There is a darkness that is brightest when temptation is greatest. It induces the unsuspecting soul, makes him welcome all the while the flesh burns from the body as the mind subsides. He can dance in this darkness and will always feel welcome for all souls in this shadow will greet him and confirm the greatness that rests only in the mind. In this vein, a young man who is free and easy may indeed fall into such a trap for temptation is easily disguised as whimsical folly and so as a band of light stroked his face he gradually opened his eyes and the tremendous colors of grace treated him to bliss. The turquoise waters shimmered as dawn broke beyond the coral reef and his head gently rolled to his right and he beheld more heaven as the light shimmered on her dark breasts. For a moment, there was no thought, no physical feeling, but only a swift warmth that lifted his soul and permeated the grogginess. He was too young to truly appreciate the significance of the only ecstatic day he would feel for years to come but that recognition would be best saved for another day, a day when a thought of this minute in history would punish him through the darkness of his life.
He watched her breast gently rise and fall – not from a sense of lust but from an art patron admiring a masterpiece. Certainly, it was God’s beauty. They were olive brown and formed two perfect hills on the tan desert of her chest. He traced the landscape down to the tight abdomen and the bush of her pubis. One long leg lay peacefully to the side, its taut but soft skin flowing to her narrow foot with relaxed toes. She lay on her back, breathing with the ease of serenity, touching him closely, her other brown leg over his. He dared not move in the slightest for it might end that world they inhabited. Her face was angelic and was framed by long, dark silken hair. It called him to run his fingers through it but he couldn’t bring himself to touch her knowing that this moment would melt away like a single snowflake on the tip of his finger. It was an opiate high and he craved more so he lay still, breathing softly and smelling the salinity of the ocean gently lapping on the coral sand.
A day earlier he had been sitting at an outdoor café surrounded by a market that offered everything from spice to mysterious women. She strolled in, searching for someone and he was chosen over the dark and shady men and women who sat quietly at their tables sipping at cold drinks while sweat dripped from their brows. Merchants loudly sang of their wares and she said nothing but smiled and the smile sold him the mysterious woman. When they spoke it was playful and her exotic voice with an exotic but undetermined accent lulled him into a trance. When it was time to pay she told him that she wanted to escape the city and so he suggested Ambergris Cay.
The salt water sprayed their faces as the motor boat ferried them to the small island. She thanked him for rescuing her. When he asked from what, she said she was probably being paranoid. He smiled and that was when she first kissed him.
That night was perfection – much like this moment – when they drank rum with fruit juice and listened to the music of a local reggae band. They walked down the beach after a grilled catch of the day to find this piece of paradise where they frolicked with no care and no worry, drawn into each other as neither had found themselves before and the sea conducted a sonata. They danced in an embrace to music only the two could hear under the billions of pinpricks in the night sky that were held in place by sheer timelessness and, it seemed, if either took pause it would all end and the stars would shower down to earth. They swam in the moonlight and as the water enveloped them they made love for the first time.
Now, a breeze blew and brushed her hair and she stirred, stretching, and turned her back to him. She did not wake but his body was free of hers and so he turned on his side examining her firm buttocks that was as tanned as the rest of her. Centered, just at the apex of her butt was a small, circular marking and he looked closer. It was a black half-moon with a serpent wrapped around its center. The snake head stood ready to strike. It was curious to him in that day and age that any woman would have a tattoo yet it seemed appropriate on this mysterious woman. He wanted to touch it, to explore its mystery.
He turned on his back and glanced up and down the beach. Comfortable that there was no one about, he went to the water where he dove and cleansed the sand from his body. He emerged, wiping the water from his eyes and then ran his fingers through his long, unruly hair. He looked to Anais and she was still asleep. A sudden emptiness filled his body for the dance that was the night before was fading and the dream that would reverberate through his nightmares had begun. And, besides that, he realized he was ravenous: He needed her and he needed food.
He looked at their scattered clothes and wanted to dress but to dress before she woke? Would this be, somehow, inappropriate? His own self-consciousness began to revive and so he knelt down by her face and gave her a gentle kiss, a touch, slight across her cheek. She turned onto her back and stretched, feeling out for where he had been and slowly opened her eyes, squinting, to see him gone. She turned toward his hovering body and smiled.
