Sammy in Bali (Single Wide Female Travels #7)

by Lillianna Blake

  “Enjoy your burger.”

  “Thank you, enjoy your yoga.”

  “I will, thank you.” I closed the door behind me and then rode the elevator to the lobby. It was nice to just be able to walk next door to the studio.

  As soon as I stepped inside I was blanketed with relaxing scents and soothing music. It felt a bit like coming home.

  The woman at the desk smiled at me. “Hello. Welcome.”

  “Thank you. My name is Samantha. I have an appointment.”

  “Oh yes, right this way.” She walked me down a short hallway to a small room.

  Inside was a large fountain that trickled water and more soothing music. The lighting was soft, but the room wasn’t dark; there was a tinted skylight above the massage table. I adored the thought of the sunlight bathing my skin as I was massaged.

  I changed out of my clothes and settled under a thin sheet. I no longer had that heavy sense of dread that I used to have at the thought of being naked around a stranger. My body was my body and I’d reached a point of acceptance of it.

  As I waited, I thought about the number of times my anxiety about what other people thought of me had prevented me from doing something I really wanted to do.

  The door opened, then closed.

  I smiled and prepared to relax. With a few deep breaths, I eased into an almost meditative space.

  Moments later the masseuse began to dig into the tight muscles of my back.

  Chapter 27

  After a few passes across my shoulders I started to notice that the fingers that dug into me felt quite broad, as were the hands they belonged to. My heart beat a little faster. I’d assumed that the masseur was going to be a female, but from the pressure and width of touch, I guessed that it was not the case.

  I stole a glance up and discovered that not only was he a he, he was a very handsome he—so handsome, in fact, that I felt my cheeks flush. I buried my face in the opening of the table and tried not to think about the man who was massaging my shoulders and upper back.

  “Relax, you’re so stiff.”

  Even his voice was handsome, rich, and deep, like the best kind of chocolate.

  I closed my eyes and wondered if it would be rude to call an end to the massage. It wasn’t as if other men hadn’t touched me before, but it was so unexpected to be thrust into this situation that I didn’t know how to react to it.

  With my senses still heightened, every touch and rub was enough to make me shiver. I tried to relax. I really did. But he seemed to have a natural attraction to every ticklish spot on my body. I had to bite into my bottom lip to keep from giggling, but that didn’t stop my body from shaking.

  At some point he must have felt frustrated because he took a step back from the table.

  “Is something wrong?”

  I didn’t know what to say. Could I tell him that he was too handsome or that he was tickling me so much that I needed a bathroom break? Neither of those explanations seemed like the way to go.

  “I’m sorry, I’m just a little nervous. I expected you to be a woman.”

  “Oh.” He chuckled. “Well, I’m not.” He lowered his head down beyond the table so that he could look at me. “See?”

  “I see.” I wondered if my lip would bleed on him from biting it so hard.

  “So do you want to continue the massage or should I see if anyone else is available?”

  He looked so eager to please me that I decided to give it another shot.

  “No, it’s okay, you can finish.”

  “Great.” He gave my back a pat as he stood up.

  I did my best not to wiggle. To prevent another batch of giggles I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. As his powerful hands swept me into a state of relaxation, I soon forgot all about his gender.

  My body let go of tension I didn’t even know it was holding onto. In fact, it let go of a little bit more than tension. He kneaded his hands into my lower back and all of my healthy eating erupted in one quite loud explosion of gas.

  I gasped and he laughed.

  “Don’t be shy, it just means I’m doing my job right.”

  He continued the massage, though there was no point. My entire body was tense again and my cheeks were on fire.

  After about twenty more minutes of his attempt to relax me, he patted my shoulder. “Lie there as long as you like. I hope you enjoyed your massage.”

  I thought he left the room rather quickly. I wasn’t far behind him, as the room was no longer pleasantly scented. I left a sizable tip at the front desk and decided to sit in the sauna for a few minutes. I knew the work he’d done on my muscles wasn’t wasted and hoped that the heat would relax me once more.

  I wasn’t the only one in the sauna. There were a few other women. Each of the women was about half the size of me. While the towels they wore wrapped around them, mine just barely covered my body.

  I tried to sit as far away as I could. My stomach rumbled again from the smoothie I’d scarfed down at breakfast. Even though I knew that healthy eating would have the effect I wanted it to, there was always this period of detox that left me wondering if it was wise to change my diet.

  With a rumbling stomach I tried to be as still as possible. The other three women began to laugh about something. Of course, I wondered if it was me. Did they know what happened in the massage room?

  I closed my eyes. I tried to remember being under the water and experiencing such a lovely sense of understanding about my worth. But somehow, when I wasn’t looking, insecurity had crept right back into my life and consumed me to the point that I was certain these women were laughing at me.

  After a few minutes they got up to leave. I breathed a sigh of relief until one of the women walked up to me.

  “Are you Samantha?”

  I lowered my eyes. So, they had heard about the massage room. How else would this woman know my name? I nodded but didn’t look back up.

  “I’m going to your book signing tonight. I’m so looking forward to it. You seem a little down, though. Are you okay?

