No Turning Back (The Traveler)

by Tyree, Omar

I’m going to have to get more money before we leave the hotel, at this rate, Gary imagined. He handed ten thousand pesos to the hotel staff just for handling their luggage and taking it up to their room.

  “Welcome to the Intercontinental Hotel of Meda-yheen. You’re names, please?” the registration attendant asked them inside. The olive-toned woman in her late twenties looked as beautiful as a model herself, with her dark hair pulled back into a slick ponytail.

  “Gary Stevens. We’re both in the same room.”

  The attendant looked up his name in the computer system. “Ah, you’re with us for three nights.”

  “Yeah, then we’ll head up to Car-te-heena to get some swim and sun in,” Gary told her.

  “We do have a pool here also,” the woman informed them as she handed over their room keys.

  “Yeah, but we’ll wait to swim at the beach. We plan to walk the streets and hit the nightclubs here.”

  “Ahh, yes, Parque Lleras is very nice. Do you want executive club upgrade?” the attendant asked them.

  Gary paused and thought about what that meant: more money. He quickly turned the idea down. “Nah, we’ll barely even be in the room. So we’ll just stick with the standard.”

  “Okay, room seven-twelve.”

  When they arrived in their spacious and comfortable room, Gary felt energized.

  “Okay, you take the bed, and I’ll sleep on the sofa. I don’t mind,” he told his friend. “Now let’s freshen up and get the hell out of here.”

  Taylor looked at him, exhausted. “Dude, can we chill for a bit. We just got here.”

  “You mean, for like an hour or so, right?” Gary asked him.

  “At least, man. God!

  Taylor fell on his back across the soft queen-size bed, covered in a thick white quilt. It had been an early morning rise, with two flights and several long lines for both of them. Taylor wondered where Gary continued to get his energy from.

  This guy’s a beast, like his body’s filled with Rockstar energy juice, he mused.

  Gary immediately walked over to the large window and took in the hotel view that faced the north, looking back into the city. Their room had a beautiful skyline that included the Colombian mountains in the far background. Gary also eyed the Metrocable service in the distance, traveling from the high mountains down to the center city area.

  Yeah, we’re definitely taking a ride on that, he promised himself.

  “This is beautiful, man!” he remarked. “This place will look even better at night when the lights pop on. Anyone would love this view,” he hinted.

  Taylor caught on to his friend’s hint and began to smile, assuming things.

  “What exactly do you have in mind over there, Gary?”

  Gary looked back and struggled. “I don’t know, five or six naked Colombian girls, maybe. We could play strip poker in front of the window with some drinks. The more girls you ask over to play, the more they’ll feel comfortable with it. It’s called the ‘group inclusion effect’.”

  Taylor broke out laughing, but the idea didn’t sound half bad. He wondered if his friend could actually pull it off.

  “If you can get a bunch of girls in here to go for that—”

  He stopped in mid-sentence and left the idea open.

  But Gary immediately took his comment as a challenge. “All right, you’re on.”

  Once Taylor had taken time to recuperate, Gary led them out on the town with digital cameras and his iPhone to document everything, including snapshots of beautiful women—some of whom had no idea that they were being photographed. The guys then rode the Metro train system that traveled from one end of the city to the other. The Metro train traveled beside Medellín’s centrally located river. They followed that excursion with a cable car ride up to the mountains that surrounded the city.

  “This is great, man!” Gary expressed, way up above the buildings. The cable car ride was several times higher than anything they had ever been on before. “This is what I’m talking about, the joys of living,” Gary continued. “We should never allow one place to restrict our imaginations, dude. It’s a real big world out here.”

  Taylor didn’t feel as excited about the cable car ride up to the mountains. He felt more anxious than anything. The height of the cable was startling. They were literally thousands of feet above ground in a box that was attached to nothing but wires.

  Shit! Taylor panicked. He was barely willing to look out at their far-above-the-city view. Just let this thing make it where it’s going, he told himself.

  Gary was so thrilled that he asked Colombian passengers to take pictures of them while they posed next to the window to document the ride.

