by Penny Dixon
It’s getting too dark to play; the players are winding up, folding up the net, reclaiming their T-shirts. The spectators drift off. There’s just us and a few stragglers in the sea, riding the big waves in the dark.
‘Can I get you a drink?’
I look back at the kiosk. ‘It’s closed,’ I point out.
‘I have a bottle of Hennessey in my car.’
‘A bit strong for me but don’t let me stop you.’
I watch him walk away, strong, purposeful, unhurried steps. I’m missing his energy already. I turn down the volume on the voice of reason. I’m not doing anything wrong, I remind it. I’m having a chat with a young man in a public place on holiday. There’s no harm in that.
He returns with a medium flask of Hennessey, a small bottle of coke and two plastic cups, one of which contains ice cubes.
‘My, you’re prepared.’
‘You sure you won’t change your mind?’
‘No thanks.’ I’m not sure what he’s put in the drinks, besides, I need to keep a clear head.
He sets everything out on the table, pours a couple of fingers of brandy, tops it up with coke, drops in a few cubes of ice, sips it and nods approvingly. He’s got long fingers, a steady hand and knows exactly how he likes his drink. He slides right up close to me again and puts the cup to my lips.
‘A little sip?’
I shake my head.
‘Pleeeease. I feel so bad drinking by myself.’
Anyone else and I would have stuck to my guns, but there’s something about the way he says please, like he’s pleading and teasing at the same time. There’s a corner of my soul that wants to please him. I take a sip and swallow slowly. He feeds me brandy and coke as we exchange the “getting to know you stuff”. We start with birthdays. He quickly volunteers that he’s thirty six. I gulp. I know I should stop now, get up and walk away, thank him for his brandy and wish him a good life. I tell him it’s rude to ask a woman her age. He laughs and asks if I still believe in that old fashioned stuff. I don’t answer that to me it’s not old fashioned, to me it’s of my time. I was hoping he’d be at least forty. It’s so hard to judge men’s age when they shave their heads. He tells me about his siblings, he’s number three of four, admires his sister in the States, a lawyer. He’s been a civil engineer for six years. I’d assumed he’s Bajan till he says he got his degree from the university at home.
‘Where’s home?’
‘Guyana.’ He’s a little indignant that I think his accent’s Bajan. I plead ignorance and apologise.
‘What about you Joseee? What do you do?’
‘I teach,’ I lie.
‘Big ones? Little ones?’
‘Big ones.’
‘Children?’
‘Three boys.’
‘Strong woman.’ He looks at me like I’ve just won a prize. ‘How old?’
I bring all their ages down by five years. He doesn’t seem surprised that I have a thirteen year old, thinks he may have something in common with his son.
‘Husband?’
‘Wife?’
‘No, girlfriend, very casual.’
‘Age?’
‘Twenty.’ I gasp. I have children older than her.
‘Husband?’
‘Yes.’
He feeds me another sip of brandy. As he pulls the cup back, he leans forward and very softly touch my lips with his. An electrical current passes between us. I know it sounds clichéd but I guess the clichés have to come from somewhere and right now there’s electricity between us. Not full hair-raising power, but enough to churn up the remnants of my lunch.
He lets them rest there, his lips soft against mine. He hovers, barely touching me while tremors go off inside my body. Every nerve ending that’s been dulled by the events of the last six months is now alive, glowing, flashing like Christmas tree lights. I catch my breath as he slowly pushes his tongue inside my mouth to find mine. I hesitate for a second to hear the voice say ‘What are you doing?’ before pressing the mute button and allowing his tongue to snake all over mine. I can’t think, don’t want to think. I feel his hand moving up my thigh, stroking his way to my mound. I reach out and stop him suddenly, embarrassed that he’ll know how hot and wet I am for him.
I pull back from him, take one of his biceps in both my hands, squeeze it. He’s solid, firm, defined. I slowly unzip his top, press my hand against his bare chest, take in his tightly curled hair, tight taut skin. He takes my hand, moves it slowly down his belly to his crotch. He spreads his legs wide. I run my hand over his jeans and feel him hard against my fingers. His breath come in little gasps. I lean forward and kiss him as I unzip his jeans. He’s holding me tight with one hand and stroking my shoulders with the other.
‘Oh baby,’ he groans.
I’m about to put my hand inside his underpants, take his throbbing hardness into my hand, know its size, its shape, when I come to my senses. The voice is on full volume. ‘What are you doing with this stranger calling you ‘baby’? Richard would never call you ‘baby’. You’re too old to be anybody’s baby. What are you thinking of? That’s the problem, Josi – you’re not thinking!’
I pull right away from him. Glimpse his surprise as he opens his eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say, looking at the sand.
‘Sorry for what? You enjoying it right?’
‘I shouldn’t be.’
‘Come on baby. There’s nothing wrong with this.’
‘I don’t even know you,’ I protest.
