Under the Ice

by Aaron Paul Lazar

  Had he shoved me for revenge? Or was it simply the rocking of the ship that made him bump him into me?

  But the blow had felt like it was meant for me.

  I shivered, staring at the Canadian and United States flags whipping in the wind overhead. My corduroy shirt and bulky sweater were no match for the wet air that blasted my hair straight back. One of the two men on deck helped me to my feet, and I thanked him and staggered back indoors.

  My hands still burned from the cold.

  I checked around the deck again, but didn’t see my daughter. She must’ve gone back to our seats, pouting and mad at me for ruining her life.

  I got in line at the cafeteria, scanning the menu. Sandwiches, hotdogs, hamburgers, salads. Chips, chocolate chip cookies, ice cream. I ordered three cups of hot chocolate and paid with stiff hands still trembling from the cold.

  I asked the server to put an ice cube in Johnny’s cup with extra whipped cream and paid the cashier. Balancing three steaming Styrofoam cups in the tray, I returned to our seats.

  There was Shelby, curled up with a book. I walked past her. She didn’t look up.

  Camille jumped up when I reached my seat and helped with the tray. “Honey? What happened? You’re all wet.”

  “I went out to see the back deck,” I said evenly. “Should’ve brought my coat.” I peeled off my soggy sweater, then slid into my parka to warm up.

  Camille handed the hot chocolate to Johnny and Siegfried, then turned to her daughter, her voice sweet and lilting. “Shelby? Do you want this one?”

  Shelby didn’t look up. “No thanks. It has whole milk in it, doesn’t it?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Whipped cream, I think.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I knew it. No, thanks. You drink it.”

  I hated the new obsession Shelby had with calories. It scared me. But I hated her attitude even worse. It stung. And the subterfuge was killing me.

  “Shelby,” I said. “Who were you talking to on the deck?”

  She sighed, closed her book, and shot me daggers. “What difference does it make, Gus?”

  Camille’s eyes widened.

  “Well, whoever he was, he knocked me down on the way out.”

  “What?” Camille said. “What are you talking about? Who knocked you down?” Her eyes ping-ponged between the two of us. “What’s going on?”

  Shelby put her iPod earplug in and dismissed the comment with a shake of her head. “I doubt it,” she said.

  Camille’s eyes flared. “Honey?”

  I shook my head. “Later, okay?”

  Siegfried glanced at us with concern. “Professor? Everything okay?”

  “It will be, Sig. No worries.”

  He didn’t believe me, but returned to tend to Johnny’s endless questions. I drank the hot chocolate quickly and rose again. “Restroom,” I said, answering the look in Camille’s eyes. “Back in a flash.”

  I began to systematically walk the aisles again, looking for Rolf. After ten minutes of searching, I gave up. If it was Rolf, he was either hiding somewhere or down below with the cars. I scratched my head, took one look in each of the restrooms on my deck, and headed back to our seats. The phantom had disappeared.

  Chapter 46

  We arrived at the Toronto terminal in two hours. While waiting in the queue for Customs, I scanned the crowd. The line was long and serpentine, so as frustrating as it was, I couldn’t see everyone. There had been close to seven hundred people on board.

  Johnny’s excitement grew when we headed down the stairs outside the terminal and stared at the Toronto skyline. Siegfried and I scoured the pile of luggage on the tarmac and found our bags. I flagged down a taxi and we squeezed inside, with Johnny on Camille’s lap and Siegfried in the front.

  “Delta Chelsea, please,” I said to the black man behind the wheel.

  He spoke with a pleasing Jamaican accent. “All dee Amedicans go dehr,” he crooned, flashing bright white teeth in the mirror.

  “That so? We love it,” I said.

  “Dey have dee good deals,” he said, chuckling.

  I nodded. “They advertise all the time on the Rochester stations. You’d think that was the only hotel in Toronto.”

