by Ava Dunne
“You want company, or do you want to explore on your own?” Harmonia, dressed in a black and wine red sundress, strappy black sandals, and a large straw hat, joined me as I left the ship.
“I’d love company,” I said, “although I’ve got to run a few errands. I’ve never been to Nassau before.”
“It’s a lot of fun,” said Harmonia, “if you know where to go.”
“I’ve read a stack of guidebooks, but I’d love your guidance.”
“We’ll do fun stuff.” She looked at my face. “We’re going to get you a hat at some point or you’ll be burnt to a crisp, no matter how much sunscreen you’ve got on.”
“I can’t believe how huge this wharf is,” I looked around. “I expected something, I don’t know, cute.”
“Prince George Wharf can accommodate up to seven cruise ships at a time,” said Harmonia. “There are only four in today, but when every slip is full, it’s pandemonium.”
“It looks pretty busy.” I inhaled the familiar smell of oil over which was layered fried food, bougainvillea, and an array of artificial tropical scents wafting out from souvenir stands to lure in tourists.
“Nassau’s a busy place.” Harmonia took my elbow to steer me through the Festival Palace Welcome Center. The bright colors on the walls and multi-colored artisan stalls distracted me, but Harmonia kept us moving. I saw Duncan walking with Nicolette and her dance partner. Nicolette had her hand on Duncan’s arm. It gave me a twinge.
Then, my eye was caught by movement at one of the artisan stalls, one painted a bright purple. I recognized Viktor Horvat in intense conversation with the dancer from the Supper Club, and another man I didn’t recognize.
“Sophie?”
“Hmm?” I turned back to Harmonia.
“Downtown’s only a couple of minutes’ walk. Is there any one thing you really want to see here?”
I grinned. “The Pirate Museum.”
“Okay,” said Harmonia, “but first you have to see the Junkanoo Expo. Junkanoo is something unique to the Bahamas, and the costumes are amazing.”
…
“That was so much more fun than I expected,” I enthused. We migrated to the stalls of the Straw Market. The heat inside the tent and the cacophony of noise started to press in on me, but I didn’t want to miss a moment of the experience.
“I thought you didn’t like to shop,” Harmonia teased, pointing to the colorful tote bags I had bought and filled with purchases.
“I don’t,” I insisted. “But shopping today is like calories on vacation. It doesn’t count. Besides, I don’t know if or when I’ll be through here again, and I want to buy gifts for family and friends. That way, if I stay, I don’t have to do it again.” I paid for a couple of CDs by local musicians; I could use them for yoga on the ship and beyond. “Thanks for insisting I write and mail the postcards and gifts right there in the moment.”
“My first few weeks on the ship, I accumulated way too much unsent mail,” Harmonia confided, fingering some brightly-patterned scarves. “I love that hat on you.”
I grinned, pleased at my choice of straw hat with an aqua-and-orange-colored band. “Thanks. It makes me feel sassy.”
“Love that word,” Harmonia beamed. “It suits you to a T.”
I danced a joking step in response and stopped when I felt an uncomfortable prickle along the back of my neck. I felt watched. There were so many people in the stalls, and it was clear I was a tourist. Of course I was watched! I let my New York City smarts kick in, clutched my purse closer to my body, and pretended to peruse an assortment of large conch shells. I’d already bought one, at another stall, that was far too big for my room, but I couldn’t help it — it spoke to me and I had to have it. It was wrapped in one of my bags in a dark purple sundress batiked with a moon and stars. I thought of Geri. “Could Geri be hanging around as a ghost?” I asked.
Harmonia put down a pair of sandals embellished with frangipani blossoms. “Did something weird happen?”
“No.” I shook my head. “That last time I passed the staircase where she died, I noticed there’s no memorial for her. She died. It’s behind the ‘employees only’ door. It wouldn’t upset the passengers.” I rolled my eyes, self-correcting, “Guests.”
“Too much foot traffic.”
“Someone could slap a photograph on the wall and put some flowers on the floor beneath it.”
“No one wants to.” Harmonia gave a half-shrug. “I know that’s harsh, but it’s the truth.”