“Good morning,” he said.
She stretched, “I’m famished. I need food.”
He held out his hand and she rose, caressing his face. They kissed and then she ran off into the water and washed herself while he dressed. He slipped on his sandy shorts and tee-shirt, found his sandals and slipped them on as well. Sand once again was a nuisance that he hoped a good shower would alleviate.
He watched her dress, not sure how much he should watch and how much he should avert his eyes but she smiled and he realized she had no inhabitations and so he removed his clothes and shared one last bit of intimacy with her before the new day unfolded.
They strolled down a virgin beach of coconut palms and sea grass toward the dusty town of San Pedro. He watched a small sailboat motor through the waters, its sails tucked tightly around the mast. He could see breakers over the reef some 300 yards offshore and he paused to contemplate a possible future in this paradise where he could fish and swim, drink and eat, and make love. To hell with the world. To hell with the life he was expected to live and the responsibilities that were inherent with his position. She watched him as he lost himself and grabbed his hand and pulled him back to her and reached up and kissed him fully on his lips, taking him into her arms and reaffirming his musings.
“I know, Jack,” she said with a glimmer in her eye, “It is a paradise and it should last forever. Can we make it last forever?”
Her voice was lusty and direct and intoxicating. He studied her and saw her eyes desperately wanting him to draw into her, to feel her own desires. He sensed she needed justification for something and he considered what he could provide. “We can try.”
They found a small government-run bakery where the sweet smell of pastries dragged them in. They bought some misshapened cinnamon rolls and walked a few feet away to a fruit stand where they purchased two mangos. They took their feast down to the beach and found a small rickety picnic table under the shade of a palm. The sun was now rising with gusto and the heat would soon descend to bake the beach and turn the spongy sand to a smoking skillet.
Jack retrieved his pocketknife and peeled back a mango as Anais tore a piece of the roll and pushed it into his mouth. The taste was sweet and the texture light like a croissant and he turned to her, mouth open for another feeding. She laughed.
“Not before you give me some mango,” she demanded.
He stripped a piece from the rough pit and slid it into her open mouth from the knife blade as juice dribbled down her chin. Her eyes closed and she smiled. He laughed.
All of the food was quickly consumed and they walked to a bed and breakfast and rented a small cottage. Jack jumped into the shower first, its cold water cutting through him like a knife as it washed away the sand and Anais quickly followed. They embraced and took turns washing each other and then fell into the bed without drying, making love and falling asleep. They awoke hours later and made love again and after, found the need for more food.
They dined in a shack 100 yards from their cottage where she ate sautéed crab and shrimp with a butter and wine sauce over a bed of rice. He ate a Wahoo steak with butter and limejuice and a side of grilled mango. Both washed it down with a Belizian sweet medium-bodied lager named Belikin. The word Belikin, as the buxom woman who served their food with indifference told them, meant “road to the east.”
On his second beer, Jack raised the bottle and gave a toast, “To the road to the east.”
Anais smiled tentatively and swallowed the last bite of crabmeat. She wiped her mouth with a cloth napkin, seemingly to wipe away a thought and asked, “So, Jack, why are you really here?”
“I told you. I’m here to escape the trappings of the Western civilization,” he said, swigging from the brown bottle.
“What is it American’s say? Bullshit?”
Jack laughed and finished off the last swig of lager, motioning to the apathetic woman for uno mas, por favor. “Yeah, it’s bullshit. My father suddenly developed a taste for bananas so I just bought a plantation.”
“But you’re from Texas. Don’t you ride horses and own millions of acres with oil wells and longhorns?” she laughed.
He responded matter-of-factly, “Yeah, we do, actually.”
“So, you’re a business man? You don’t strike me as a businessman, Jack Whitte.”
“I’m learning business. I have a lot to learn.”
“And so what are you going to do now?”
“I have to go back to Houston in three days.” Her eyes looked sad as she pushed a pouted lip forward. “Or maybe I’ll stay in paradise a while longer,” he suggested with a swig of beer.
She laughed. “Are you always that easy to persuade?”
He smiled, “No.”
She took a sip from the beer. “Then where do we start?”
He motioned with his thumb toward the cottage. “Back in bed.”
© 2009 Frederick Hink
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