You’re a much better teacher than Geri,” he said, and left.

  “If I can’t sleep, is it okay if I come down and use the meditation room?” Luke asked.

  “Sure,” I said. “You’re welcome any time.”

  He smiled. Some of the tension had left his muscular frame during class. I hoped he’d return.

  I cleaned the mats, stacked blocks, put away supplies. I had enough yoga blankets to make it through until tomorrow. I shut off the lights and locked the door. I turned to find Jacques directly behind me, and gave a little yelp of surprise at his proximity.

  “How’d it go with Kristina Murray?”

  “Fine, I think.”

  “See it stays that way.” He paused. “People like your classes. Keep up the good work.” He turned and padded back to the spa.

  “Um, thank you?” I hazarded. He flapped his hand in response, not looking back.

  I forced myself to brave the din of the dining room. Andrew, the nurse, was in line behind me. “Shame about Geri,” he said.

  “I’m trying to decide if I wish I’d known her better, or glad I didn’t,” I said. “She seems to have been a polarizing person around here.”

  “Most people are, to some extent,” said Andrew. “You really didn’t know her before this cruise?”

  “No.”

  “That’s odd. Strange you’d jump right into her job without knowing her.”

  The woman in front of me turned and gave me a glare of an once-over. “You’re taking Geri’s place? Planning to pick up where she left off?”

  “I think my style is a little different.”

  “That doesn’t reassure me.” The woman turned back and continued to heap her plate.

  I wanted to ask Andrew what that was about, but he was gone. I contented myself with piling my plate with salad, beef empanadas, chicken with rice, and a lemon pudding. I grabbed a bottle of water, spotted Roz and Harmonia sitting with a woman named Becky Cheung and a man named Bassio. I joined them.

  Becky hailed from Hong Kong; she and her roommate shared the bathroom with Angie and me. She was a blackjack dealer in the casino, and wore her uniform of black pants and vest, white shirt, and the nametag shaped like the Ace of Hearts. Bassio worked as a host in the Supper Club and was good friends with both Roz and Harmonia. Bassio was the stereotype of a gorgeous Italian man, with dark hair a tad longer than conventional, cheekbones so beautiful they looked carved, and a male-model sexy body. Not to mention that I coveted those long, dark eyelashes. Even longer than Chief Bakshi’s. I spent a pleasant moment in a fantasy of comparing their eyelashes before Roz broke in.

  “What was that cow Nicolette giving you a hard time about?” Roz asked. “Want me to kick her in the big dance number tonight?”

  “That was Nicolette?” I remembered Roz making disparaging comments about her as we drank in her cabin the previous night.

  “Yes. Do you see why I hate her?”

  “She’s a bit abrupt.” I dug into my food. One of the pleasant surprises was how well they fed us on the ship, and how good it tasted.

  “She’s a nasty bovine,” Roz retorted.

  “How’d the classes go?” Harmonia asked.

  “Pretty well. More men showed up than I expected.”

  Harmonia smiled. “They’re checking out rumors of the hot new yoga instructor. And I don’t mean hot as in ‘Bikram’.”

  I gave an uncomfortable laugh. “No one’s there to check
me out.”

  “Course they are,” said Roz.

  Bassio gave a low, sexy laugh. “Trust me, gorgeous, they are. I overheard some talk in the club last night.”

  “About me?” My cheeks pinked.

  “About the cute new yoga teacher who knows what she’s doing and is poetry in motion to watch.” He winked at me. “Men and women are talking about you.”

  “Always good to have options,” said Becky.

  “I’m in the look, don’t touch mode right now,” I retorted.

  “The test is, will they stay? They will, if you’re good,” said Roz. “Are you coming to see the show?”

  “I hope so. I want to sneak in and stand at the back one night.”

  “It’s part comedy, part musical revue, part original musical,” said Roz. “The creative team comes up with a new show specific to each ship in the fleet and changes it up each season.”

  “It’s worth seeing,” said Harmonia. “Slow down eating, Becky, you’ll throw up if you eat that fast.”

