by Barrett
Kirin chuckled. “You know, I feel exactly the same way and my vision isn’t impaired. So maybe between the two of us we could make this work out smoothly. I’ll try to get a cab.”
THE OLDER MODEL Toyota van had seen better days, but the young driver explained that it had been raining most of the day and many of the roads were flooded. He told them a story of how he tried to take an older couple into Belize City earlier, and that most of those streets were flooded as well.
Through the rain-streaked cab windows, the International Hotel looked like a hospital building. It was constructed of concrete block and painted yellow—sturdy, but not especially festive. They entered the wide lobby.
Kirin looked around. “Well, this is enchanting.”
“It’s much larger than I thought, but so dark,” Silke said.
“The minimal ceiling fluorescents are pretty dim and widely spaced. Not much furniture.” Kirin pointed to the right side. “There are some tables and chairs over there, maybe a cafeteria or coffee shop. There are some underwhelming oriental watercolors behind the desk and fancy dolls interspersed with the faux-foliage.”
They moved closer to the desk behind two couples.
“The staff looks like they are all one family and are quite friendly.”
“Would you please fill out the registration?” Silke asked.
Kirin accepted the key after signing the form. “Good news. It’s only fifty dollars and includes a light breakfast.” She held up two coupons.
A young man took both suitcases and led them to the second floor room where he turned on the lights and the air conditioner. Kirin tipped him.
“Well, this is kind of interesting,” she said, dropping her leather messenger bag on a chair. “Concrete block walls, cement and tile floor, industrial-strength furniture, but everything is spotlessly clean.”
Silke flopped onto one of the queen-size beds. “As tired as I am right now, it should be just fine. It is awfully quiet though.”
Kirin bounced a bit on the other bed, eliciting an odd squeak. “Maybe that’s because of the concrete walls.”
A gust of wind lashed sheets of rain against the tall windows.
Kirin got up, walked to the window, and looked out. “I can’t be sure, but it seems like the storm is picking up. Too bad there’s no TV to check the weather. I didn’t see one in the lobby either. Not surprising for the price.” She returned to the bed and stretched out. “I did notice a sign in the hallway about a youth hostel, but the rest of the sign was Chinese. Maybe the youth hostelers aren’t allowed TV. ”
“Maybe the locals will think we’re Christian missionaries come to convert the godless hordes.” Silke chuckled, which grew into full-throated laughter.
Kirin joined her in laughing as she thought about the absurdity, especially when the demographics she’d studied suggested the country was about fifty percent Catholic and twenty-seven percent Protestant. There was no mention of the godless hordes. She looked at Silke, who was still giggling, and laughed again. Silke could hardly see, and yet her smile and the sound of her laughter brightened up the room. They really were quite a pair—truly a case of the blind leading the blind.
Silke sat up. “What time did he say the buffet started?”
“Five o’clock,” Kirin said, looking at her watch. “About ten minutes ago. Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” She sat up and looked at Kirin with a grim expression. “I have a confession to make. I lied about the three course meal and the champagne on the plane.”
They erupted again with exhaustion-induced laughter, clapping, and high-five-ing.
“And the jugglers?” Kirin asked.
“Total fabrication.”
Kirin stood up first. “Then we better go eat.”
As advertised, the ten-dollar buffet offered a dozen different dishes—mostly Asian with one pan of what looked like fettuccine. It met their standards: hot and tasty.
Kirin chose the table near the wall where they could observe a long table filled with teenagers. They surmised that the group, wearing T-shirts that read Youth for Jesus were the young missionaries.
For three Belizean dollars, they each had a beer. Kirin bought a second round since Silke had insisted on paying for dinner.
Once they returned to the room, they now dubbed the bunker, Silke kicked off her shoes. “I’d like to take a shower before bed. Do you need to use the bathroom first?”
Kirin liked her for her manners. She went to the bathroom doorway. “I probably should recycle that beer just in case you become captivated by that extra-large drive-in shower.”
A few minutes later, she stepped out of the bathroom. “All yours.” She tried not to stare at Silke, who was standing in her underwear while folding her clothes.
“Thanks, I won’t be that long,” Silke said as she brushed past her into the bathroom.
Kirin smiled as she walked to the window. Her face felt warm, and she knew why. Silke was a very attractive woman, and Kirin’s forty-two-year-old libido was bumping up against her self-imposed celibacy. She looked over her shoulder toward the bathroom and then returned her gaze to the wind-whipped sheets of rain pummeling the building.
“Crap. I wonder if we’re actually in that hurricane right now,” she murmured.
Wouldn’t make any difference anyway. They had nowhere to go and besides, this building seemed sturdier than most she’d seen so far. As a precaution, she pulled the drapes closed.
The bathroom door opened, and Kirin looked up from the research article about the famed Blue Hole diving area. Silke emerged from the bathroom wearing only a towel wrapped tightly around . . . her head.