“It got me wondering if her ghost hung around the ship. Because she died violently.”
Harmonia shook her head. “I haven’t felt anything. I’ve had dealings with ghosts before, so I would.” She gazed at me. “If you put up a memorial, someone’s going to tear it down. It’s unfortunate, but don’t dwell on it. It might interfere with your shopping.”
I made the effort to follow her lead, and forced myself to smile. “I found the drying racks I wanted for my yoga mats. I loved the Pirate Museum, learning about Anne Bonny and Mary Read. I’ve kind of developed a crush on Woodes Rogers, even though he’s been dead for a couple hundred years.”
Harmonia laughed. “He was a fascinating man, and certainly knew on which side his bread was buttered, so he played both sides to the middle. I wonder if he was really as good looking as those portraits, or if the artist was kissing his ass to get paid more.”
“I get the feeling asses weren’t the only things kissed back then,” I said. “Gamma Batchelder will love the Junkanoo costume book, and so will my housemate, Bianca. She can use it for inspiration in her performance art. The colors and the detail on those costumes are amazing, the feathers and the sequins. How can they move in something that big?”
“Good construction,” said Harmonia. “Let’s have lunch. I’m starving. We’ll take the water taxi over to Paradise Island. I know a quiet little restaurant there, where we can indulge in traditional Bahamian cuisine in beautiful surroundings.”
“That sounds wonderful.” I wanted to see everything possible in the allotted time.
Harmonia guided us out of the stifling tent marketplace. It was a quick walk to the water taxi. As we waited in line, I felt pressure on my back and whirled, but only saw another tourist shoving past, in a hurry. I sniffed the air. A mixture of floral and food scents, but no rosemary. I tried to shake off the paranoia. When the line moved forward, I settled into the low, covered boat, holding my hat in place with one hand so it wouldn’t blow off.
“Eleuthera is my favorite island with Crooked Island a close second,” Harmonia admitted, “but when we’ve only got a few hours, I like to get away from the hustle and bustle of Nassau and come to Paradise.” She leaned back, eyes closed, enjoying the short trip across the bay. “That and the pink beaches over on Harbor Island.”
“Pink beaches?” I perked up. The smells of human sweat and fried food were replaced with the scent of salt water.
“Have to wait until our next stop here,” said Harmonia.
“I hope there is a next time,” I said. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be fired.” I bit my lip. “I was mean to the restaurant manager, Ajeet, last night, and said terrible things to him when he reamed me for sneaking in to see Roz perform.”
“Ajeet likes to stick his nose in where it doesn’t belong,” said Harmonia. “He dislikes Americans. Thinks we’re soft and entitled.”
“Still,” I said, “I was mean to him and out of line. I acted like Geri.”
“You’re human,” said Harmonia. “Ajeet got under your skin. Forgive yourself.”
On the shore of Paradise Island, Harmonia negotiated with a taxi driver to drive us to the restaurant. “The Cloisters are one of the best-known attractions on this island,” she said, gesturing out of the window.
“Cloisters? Like the one we’ve got in Manhattan? That was one my favorite spots.”
“Similar, and different,” said Harmonia. “The stone is from the twelfth century, but it was shipped here from Lourdes in the 1920s
by William Randolph Hearst — yes, that Hearst. It wasn’t moved to its current location until the 1960s, by Huntington Hartford, the A & P food store heir, who bought the island and developed it as a resort. It was originally called Hog Island.” She pointed at the One & Only Ocean Club. “It’s in the Versailles Gardens of this establishment. The architecture is stunning, of course, but the statues are heartbreakingly beautiful. Cosimo Allegeny threw us a special party there on New Year’s Eve a few years ago. He hired performers to dress as the statues and work the party. After a few drinks, some of our crew couldn’t tell the difference between the statues and the actors!”
“So you’ve met Cosimo Allegheny?” I worked to keep my tone casual. “When Rowena hired me, I tried to do some research. He’s mysterious.”
“Private,” Harmonia corrected. “Rich and gorgeous. London swears Cosimo pays someone to scrub his information from the internet regularly. He’s a recluse, who turns up on the ship when least expected.”