  “I’m fine. I’m sorry. I’m just a little tired.”

  “I bet—with all the touring that you’ve been doing. I’m sorry to bother you.”

  “Oh, please don’t apologize. I’m sure we’ll have a chance to talk more tonight.”

  “I would love that. I downloaded Becoming Zara on audio and it’s even better than reading the book! I love that she has a voice now.”

  I swallowed hard as the women stepped out of the sauna. There it was again—that reminder that I needed to find my own voice.

  I left the sauna and made a stop in the bathroom. When I thought my stomach was settled enough, I decided to brave the yoga class.

  I’d gone from feeling so secure, so certain of what I’d experienced, to feeling lost again.

  I wanted that feeling of certainty and connection with everything back.

  Chapter 28

  There were only a handful of people in the yoga class. The instructor allowed us to move into the positions that were most comfortable for us. I made sure that I isolated myself in case of any more gaseous emissions.

  Just a few minutes into the class I began to relax again. My mind shifted from the positions and movement to my memory of the sensation of being in a different world under water. It also reminded me of the connection I’d felt to the earth while walking through Monkey Forest.

  By the time the class was finished my inspiration had returned. But when I gathered my things and left the studio, something still wasn’t right. I placed a call to Wayan.

  “Hi. Are you busy?” I heard the sound of children running and screaming in the background.

  “No, not really.”

  “Do you think I could come over for a little while? I’d just like a chance to get my head on straight for tonight.”

  “Sure, I’d love to have you. I’ll pick you up.”

  “No, that’s okay. You’ve got your hands full. I’ll take a taxi.” I waved one down as I clicked
off the phone.

  After the short drive, I was relieved to see Wayan’s home. I already thought of it as a home away from home. The kids ran out to greet me as I walked up onto the porch. I hugged them both and ruffled little Wayan’s hair. When I heard a soft cry from inside the door I was surprised.

  Wayan opened the door and stepped out with a baby cradled in her arms.

  “Who’s this?” I grinned, reaching out to touch the baby’s little fingers.

  “This is my niece.”

  “Let me guess—Wayan?” I smiled.

  “Yes.” She laughed.

  “She’s very beautiful.”

  “My sister had to go on a last-minute trip so I offered to watch the baby. I remember how hard it was to get around when mine were this small.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

  “Will you hold her for a moment?” She didn’t wait for an answer, but thrust the baby into my arms.

  As awkward as it was to have the lump of wiggly, warm flesh in my arms, the weight of the baby ignited something else inside me—a strange and deep longing. It wasn’t so much a sense of loss as it was of anticipation. The baby gazed up at me with a faint smile. I smiled back at her.

  “You’re very beautiful, Wayan. You are going to have a wonderful life.”

  She wiggled more in my arms and kicked her feet. As her tiny toes grazed my skin, joy bubbled up within me. After a few moments, though, I realized that those bubbles were from something else.

  Just then Wayan’s two kids came running back unto the porch.

  “Oh, what is that stink?” Wayan pinched her tiny nose.

  Her little brother covered his nose too.

  “Uh, it must have been the baby.” I scrunched up my nose. “Oh, yup, definitely the baby.”

  “Stinky baby!” Wayan laughed.

  I tried not to blush. Yes, I had great maternal instincts. I’d just blamed my own gas on an innocent beautiful baby with no way to defend herself.

  I followed the kids into the house and found Wayan cleaning up a mess on the kitchen floor.

  “We had an incident.” She shook her head. “It seems like we have one just about every day.” She stood up and took the baby. “Thanks for holding her.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  “So what’s going on, Samantha? Is something wrong? Are you nervous about tonight?”

  “Not nervous. It’s just that I have this idea in my head and I’m trying to figure out how to put it into words. I guess it’s some sort of block I’m dealing with.”

  “Ah yes, that must be frustrating. Why don’t you go lie out on the back porch and see if you can clear your head?”

  “Thanks.”

  I settled on one of the rocking chairs and gazed out at the bright flowers and lush green that was Wayan’s backyard. After a few minutes I was able to calm my mind enough to get started.

  I looked over the notes that I’d taken during the car ride from Amed back to Ubud. Even though I’d written out a lot of details, I knew that it was still not all I wanted to say. I crumpled them up and flopped back in the chair.

  As I rested there, I heard the pitter-patter of small feet outside the door. One of the kids was spying on me. I smiled as I imagined the little child peeking under the crack of the back door. I really enjoyed how inquisitive and instinctive they were.

  Children never hesitated. They barreled forward and hunted relentlessly. Yes, their attention and questions could become a little overwhelming, but maybe that was only because I was trained to be silent and in the background instead of free to speak up and explore.

  All of a sudden I knew exactly what I wanted to say. Just then the door swung open and Wayan stepped out through the back door with a mug in her hand.

  “Here, this is for you.” She smiled as I took the mug.

  “What’s this?” I sniffed the liquid.

  “A little apple custard spice. It always calms me and clears my mind. I thought you might like some.”

  “Thank you. This is just what I need.”

  “Are you still stumped?”

  “No, thanks to your precious kids I’m not.”