  “Hey, don’t lean on the glass,” Taylor warned him.

  “Aw, cut it out, man. This glass is extra strong.” Gary even faked a shoulder block into the glass before he stopped inches away from it.

  “Shit, man! What are you doing?” Taylor complained. His heart jumped into his throat, imaging his friend’s impact taking them and several other passengers out of the window to their death. Even a few of the Colombians looked concerned.

  “It’ll be over with before you know it,” Gary promised him. “Then we’ll ride it back down,” he teased.

  “Oh, no we’re not,” Taylor protested. “We’re taking a bus or a taxi back down.”

  As the night hour descended upon them, they walked through the wide sidewalks of San Juan Road downtown, a two-way street with multiple lanes in each direction.

  “Look at this, mi amigo. We don’t have a street this big in all of Louisville,” Gary commented as they walked and took in everything.

  Taylor told him, “I get the point, Gary. You’re enjoying yourself. You don’t have to keep reminding me every five minutes. Louisville is not exactly the biggest city in America anyway. This place is much bigger than home.”

  Gary grinned and was satisfied with his friend’s admission. “Yeah, I’m glad you noticed.”

  Before their big city tour closed in on midnight, the guys finally made their way to the Parque Lleras club scene, where the most beautiful Colombian women of every hue were on display, enjoying themselves.

  Taylor said, “Dude, am I imagining this, or does it seem like every woman here has a perfect set of boobs?”

  Gary laughed. “No, you’re seeing it right. Meda-yheen is very big on plastic surgery and boob jobs. Wherever there’s models, there’s plastic surgeons.”

  “I see,” Taylor commented, alert.

  They casually strolled through the area, observing the many restaurants, bars and night spots before they decided to enter one.

  “Jesus Christ!” Taylor exclaimed of the exotic natives. “They’re coming out from everywhere at night. Now I see why you wanted to come here.”

  Gary continued laughing. “It looks like I’ll have to keep you out of trouble now.”

  “Good luck with that,” Taylor retorted. He was so distracted by beautiful women that he could hardly walk straight. His head and eyes were on a swivel, rotating from left to right at everything that moved.

  “You’re about to break your neck, Taylor,” Gary warned him. “And that’s a good thing.”

  They followed behind several women into a nightclub and showed their valid IDs. The large, organic club blasted Spanish American music from a live band, while girls danced in colorful costumes onstage.

  Both Kentucky boys froze at the sight of it. They were in awe. The big loud place was a man’s paradise. The pulsating energy inside the room was overwhelming to them, with stunning women onstage and all around them in the club, including the bar areas. And there were plenty of older tourists spread out around the room. Many of them were married men who had left their wives at home.

  Taylor mumbled, “Gary, I’m glad you talked me into this. It looks like five women to every man in here.”

  Gary nodded. “Meda-yheen is considered the second model haven of South America. It ranks only behind Sao Paulo, Brazil,” he told him. “And this
looks like a pick-up bar. I read about places like this online. But these old guys in here don’t stand a chance against us. All they have is money to burn. But we have stamina.”

  Taylor shook his head and smiled again.

  Gary said, “All we need to do is act like a couple of rock stars, and we’re in.”

  “Uh-huh,” Taylor mumbled absentmindedly. He stood there hypnotized by an astonishing image of deep-brown sugar. The woman’s skin in front of him shimmered under a colorful floral dress, with silky dark waves for hair, and a flower in it to match her outfit. She looked like a perfect DNA stew of Native American, African and Spanish blood, and she was curved like sculpture. But she only took up one space inside the room. There were plenty of others who were just as enticing to the eyes and senses.

  Oh my God! I’ve died and gone to heaven! Taylor told himself.

  Gary followed his friend’s eyes to validate the deep- brown beauty for himself. “Oh, yeah, she reminds me of Chilli from the group TLC. Muy guapa,” he commented. “Come on, let’s go meet her.”

  Taylor froze and stared at him. “Are you serious? Just like that? You’re going after her?”