“The video they made me watch at the office says he named the ships after his daughters, but doesn’t mention his wife.”
“Nothing mentions his wife,” said Harmonia. “The girls must have had mothers, but was it the same woman? Different women? Speculating about Cosimo Allegheny is a favorite party game on the ship, because he’s so unique.”
“What makes Allegheny different from other people who own or run cruise lines?”
“He came up through the ranks. He started working in the dining room of another line, worked his way up, went into some sort of business where he made a ton of money, and started his own cruise line. He learned how he did and did not want to do things by working every job on a ship. He gives a damn.”
We ate at a small restaurant with a stunning view of the aquamarine waters. Pots of bougainvillea, allamanda, and frangipani hovered near us scenting the air with a heady mixture of florals. The blue-purple flowers of the lignum vitae posed on the landscaped area near the restaurant. The waiter told us it was nicknamed the “iron tree” because the wood wouldn’t float. Closer to the beach grew sea-grape trees. I’d never heard of them before; they were beautiful.
“How about if I order for both of us?” Harmonia offered.
“Great,” I said. “I wouldn’t know what to order.”
Harmonia ordered conch, rock lobster, souse soup, peas ‘n rice, and potato salad, along with a drink called Sky Juice that nearly knocked me out of my chair.
“This is wonderful,” I said, between bites. “So many flavors in everything — what’s in the souse?”
“Water, onions, lime juice, celery, peppers, and oxtail,” she replied.
“I’ve never had conch before, either,” I continued, “and it’s good. It’s a little chewy, kind of like clams or calamari, but still distinct.”
“Conch is one of those things you should only eat where it’s native,” Harmonia stated. “I wouldn’t dare order it back home in Chicago.”
Harmonia insisted on paying for the lunch, and I followed her out of the restaurant, a bit unsteady. The Sky Juice packed a punch. She arranged for another taxi to take us to the One & Only Ocean Club, where we had the chance to wander the gardens and look at the cloister. The beauty helped sober me up.
I stared at the figure in the center of the structure, the drape of the gown, the bent head. “She looks so sad, and the greenery around her is so pretty. Look at the angle of her hand. I feel as though I want to run up to her and hold it, to comfort her.”
“The sculptor knew what he was doing,” Harmonia agreed.
“I wonder if he had the idea for it and someone modeled, or if he had someone model, but used the emotion, the sadness of someone he knew.”
“It’s feminine sadness,” said Harmonia. “The statue’s name is Silence.” I felt a knot of tension release at the knowledge of the name. “Created by an American named Dick Reid, not to be confused with the Scottish sculptor William Reid Dick.”
“She’s exquisite,” I breathed. We kept our voices soft in the presence of her beauty and her sadness.
We split up and wandered, each deep in solitary thoughts. I stood in the gazebo, staring up at its beautifully-latticed domed top. I pulled my journal out of my purse and made a few sketches in it. I took photos, but I wanted to feel the intimacy of drawing a sketch and call up those feelings in the future: The caress of the wind on my skin, the scent of blooms in the air. I wondered if Geri ever walked these gardens, and what Geri thought when she did. Did she feel Silence’s sadness? Or roll her eyes and judge her for not making more of her pain?
I was tempted to drop down into the well-manicured grass, using it as a mat, and do asanas. Instead, I stood still, invoking Mountain Pose, and trying to absorb the sense of the place. I wanted to commune with the devas, the spirits of place. How would it feel to live in this beauty every day? Was it possible to remain aware and grateful? Or would it get so familiar that one stopped noticing? Wasn’t the point of an ongoing yoga practice to be in the moment and remember to give thanks?
“Geri wasn’t the type to enjoy this,” Harmonia said, waking me from my reverie.
“She missed out.”
“Now she misses everything,” Harmonia said, in a quiet voice, and we both sent her spirit wishes for peace.
Another taxi back to the water taxi, and then across to Nassau. Harmonia pointed to a brightly-painted building with 80′s music blaring from it. “We have to stop there,” she said. “The infamous Senor Frog’s. We can see our ship from it, for goodness’s sake. Everyone will gather there before heading back on board.”