  We wove in and out of traffic and finally merged onto Yonge Street. Our driver shook his colorful beaded braids and chatted nonstop. We received tips on the best shows in town and his favorite restaurants. Heading north through heavy traffic, we passed an eclectic collection of stores and restaurants. In spite of the cold, the sidewalks were filled with winter shoppers. Some vendors even braved the weather in temporary booths warmed by kerosene heaters. Vapor coated the inside windows of bakeries and coffee shops where patrons crowded to warm their hands over steaming mugs. The sun shone white on the amalgam of architectural styles. Within twenty minutes, our driver pulled up under the covered entrance to the hotel.

  I tipped him well and joined the people surging around the check-in desk. Today was Wednesday. I wondered how crowded it would be on the weekend.

  Siegfried and Camille stood with Johnny and Shelby off to the side, away from the milling guests. Sig held Johnny up to study the games and toys displayed in the gift shop window. A white board advertised menus. Shelby and Camille ducked inside to check out the cafeteria-style offerings.

  When I finally finished checking in, Camille found the elevator and we herded the family inside. Shelby leaned against the wall in apparent boredom. Johnny pushed the button for the tenth floor, and we climbed swiftly. The boy’s eyes widened and he gripped my hand, looking up at me for reassurance.

  “It’s okay, buddy. That’s the way it’s supposed to feel. Do you feel like you left your tummy on the ground floor?”

  He nodded and swallowed hard. “Uh-huh.”

  “Here we are,” I said, ushering him from the elevator. “Come on. Let’s find our room.”

  The suite was fitted with two king-sized beds, a pullout queen-sized couch, a bathroom, and a tiny kitchenette with a refrigerator, stove, and sink. The view outside the window seemed animated, strutting colorful neon lights of Yonge Street and hundreds of people who massed on the sidewalks.

  Johnny launched himself onto the closest bed and began to jump on it. “This is my bed!” he squealed.

  “Whoa there, sweetie.” Camille laughed, catching him and setting him back on the floor. “Careful, now. We have to treat the furniture nicely. No jumping, little monkey.” She smiled at him and ruffled his hair.

  He zoomed around the room and sped into the bathroom. “It’s pink!” he screamed. “The tub is pink.”

  Camille trotted after him. Shelby rolled her eyes.

  “Shelby. Can I speak to you over here, please?” I said.

  I motioned toward the kitchenette. She shrugged and followed me around the corner.

  I didn’t hesitate, because there wasn’t much time to do this without the whole family hearing. “Listen. I’m not sure what’s going on with you, but your mom needs this vacation. She deserves it. She’s been through the wringer this week. So you need to cool it.” I lifted her chin and locked eyes with her. “Another thing. I don’t want Johnny’s first vacation to be soured by your attitude.”

  She scowled and pulled away from me.

  “So, shape up and help us with Johnny. Then, maybe I’ll let you go up to the pool and come to dinner with us. Otherwise, you can stay here and have room service.”

  I wasn’t sure if I’d gone too far. Her expression shattered and she burst into tears. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I meant to latch the stall door.”

  I couldn’t help myself. I slid my arms around her and let her weep on my shoulder, patting her back. “Honey, I know you didn’t mean it. It’s okay. Maggie’s gonna be fine.”

  “I thought I killed her,” she whispered.

  “Well, it could have killed her. We were lucky Sig found her before she finished the whole grain bin.”

  She sniffled, wiped her eyes, and stared up at me. Her eyes searched mine, as
if afraid. “He didn’t really push you, did he?”

  Her topic jumping threatened to derail me, but I kept up. We were back on the ferry now. I wanted to know who “he” was, but answered her honestly first. “I don’t know. It could have been the boat pitching. You know how hard it is to stand up out there.” I pulled her hair away from her eyes. “Was it Rolf?”

  She lowered her eyes. “I can’t say. I’m sorry. I’ll explain later.”

  “Is he running away?” I asked, hoping she’d tell me more.

  “I promised not to tell. But don’t worry, it’s not like I’m shielding someone from the law or anything like that.”

  I sighed. My shoulders rose and fell, disappointed. “I don’t like it.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, starting to cry again.

  To keep the peace, I let it go. For now. “Listen. You need to stick with us for this whole trip. No gallivanting around Toronto with your mystery boy.”