  Gary frowned. “Dude, what do you think she’s here for? They all want to meet people. And we’re not just in here to stare at them. Come on.”

  Gary was already pulling out his small book of Spanish phrases from his back pocket.

  Taylor shrugged and followed him across the room. Scores of Colombian women eyed the tall, young Americans with curiosity. Who were they? And what was their purpose for being there?

  Before they could reach her, Taylor watched the deep-brown Colombian woman strike up a conversation with a round-bellied white man in his fifties.

  “You see what I mean?” Gary asked Taylor. “But that old guy doesn’t stand a chance against you. Now, do you want to talk to her or not?”

  Taylor paused and thought about it. What the hell? he told himself. You only live once. So he forced himself to nod. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

  As they approached and circled her in the room, the young woman made eye contact with them. Gary quickly smiled and nodded to her.

  “Okay, now she knows we’re interested,” he told Taylor. “Let’s wait for her at the bar and buy a couple of drinks. In fact, order three drinks, with something sweet for her, and I’ll get her over here for you.”

  Taylor ordered the drinks at the bar from a bilingual bartender while Gary focused on regaining the Colombian’s attention. When she looked in his direction again, he gave her a second nod and continued to stare at her. Before long, she excused herself from him and headed over in Gary’s direction.

  “Here she comes,” Gary announced to Taylor.

  Taylor took a deep breath and gathered the three drinks at the bar.

  “Buenas noches, bonita linda,” Gary had been waiting to tell her.

  She smiled and answered, “Sí, buenas noches. Y gracias.”

  Not to confuse her with his interest, Gary immediately introduced her to his friend.

  “Sí, sí, mi amigo es Taylor. Y me llamo es Garito.”

  His Spanish was crude and choppy, but his confidence inspired her to smile. Gary had only been practicing for about a week, so even Taylor was impressed.

  Then she shocked them. “I speak Inglés a lit-tle,” she told them both with a grin.

  “Oh, un poco Inglés?” Gary asked her.

  “Sí, un poco,” she answered with a small pinch of her fingers.

  Gary turned and said, “You hear that, Taylor? Now you can help each other to speak. So pull out that Spanish book I gave you. We’re all learning in here.” He grabbed her extra drink from the bar and offered it to her.

  First, she hesitated. Then she nodded and reached for it. “Thank you,” she spoke in soft accented English.

  “So, what’s your name?” Gary asked her. “Tell him,” he said, pointing to Taylor.

  She looked at Taylor and answered, “Laura Dominguez.”

  Taylor sat his drink down at the bar and extended his hand to her. “Taylor Hutchinson.”

  “And he’s young and single with a good job,” Gary added. “Mi bueno, amigo,” he told her in Spanish. “Y se muy gustas. ¡Muy, muy gustas!” he repeated, telling her that his friend liked her very much. “So you two talk. And you don’t let her get away from you, Taylor. ¿Comprende?”

  Gary was obnoxious, but it worked. Laura and Taylor laughed and began to speak more intently while getting to know each other.

  Taylor mixed his Spanish phrases from the book with his English.

  “So, where are you from? ¿Donde vives?” he asked her.

  “I’m from Cali. But I live now en la universidad,” she answered.

  “Cali? Like in California?” Taylor asked excitedly.

  She even giggled attractively. “No, Cali in Colombia.”

  “Oh, so Cali is a city in Colombia? ¿Ciudad?”

  She smiled. “Sí.”

  “So, you’re in school here? I’m en la universidad too, in Kentucky. What year are you? ¿Cual años?” he asked her crudely in Spanish.

  She grinned and answered, “Dos años. I’m nineteen—diez y nueve.”

  Her communication in English was as choppy as his was in Spanish. Nevertheless, they were able to communicate with a comfortable connection. They were making it work.

  Seeing them getting along smoothly, Gary sipped his drink and said, “All right, I’ll just move around the room and leave you two alone.”

  Taylor barely acknowledged him while fully engaged with Laura. “All right, I’ll be right here,” he promised with a weak nod.