I wasn’t sure I could stand anything more to drink, but I followed Harmonia through the thickening crowd. I had that odd feeling again of being watched, and sensed something heavy and threatening coming up behind us. Harmonia slowed and stiffened. She jerked backwards and sideways, yanking me by the arm out of the way, as a large, dark man hurtled past, knocking into a group of tourists. The tourists scattered and turned to scold him. He murmured apologies and turned to glare at us. I was frozen, not capable of taking action. Harmonia, still holding my arm with her left hand, raised her right in front of her face and slowly pointed her index finger at the man. His eyes widened, and he darted into the crowd.
“What was that about?” I asked.
“Warning,” said Harmonia.
“What was he trying to warn us about?”
“I was warning him,” Harmonia emphasized. “He sure as hell didn’t have our well-being at heart, and I let him know that, if he tried to pull anything again, there would be consequences. Islanders pay attention to that type of communication.”
I shivered. “Let’s get inside the restaurant.” I hesitated. “Thank you, Harmonia. I thought something was squirrelly, but I couldn’t figure it out fast enough.”
“No problem, goes with the job,” said Harmonia.
She didn’t just read a few books and take a couple of classes, I realized. Harmonia is the real deal.
We walked into the packed restaurant and found a group of our cruise colleagues at a big table on the covered deck overlooking the water. Harmonia dropped into the lap of a handsome man who looked like a male version of Daciana and introduced himself as her twin brother, Costel. He worked in the main dining room of the Charisma.
Sebastian was there, looking casual in dark jeans and a short-sleeved, pale blue shirt, a straw hat plopped on his head. He shifted, offering me half his chair. “There’s room,” he said, “if you don’t mind cozy.”
“That’s fine.” I perched beside him.
“What are those pointy things sticking out of your bag?”
“Drying racks,” I replied. “For towels? Only I’m going to use them for the yoga mats.”
“Be careful; you’ll poke someone’s eye out with those. Or worse.” He grinned and a wave of giddy happiness swept over me. He ordered another beer for himself and a rum punch for me.
“If I drink any more, I’ll fall into the harbor,” I protested.
; “Don’t worry, I’ll fish you out,” Sebastian assured me. “I won’t let you drown.”
“I didn’t realize there were so many pickpockets and purse snatchers around,” I said, and told him what happened out front with Harmonia.
Sebastian frowned. “This area’s usually pretty safe, even late at night. But there are thieves everywhere. Be careful, okay?”
“I will.” I nodded. “I was so excited by spending a few hours as a tourist instead of as a staff member, I let my New York City guard down.”
A deluge of entertainment staff joined us. I found one of the dancers beside me. I reached into memory. Her name was Lorna. “Do you miss Geri?” I asked.
“Yes,” Lorna replied. “I know people say awful things about her, but she was rarely nasty to me. We laughed a lot. I’m an only child, and she lost her family when she was young. I think we were both looking for someone to play sister with.”
“Did she confide in you about her side business?”
“Side business?” Lorna stared at me, confused. “Was she seeing private clients without giving the ship its cut?”
Either Lorna was an exceptional actress, or she didn’t know. “I’m not sure,” I said. “But it’s nice to hear something positive about Geri for a change.”
“It’s nice someone cares enough to ask.”
Another group from the ship joined us, the group rearranged as more chairs were pulled in, and the waiter dropped off our drinks. Andrew was part of the group, and sat behind Sebastian and me. I twisted a bit, so I didn’t have my back to him. Further down the table, the dancer who’d partnered Nicolette leaned over to whisper to the woman beside him. The gesture was so intimate, I felt like an intruder. Nicolette and Duncan weren’t around. I wondered if they were together. I glanced over at Harmonia, still sitting on Costel’s lap. He had his head tucked in the crook of her neck, an arm around her, holding her in place, tracing patterns on her thigh as she talked to a couple of people I recognized, but couldn’t name. Costel’s repetitive gesture was intimate and suggestive. I was aware of the heat of Sebastian’s arm, its light touch against mine on the table. I closed my eyes, feeling dizzy.