  “I know,” she said, eyes downcast.

  I wasn’t sure I believed her, but turned back to the job at hand while we figured out who would sleep where and where to stash our clothes.

  Chapter 47

  We decided to allocate one of the king-sized beds to Camille and me, the second to Siegfried and Johnny, and the convertible sofa to Shelby. She seemed happy to have her own private zone. The living area was tucked around a corner and out of sight of the two beds.

  After stowing our clothes in the drawers and closets, we scanned through the restaurant guide and chose a nearby Portuguese restaurant for dinner. It was located just one block from the hotel back entrance, which appealed to us when walking on the cold streets with a five-year-old in tow. Camille called and set up our reservation for six.

  Shelby found a cable station that seemed to satisfy her, and Siegfried brought out a pack of cards. The man was a whiz at solitaire and whipped the cards up and down his bedspread, ordering them in suits.

  To our surprise, Johnny lay down on the bed beside Siegfried to “test” the pillow, and promptly fell asleep.

  “Too many jumping jacks, oder?” Siegfried chuckled, watching the boy sleep.

  “I guess I tired him out,” I said. “We might as well let him sleep, though. He’ll probably need a nap if we expect him to sit through dinner.”

  Camille touched my arm, glancing down at the hotel guide. “Honey? Why don’t we go up to the pool while these guys rest? We’ve got a few hours till dinner. There’s an adult-only pool on the top floor. They even have cocktails.” She flashed me a glance full of promise.

  I felt the spark and responded with a grin. “Adults only? Sounds appealing. How about we try one of those fancy martinis?”

  She jumped up from the chair and ran to the bureau. “I’ve been dying to use this bathing suit. I bought it last summer on clearance. Here, take your trunks. Get changed and put on your sandals.”

  I caught my trunks midair, striding to the bathroom. Camille changed after me, emerging in a silky turquoise cover-up.

  “Ready?” she asked, her eyes sparkling.

  “You bet.” I offered my arm. “Sig? You okay to watch the kids?”

  “Ja. We are fine. Have a good time.” He waved at us, still focused on his cards.

  We exchanged looks of anticipation and swiftly departed. Flip-flopping to the elevator, I pulled at the hem of my tee shirt, feeling a bit self-conscious.

  She put her hand on mine and squeezed. “I feel a little guilty leaving them behind, but it’s sort of delicious, too. Just you and me. Know what I mean?”

  Another surge of desire shot through me. “I do. I know exactly how you feel. Like the bottom’s gonna fall out any second if we don’t hurry and enjoy ourselves.”

  The elevator stopped at our floor and we stepped inside the empty car.

  Camille pushed the button for the top floor, and I drew her to me, kissing her deeply.

  She reached down and caressed me, sending flickers of desire through my body.

  “Geez, honey. You’re killing me. What am I supposed to do with this?” I glanced down. “We’re stuck in a room with three other people tonight.”

  She faked a frown. “Hmm. How about the closet? Think they’d hear us?”

  I burst out laughing. “Uh, yes.”

  Her smile lit up her face. “I love that you want me so much.”

  “Isn’t it mutual?” I said with a grin.

  She laid her head on my chest and ran her fingers up and down my thigh. “Darn right it is.”

  “You’re making me worse. How can I walk around in public like this?”

  The elevator door swished open, revealing two elderly patrons, each still wearing old-fashioned bathing caps. They sported goggles and clutched towels around their waists.

  We nodded to them and hurried off the elevator into the pool area, hoping they hadn’t noticed my state of longing.

  I couldn’t believe our luck: the place was deserted. Normally, I disliked swimming in public, especially having to fight for space in a crowded pool. We trotted toward a long row of chaise lounges, grabbing two towels from a folded pile. I tugged off my tee shirt and Camille slipped out of her wrap.

  I stared at her. The crimson suit was beautiful, but the woman within was dazzling. Her long curls hung loose about her creamy shoulders, bouncing as she moved in the dim light. The flattering suit was cut high above her thighs and dipped low in the back. A thin white band of material zigzagged across the bodice in a contemporary design.