Kirin caught herself staring brazenly. Oh, Lord, help me.
Silke Dyson’s appearance enthralled her, starting with the long, toned legs, a softly rounded derriere, well-defined back and shoulder muscles. And all wrapped with creamy white skin splashed with pale freckles. Kirin’s breath caught as a flush of heat surged through her body. She couldn’t pull her eyes away.
“You were right about the shower. I could get used to that. It has a really powerful showerhead and lots of hot water. There’s something about traveling all day—it just makes me feel grimy.” Silke pulled on some clean boxers and a tank top.
Kirin nearly dropped her laptop on the floor, made a quick recovery, and stood. “My turn then.”
She grabbed a couple of items from her suitcase and rushed into the bathroom.
Chapter Four
BY NINE-THIRTY the next morning Kirin and Silke were back at the airport with at least a hundred other passengers waiting to get transportation to the outer islands. The atmosphere had calmed considerably from the day before, and Silke could only assume that everyone had slept somewhere the night before.
Kirin suggested that Silke wait near the gift shop with their luggage and went to the ticket counter to find out the status of the outgoing flights.
After so many trips to Belize, Silke had slipped easily into the slower way of life almost as soon as they had landed. The first few times when she had traveled with Rachel, it would take at least forty-eight hours to re-acclimate to the manaña mentality. Now it felt natural to slow down as soon as she boarded the plane. Hurricanes notwithstanding.
The hum of voices, luggage wheels on stone floors, and the whirring of the overhead fans lulled Silke into a comfortable state. The scent of fresh-brewed coffee drifted out of one of the shops behind her.
Meeting Kirin Foster had turned out to be a serendipitous event. Her first impression was that she was excitable and short-tempered. Then surprisingly, after they had dinner and returned to the room, conversation had flowed easily between them.
With this glitch in her travel plans, Silke acknowledged that a temporary travel companion benefited her so far.
“Looks like our luck has changed. The sun dried out the landing strip in San Pedro and the commuter planes started taking off. I think he said we would be on the third flight.” Kirin sat down heavily on the w
ooden chair next to Silke and handed her a boarding pass.
“That’s good news,” Silke said. “Thank you for wading through that crowd and getting us booked. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’m as excited as you are to get out of here,” Kirin said, then started sniffing loudly. “Something yummy is wafting from that café upstairs. Are you hungry?”
Silke laughed. “Do you mean to tell me the complimentary breakfast of an egg sandwich on toast and a glass of Tang two hours ago didn’t hold you?”
“Oh my God, what a joke. Seriously, who serves that powdered orange stuff anymore?” Kirin grimaced.
“I would really love a good cup of coffee and a fry jack,” Silke said, pulling some Belizean dollars from her wallet for Kirin.
“Done.”
The smell of coffee and the rustling of wax paper announced Kirin’s return. She handed both to Silke without a word and sat down.
“Thanks, this is delicious,,” Silke said.
Kirin mumbled a response and ate her fry jack.
While they waited in silence, the crowds thinned as various flights departed. When their flight was called, they walked outside and boarded in the same illusory silence that Silke could not put her finger on. Was it stress over work, or something else? Whatever it was, it wasn’t her business.
At a low altitude, the flight in the eight-passenger puddle jumper to Ambergris Caye took only twenty minutes across open water. Silke enjoyed watching the small islands emerge, covered in green foliage—a topographical paradise so close. Closer to the relaxation and safety she craved, it was dreamy. She glanced at her frowning seatmate, still curious about her dark mood.
The small plane bounced down on the muddy runway. Well, the only runway, Silke thought. As soon as they were on the ground walking to the terminal, Kirin fumbled for her cell phone.
“Esther. It’s me. We’re on the ground in San Pedro. I know you didn’t have much time, but I have to find a place to stay.” There was a pause. “No, this isn’t like landing at LaGuardia. I am surrounded by palm trees, not hotels.” Kirin rotated her head.
Silke now had a better idea where Kirin’s frustration came from but dared not interfere or offer help. Her own experience with offering unsolicited advice had taught her not to get involved in other people’s problems without permission.
The small building in the middle of the large muddy field looked less like an airline terminal and more like a small welcome center. Silke remembered the construction project a year ago, and this new building certainly was more welcoming than the old modified trailer. A large glass atrium formed the waiting area, and behind the ticket counter sat a large, covered baggage-handling area.
Because of the increased number of flights arriving from the mainland, the baggage area was crowded and noisy. Silke retreated to a bench outdoors, knowing their luggage would take a while to be unloaded.
Kirin paced up and down, waiting for her cell phone to ring. Silke glanced around to get Kirin’s coordinates from time to time. Relying on her hearing, she felt and heard the vibration of Kirin’s shoes.
Finally, it rang.