  Gary grinned and raised his drink for a toast. He was pleased by his handiwork. He then wandered away into a whole group of Colombian women.

  “Hola. ¿Cómo está?” he addressed them all. With his superior height, good looks, youth and swagger, the women immediately responded to him with curious excitement.

  “Hola. ¿Tu eres Americano?” they assumed of him.

  Gary nodded. “Sí, sí, Americano à la Kentucky.” Even his broken Spanish intrigued the women, compelling them to laughter. The young man was very daring, with machismo.

  Back across the room, the plump older man was incensed by him. He felt that Laura Dominguez had been snatched away from him, and he was not pleased by it, so he told a Colombian associate, a hard-edged man with dark, curly hair, who was dressed modestly.

  “Those two guys just pulled the girl away from me, and she hasn’t come back yet.”

  The plump, older businessman was an American from Minnesota. His hardened Colombian associate looked in the direction of the bar and took in the dispute with no expression. The young American speaking to Laura looked harmless. He could be run off easily. The Colombian could read it in the young man’s affable face. But the taller American appeared more determined and ardent. He was parading around the nightclub as if he owned the place, exciting a huddle of working Colombian women.

  Who does this young playboy think he is? the hardened man wondered. This young man has a lot of balls … or either he is a fool.

  “Which one called her?” he asked his American customer. His English was clear and casual. He had dealt with American, Canadian, British and English-speaking businessmen regularly.

  “The one over there with all the girls,” the plump man answered, with a lean of his large head. “He called her over and introduced her to the other guy.”

  The Colombian nodded. It was what he had expected. Some men refused to respect the rules of international courtship and business.

  He said, “I will take care of it.”

  “I just want her company back,” the American man stated. “I don’t want any trouble.”

  He understood how fierce the Colombian men could be. He had witnessed them in action.

  His hard-edged associate dismissed his concerns. “There won’t be trouble,” he promised unconvincingly. Then he walked away.

  Gary was so involved in entertaining his circle of
beautiful Colombian women that he failed to realize how much attention he was drawing to himself inside the club.

  “You guys play cards? ¿Te juegas?” he asked the group of women. He pulled a fresh deck of cards from his back pocket.

  “Sí, Black Jack,” one of the English-speaking women responded.

  Gary sipped from his second drink. “No, no Black Jack,” he told them. “Poker en la hotel. I can teach you.”

  “What hotel?” the English-speaking woman asked Gary.

  “The Intercontinental.”

  While several of the Colombian women discussed the idea of playing cards with him in Spanish, Gary quickly searched his book of phrases to say more.

  Oh my God! I’m almost there. Don’t fuck it up! he told himself. “¿Vamos en la hotel?” he stated desperately. It was after midnight with no time to waste.

  A few of the women chuckled at his palpable attempts of Spanish, but he had already won them over. They loved his brash optimism. He was a man of deliberate mission. And as Gary had expected, they felt safe in numbers, and they were already familiar with the exquisite hotel. They were also curious to see how large and nice a room he would have.

  “Yes, we’ll go with you,” the English-speaking woman confirmed.

  Gary stretched his eyes wide in delight and was slightly buzzed from his second strong drink. He told them, “Un momento. I need mi amigo.” He pointed in Taylor’s direction at the bar with Laura and nearly stumbled to get to them.

  Taylor was so preoccupied and smitten by Laura Dominguez that he had dropped his guard completely. Spiteful eyes had already locked in on him and his indomitable friend.

  “Oh my God,” Gary expressed to him. “You are not going to believe this. Are you guys ready to go? I want to play a big game of poker back at the room.”

  Taylor was taken by surprise. He looked back at the group of Colombian women, who were ready to leave the night club with his friend, and his eyes stretched wide as well.

  “You actually did that?” he asked.

  Gary laughed. “Hey man, it’s all about asking the right questions.” Then he addressed Laura. “Vamos.”

  Laura hesitated and looked across the room in the direction of the older man that she had left earlier.