  We hurried to the steps on the shallow end, afraid our good fortune would soon end with the appearance of a tour group.

  The water was warm, almost like bath water, but it felt good. We floated out to the deep end together.

  The warm, silky water and my curvaceous, loving wife provided a sensual environment that sent my heart racing. And the cocoon of oneness and privacy—because we were the only souls in the whole area—was hypnotic.

  We swam side by side to the end of the pool and latched onto the ladder on the wall. Laughing, she splashed me, swimming away.

  Pushing off toward the opposite end, we stroked across the pool. When we reached the shallow end, we reversed and floated on our backs. Her fingertips touched mine, sending tingling sensations through me. I looked at her again, longing for her but knowing it was impossible.

  “Kiss me, Gus.” She stood neck deep in the pool, her eyes luring me closer.

  I glanced around. There was no one in the room. The bar in the far corner was hidden behind a glass block wall that rippled with colors.

  I reached for her and pulled her to me. She wrapped her legs around my waist and I moved in. We kissed, deeply and with tender passion. Her lips felt soft and warm, and her kiss was insistent.

  “Honey?” I gasped. I was nearing the point of no return.

  “Mmm?” she murmured, kissing my ear and neck.

  “What are you doing to me?” I whispered.

  She laughed. “Sorry, sweetheart. You just look so cute in those trunks.”

  The door opened, disgorging four young couples in their twenties. They laughed and joked, cavorting toward the water. College kids, I guessed. On winter break?

  Camille grabbed me again and nuzzled my neck with her lips. She whispered close to my ear, “Rain check?”

  I tried to ignore the sensations pulsing through me. Our noisy newcomers helped me to come back down to reality.

  “We’ve gotta wait ‘til we’re back home, don’t we?” I said.

  “Maybe not. I have an idea.”

  “Really?” I wondered what she had in mind. Short of renting another room for an hour, I was at a loss.

  “Well, don’t we have to shower to get ready for dinner tonight?”

  I looked at her. The light dawned. And then dimmed.

  “You mean while everyone’s in the other room, right outside?”

  “There’s a lock on the door. I checked. And maybe Sig could bring the kids down to the gift shop while we ‘get ready,’” she said.

>   I drew her to me. “You might have just planned the most exciting tryst of our lives. I love you for it. I love you, period.”

  She lifted her eyes to mine and then kissed me again. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 48

  After our tryst in the shower, Camille and I sat flushed and fully dressed on the couch, waiting for Siegfried, Johnny, and Shelby to return from the gift shop.

  I leaned over and nuzzled her neck, suddenly craving a rematch. Her long hair, still damp with the scent of eucalyptus and rosemary from the hotel shampoo, shot renewed longings through me. Impossible to ignore, yet impracticable to address, I sat beside her, already aching for our next intimate moments.

  The door burst open in a flurry of noisy family.

  Shelby held a silver chain to the light, beaming. A heart-shaped crystal dangled below, winking in the winter sunlight. “Look what Uncle Sig bought me.”

  Camille jumped up to examine the necklace and Johnny roared into the room, “flying” a new green dragon toward me.

  “My dragon flies,” he yelled, zooming it up and down in the air and finally landing it on my shoulder.

  “Wow. What’s his name?” I peered down at the rubbery reptile who perched on me.

  “I dunno,” he said. “How ‘bout…Claws?”

  I picked up the squishy critter and looked at him. He did have very distinctive claws and a rubbery mouth that opened when you pressed on the skull. “Claws is a good name, buddy. I like it.”

  “Can he come to supper with us? He’s really hungry.” He pretended to make the dragon eat my finger. “Yummy. Opa tastes good.”

  I told him Claws could indeed come with us, then played with the boy for a few more minutes. I loved the way the light danced in my grandson’s eyes.

  Camille fastened the necklace around Shelby’s neck. “It’s beautiful, sweetheart. Let’s go take a look in the mirror so you can see how pretty you are.”

  I handed Claws back to Johnny. “Do you have to use the bathroom before we go?”

  “Yes,” he squealed, hopping up and down. Without skipping a beat, he flew Claws toward the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.