“Hello?” Kirin answered, agitated. “Esther, are you not listening? I’m not in Belize City. I’m in San Pedro on Ambergris Caye. I understand you’re busy, but I at least need somewhere to stay. Fine, ten minutes.”
Silke watched as Kirin jammed the phone in her pocket and wore more grooves in the concrete from her pacing. “Kirin, can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure. I’m sorry.” Kirin flopped down on the bench. “I don’t mean to be growling all the time. My editor has no idea what’s going on down here. She can’t seem to find one damn hotel with a vacancy. Did they not think of this before they sent me scurrying down here?”
“Listen, we bunked together last night and did okay. It may not help, but I’m staying in a condo at the resort, and there would be plenty of room if you wanted to stay there.”
Two locals walked by speaking in Spanish and waving their hands at each other. Silke caught the hand gestures in her tunnel vision.
“Are you serious?” Kirin sounded both surprised and relieved. “That would really help. At least until I could find something. And I’ll certainly pay half or whatever would be fair.” A huge sigh escaped her lips.
Silke put her hand on Kirin’s shoulder. “I figure it’s the least I can do. After all, you helped me out when we had to stay at that enchanting little institution last night. One of the resort staff will be here soon to look for guests. I promise it won’t be a problem.”
Kirin looked up to the sky.
As best she could, Silke followed her line of vision. Another of the outer bands from the storm moved closer to the barrier reef about a mile east of the beach.
AFTER BEING FERRIED from the airstrip to the nearby pier, Kirin watched one of the young men from the resort load a dozen passengers and their luggage into a large Bayliner boat. Their neatly pressed uniform shirts were getting drenched as they handed out oilcloth ponchos to the passengers. While the two large motors rumbled loudly, the boat rocked precariously at the dock.
The couple across from Kirin tucked their two small children under the ponchos to protect them from the stinging saltwater. She marveled at Silke’s calm demeanor as she spoke to one of the staff who loaded the luggage. Maybe this was a normal occurrence on the lee side of the islands.
The large boat swung away from the dock in a wide arc and headed out toward the reef, slapping the incoming waves in its path and sending salt spray high in the air. Once they were far enough from the docks, the captain steered north and opened up the motors until they were simply bouncing across the top of the waves. The speed and salt spray were exhilarating.
Kirin faced the shoreline and could barely make out the brightly colored low buildings crowded along the beach. After a few minutes, the buildings became more infrequent but larger. Ominous gray clouds seemed to expand and contract above them as sheets of rain buffeted the passengers and the boat. In spite of the eighty-degree temperatures and the sturdy poncho, Kirin shivered, chilled by the wet clothing and wind. The poncho hood kept blowing off, and she finally gave up trying to hold it on.
After ten or fifteen minutes, the boat slowed and made another wide arc toward the shoreline. The rain let up and revealed a dozen or more small thatched buildings spread out along the white sand beach. Kirin gently poked at Silke then pointed at the shore. Silke nodded and smiled.
An efficient staff greeted the new guests—many by name, including Silke. Within a short time, she and Silke were registered and escorted to a beautiful condominium up the beach from the main buildings.
“This is absolutely beautiful.” Kirin peered around the lovely one bedroom condominium. Original local art graced the walls and tables. A complete modern kitchen covered the rear wall. Two pocket doors, one from the kitchen and one from the bedroom, opened onto a large stone-and-tile bathroom. Bright shades of teal, orange, ochre, crimson, and sapphire adorning paintings and rich fabrics added to the tropical native ambience.
Two doors from the living room opened out onto a small porch that faced south and east, allowing a pristine view of the entire beachfront resort. Less than a mile away, the breathtaking aquamarine blue water stretched out to the barrier reef.
“Then I guess you can understand why I love it here so much,” Silke said, standing at the bay window. “I think you’ll find that the sofa bed is extremely comfortable, and there are extra linens in the closet if you need them.” She untucked her shirt and lifted her arms over her head as she stretched from side to side. Kirin watched, transfixed.
Kirin exhaled and refocused. “After the last twenty-four hours, this is like heaven, and I’m grateful that you’re willing to share it.” She surprised herself. For the first time in a long time, she actually felt grateful instead of agitated.
They looked at each other in surprise at a knock on the door. Silke opened the door and embraced the tan, fit woman smiling in the
doorway. “Oh, Diane, I’m so glad to see you.”
They stepped back then hugged again and laughed.
“Please come in and let me introduce you.”
Kirin extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Kirin Foster, the orphaned traveler.”
Diane shook her hand warmly. “Welcome to the Beach Resort. We’re glad you both arrived safely, and I hope your stay is a pleasant one.” A soft ocean breeze from the open window ruffled Silke’s hair. Kirin noted a pleasant scent.
“We’re all thrilled when Silke comes to visit,” Diane said. “We’re glad you were able to help her out with this wretched storm.”
Silke ushered Diane to the couch.