  “I have a thirty minute break, and it takes twelve minutes to get here from the casino and twelve minutes to get back again.” Becky shoved a lock of hair behind her ear and kept eating.

  “You’ll get in trouble if you puke on the guests.”

  “At least they feed us well,” I said.

  “Diamond doesn’t toss leftovers overboard, the way most cruise ships do,” said Harmonia. “The ship composts.”

  They started talking about people on board I didn’t know, and several people stopped by the table, both to talk and to stare at me with curiosity. I ate, mostly in silence, listening to the swirl of voices around me, trying to absorb it all. I felt simultaneously absent and present. After the meal, as everyone rushed off to their next commitment, I was at a loose end.

  I returned to the cabin I shared with Angie, grateful I could locate it. It was a typical crew cabin on the B deck. The room was small, about eighty feet square, with a bunk against a wall and a narrow space for us to maneuver in between. Storage drawers were under the bunks, along with one small desk Angie and I shared against the wall between our beds (where, normally, a window would be), a tiny television mounted on the wall above the desk, and two small closets. There was no window. A second door, partially open, showed a cramped bathroom that we shared with the girls in the cabin next door: Becky who worked in the Casino, and Hillary (from South Africa), a lifeguard. All of our schedules were different, which meant we weren’t fighting over the tiny space. It reminded me of my first college dorm room, but that one had a window. I missed the natural light.

  In spite of the small space, it was well-organized, and as long as I stayed organized, everything would fit. I hadn’t brought many clothes with me, and I looked with longing at the stack of books I’d brought, realizing I wouldn’t have time to read them. I pulled out the turquoise-covered diary Bianca gave me as a going away present and wrote down everything I could remember, hoping I’d think of something else.

  Is it because you want to track down Duncan Cooke on the Topaz Deck? A little voice in my head asked. Or impress Dhruv Bakshi?

  I pushed the voice away. I finished my entry, put the diary back in my suitcase in the under-bed drawer, and locked the suitcase. I liked Angie, but the diary remained private space. With all of us in such close proximity, I needed something separate and solitary.

  I pulled out my phone. No signal, but I could re-read the email messages I’d downloaded while we were still in range. Supportive messages from family and friends about the cancelled wedding. It felt like months had passed, not days. My housemates Fawn and Bianca assured me all the cancellations were complete. Jack had sent a check covering half of all the deposits we wouldn’t get back, and Fawn put it in my account.

  I realized this was the first time I’d even thought about Jack since I boarded the boat, other to notice how his sarcasm was similar to Sebastian’s. Only now that I’d spent some time with Sebastian, I started to see how different the two men were.

  I re-read a message from my sister, Edwina. “Jack was a jerk, and you’re better off without him. I’m sorry you’re hurting and I can’t fix it. I hate it when you’re hurt. Have an excellent cruise ship adventure. Work hard, play harder. Take chances. I LOVE you. Edwina.”

  When I first received the message, I’d checked the signature and email address twice to see if someone else in the family had pulled a prank. But it was from my truculent sister. She’d sent it from the dig she was on in South America. My brother Rick, who did something mysterious in DC that he never talked about, offered to “take care of things,” adding it was only half a joke. I’d responded fast, reassuring him it wasn’t worth the bother.

  Jack’s younger sister, Cassidy, emailed, begging me not to break off all contact. I didn’t know how to respond. I adored Cassidy, but it was too soon after the break-up to think about salvaging relationships with Jack’s family. I left the email unanswered. I had an excuse now that we were out of Wi-Fi range, but eventually, I’d have to make a decision. I needed time and space away from all of them. Maybe, in the future, Cassidy and I could rebuild our friendship, but I didn’t feel I could deal with her right now.

  Remembering friends and family made me even more restless, so I wandered up to the crew bar. The close quarters and cigarette smoke were a shock every time I entered. I’d never been a smoker; hated it even when I tried it as a teenager. Besides, I never looked cool with a cigarette in my hand; I looked like I was trying too hard. I was used to smoke-free environments, and the guest side of the ship was smoke-free, with only one small area of an outside deck set aside for smokers. Being indoors with a large group of people who chain-smoked was a jolt.