  “Really? I thought they might be bothering you.”

  “Not at all. They’re reminding me of what it’s like to be young and curious.”

  “They are definitely curious.” She laughed. “It’s good that you can see that, though. Some people struggle with understanding the mind of a child. When they become an adult they forget what it’s like for everything to be new and exciting to explore.”

  “You’re right. I’ve felt that way myself too. I think I’m ready for the book signing tonight. In fact, I feel like I could write a book in one sitting right now.”

  “Well, then please don’t let me interrupt. Have at it!” She disappeared through the door and I returned to the rocking chair.

  Chapter 29

  As I sipped my drink and rocked in the chair, my mind drifted back to the ocean world. I recalled the vivid colors and the multi-hued coral as if they were snapshots in my mind—simple, beautiful, natural. The words revolved through my mind like a mantra, timed by the rock of the chair.

  I closed my eyes and saw the cycle of my entire time in Bali—from the anxiety I’d experienced over the scuba dive to the euphoria of being under the water, and every moment of heightened senses since.

  Something had broken open inside of me when I went beneath the surface of the water, but not because I’d learned to scuba dive. It broke open inside of me because I went beneath my own surface and finally recognized myself for who I truly was.

  I typed furiously on my phone to capture all the ideas floating through my mind.

  Some time later Wayan poked her head through the door. “How about some dinner before we head to the book signing?”

  Only then did I realize that all I’d eaten that day was a smoothie. Suddenly I was starving. “That would be great, but only if you let me help you make it.”

  Wayan laughed and agreed. She taught me how to prepare one of her favorite dishes. We took turns holding the baby, and the kids took turns helping with the recipe.

  When the food was finished I was eager to try it. Max and Wayan’s husband arrived just in time to join us. Max’s face looked a little pale.

  “Max, are you sick?”

  “A little.” He rubbed his stomach. “I think the grease from the burger hit me the wrong way.” He raised a finger. “Don’t you say it—don’t you dare.”

  “Say what?” I grinned. “It’s not as if I mentioned that eating something unhealthy might not be a good idea.”

  “Just because you prettied it up doesn’t mean that it’s not an ‘I told you so.’” He rolled his eyes and then grinned. “But you were right. About four bites in, I started craving a veggie burger.”

  We all laughed as we shared the meal. The baby got a little fussy, and we passed her around the table while we ate. Even Max cradled her in his arms and made funny faces at her to keep her happy. I noticed the shine in his eyes as he gazed at her. Right then I knew that it didn’t matter what his philosophy on parenting was, he would love our child unconditionally, and that was the most important thing to me.

  After dinner we headed out to the book signing as a group. It was a tight fit, but we managed to make it work.

  When we arrived at the shop Wayan’s mother and grandmother already had everything set up for the book signing. I paced around the shop and drank in the influence of my inspirational surroundings. Each new book title I read, or alternative treatment I studied, reminded me that there was a lot more to life than what was on the surface.

  Once the chairs near the podium were filled, I walked up to it and greeted everyone.

  “Good evening, everyone. Thank you for taking the time to be here with us.”

  After some mild applause I continued. “I want to make a confession tonight. I know this may seem a little unusual, but I think it’s important. You’ve all read Becoming Zara and know that I
identify very closely with her. But tonight I want to reveal that Zara is me. She’s all of us. She’s a mask we create and wear to stick just our toes in the water of self-discovery. It’s easy to write my truth through a character, just like it’s easy for all of you to read about things that inspire you, instead of truly experiencing them.

  “Since I’ve been in Bali, I’ve had the opportunity to take that mask off. I’ve delved beneath the surface that I’ve created for others to see.” I cleared my throat when I noticed that a few people in the audience seemed restless.

  “I don’t mean to bore anyone with a speech, but I think this is a vital thing for me to share. We’re not the clothes we wear. We’re not the hairstyle we choose. We’re not the make-up that we carefully paint on. We’re not even the jobs we hold or the families we create.

  “We are one hundred percent nature. We’re filled with the same perfection that creates a flawless piece of coral or the most unusual fish. We are colors that have yet to be defined and can’t be recreated. That’s what is hidden beneath our surface. We have to hide it because we feel the need to comply with what our culture, or what our society tells us to be.

  “But the truth is, we’re nothing more than simple, pure nature. We’re perfection from the moment we’re born until the moment we die. If only we would recognize that, we wouldn’t have to struggle so hard to prove ourselves.”

  I held up my hands and smiled. “Now, this is just what I gained from an amazing experience I’ve had. It’s not what everyone will believe and that’s okay. I’m not here to tell you what to think or how to be, I just wanted the chance to use my voice—not Zara’s, but my own.”

  Chapter 30

  The audience applauded my words, but I could also see many puzzled faces.

  Instead of concern, I felt inspiration from using my own voice.

  “I like to think of it as children seem to. There are no mistakes, only missed opportunities. Young children live on instinct. They don’t question what will happen next. They live in the moment and boldly investigate the world around them. I just think if we spent a little less time worrying about the what-ifs and a little more time embracing what life offers us, we’d have a lot more fun.”