  On a whim, I ordered a cosmopolitan from the bar and took it outside to the crew pool. It was dark out here, because the bridge overlooked it. Therefore, no lights were used outside at night so the bridge crew could see the water. It was easier to breathe out here and less crowded. I found a chair, dropped into it, and tried to enjoy the moment. Be here now, I reminded myself.

  “How’s your cruise ship experience so far?” Sebastian’s voice floated across the dark as he settled into a chair beside mine.

  “Pre-or-post finding a body?” I retorted.

  He laughed, and considered. “Either. Both. Are you coming to terms with Geri’s death?”

  “I’m trying,” I said. “I hate to say it, but the classes are more relaxed without her. More people are showing up, but maybe they’re being macabre.”

  “They don’t know she’s dead,” Sebastian reminded. “They think she left.”

  “Do they?” I asked. “Can you really keep something like that quiet? Don’t Chief Bakshi and that detective have to talk to people who were in Geri’s classes, in case one of them had something to do with it?”

  “You don’t think it’s an accident?”

  “I don’t know. Amy seems to think I pushed her. I didn’t.”

  “I know that. I was there. There’s no way you could have gotten back up—” Sebastian sighed. “It doesn’t matter. How about the rest of working here?”

  “A bit of an adjustment.”

  “It is,” he agreed. “I remember when I started, I thought my head was going to explode. I was trying to learn everything about the job; I was trying to remember everyone’s name. I finally gave up on the names and just smiled a lot.” He chuckled. “Once I got to know people and didn’t have to grin like a fool all day, some were surprised.”

  “I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings by not remembering them or calling them the wrong name.”

  “It happens.” Sebastian shrugged. “We had a waitress six months ago who called all the women ‘Kate’ and all the men ‘Chet’. Interesting times.” He looked at me. “Anyone giving you a hard time about hopping on without going through the full training program?”

  “Everyone knows that?”

  “How could they not? It’s obvious you didn’t transfer from another ship. Or another cruise line
. You don’t have the cruise crust.”

  “That sounds like a communicable disease.”

  “It’s the thick skin we have to develop if we’re going to survive for a full contract, or longer,” said Sebastian. “Jobs on cruise ships are competitive. It’s hard to get one. Yet we can’t seem to keep a yoga instructor, or transfer one from another ship. The yoga instructor on the Chantal is teaching with a broken arm. The instructor on the Heather said she’d rather quit the line than switch ships.”

  “Does Charisma have that bad a reputation?”

  “No, but this cruise line eats yoga instructors and spits them out, so when one puts her foot down, they have to listen. That’s why Geri got away with as much as she did. Remember that if anyone gives you trouble.”

  “Thanks, I will. How did the instructor on Chantal break her arm?”

  Sebastian grinned. “Rumor has it she was doing something kinky with her boyfriend in one of those exercise inversion slings. But no one really knows.”

  I laughed. “Sounds painful.”

  “What made you sign on with us?”

  “I needed a change,” I said. “I lost my job and my fiancé in one day. Rowena offered me the chance to trail, and it seemed like a good way to clear my head for a couple of weeks. Away from the pitying glances and people who don’t know what to say. Don’t get me wrong, I love teaching yoga. It’s the most joyful job I’ve ever had. Teaching on the water was too good an opportunity to pass up.”

  “You won’t have time to think about anything, much less clear your head,” Sebastian offered. “Rowena Callahan’s good people.”

  “You know her?”

  “Not well. But I like and respect what I know so far.”

  “Maybe I’m procrastinating so I don’t have to deal with my new life,” I countered.

  “I’m sorry about the break-up,” said Sebastian. “That’s difficult.”

  “It is,” I agreed. “A few years down the line, maybe it’ll all make sense and I’ll see it was for the best. But right now, it really sucks.”

  “There are plenty of people on the ship who’ll console you.”