‘Ask me anything. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.’
‘I’m sorry. I have to go.’
‘You have a curfew?’ he asks mockingly. ‘It’s only nine o’clock.’
‘No curfew, but its dark now and I’m walking back.’
‘Don’t worry, I give you a ride.’
‘No. I like to walk.’
‘I can’t let you do that, and you a visitor and all.’ He’s still mocking me.
‘No really, I like to walk. I’ll be fine.’
He reaches for my shoulder and pulls me close again. ‘So when I going to see you again?’
I can’t believe he wants to see me again after that fiasco.
‘I train on the beach in the mornings,’ I offer.
‘What time?’
‘About seven, I get here about seven.’
‘OK, I see you tomorrow at seven. Now I taking you home.’
‘No really, I’ll be fine. I want to walk.’ He sees he’s fighting a losing battle. We go off in opposite directions, him to the car park, me to Enterprise Drive and the walk home. He doesn’t know it isn’t him I don’t trust. Something is rampaging through my body. I don’t trust myself in an enclosed place with him.
‘I was just about to send out a search party,’ Celia jokes when I get back.
I slump onto the settee. ‘I met that guy from last night down by the beach.’
‘And?’ she looks at me over her glasses.
‘I’m in a dangerous place, girl.’
‘You know I’m not one to judge but just remember there’s AIDS on the island.’
‘I know. There’s AIDS everywhere. That’s part of what marriage is supposed to protect you from.’
Grant
I can’t remember the last time I watch the phone so much for a call. All day I have it either in my hand or in my pocket. Every time it ring my heart jump, but I have to look cool. I don’t want Mel to suspect anything.
She sleeping when I get home last night. She stir a little when I shower but she can sleep heavy. She and Darron the same. I slide in beside her, lay on my back and play the whole night in my head. Sometime I give my number to a woman. She might call or not. Some of them just take the number to get rid of you. I can usually tell which ones not going to call. Most times I just trying my luck, see if I get lucky. Tonight different. I really want to see her again. Joseee. I should’ve asked her if it short for Josephin
e, but she didn’t want to talk. I can still feel her moving. Although I wash off her scent, I still smell her in my head, heavy, deep, sexy. I can’t sleep. I’m stiff as a rod. I turn over and try to wake up Mel. I need some relief. She roll over and turn her back to me. I go in the bathroom, put my shirt with her smell back on and relieve myself.
By the time I wake up, Mel and Darron in the kitchen laughing.
‘How was The Plantation last night?’ Mel ask as I come to join them.
‘The same.’ I’m blank. Don’t want to give anything away.
‘Still full of old people?’ They both laugh.
‘You two think anybody over thirty old.’
‘Can I watch you play football today Daddy?’
‘You finish you homework?’
‘No but I have all day to finish it.’
‘I tell you already, if you want to come with me, make sure you do everything!’
He drop his disappointed eyes to his empty cereal bowl. The truth is, I don’t want him with me today because I might get a call from Joseee and I would want to go straight from football. That way I could tell Mel that I go for a drink with the boys and forget the time.
‘You want some egg and toast?’ Mel ask me, trying to bring back to life the atmosphere I just kill by saying no to Darron.
‘Yes baby.’ Trying to keep her sweet.
All through the game I can’t concentrate. Every five minutes I stop to check my phone. We lose the game 3-2 and some of them blame me for being distracted.
‘I hope she worth it,’ a very angry captain say as we leave the pitch.
‘Is a business call I’m expecting. You know how bad things are right now.’
‘Just make sure you on better form next week or your place might be in danger.’
I go home and try to settle. I play a computer game with Darron to make it up to him. He beat me badly so he’s happy. I do a bit of surfing, wash the car, help Mel with the dinner. When I get a call I keep it short. I don’t want to miss her call.
Mel just sharing out the dinner when the phone ring. I don’t recognise the number. I answer straight away.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, it’s me, Josi, do you remember me? We met last night.’ Like I could forget.
I put on my business voice because I tell Mel I’m expecting call from a woman who wants to build a house. Tell her I give her my card last night. Say she will try and ring me as soon as possible. Tell her nothing might happen, but if I get a call it could be a small contract.
‘Yes, I remember. Where are you now?’
‘On my way to the beach.’ There’s over fifty beaches in Barbados. I didn’t even find out where she staying. If she say Bathsheba I’m fucked.
‘Which one?’
‘Miami – some people call it Enterprise. Do you know it?’
I silently thank God.
‘Yes. How long till you get there?’
She walking. Will be there in ten minutes.
‘I’ll come now,’ I say, ignoring Mel’s raised eyebrow. She pointing at the food she just put on the table.
I click off the phone. Give her a hug. ‘Sorry babes, there might be a deal in this. I’ll put it in the microwave when I get back.’
‘When?’
‘Shouldn’t be too long.’
She not happy but she can’t complain. We need the money.
I grab my briefcase, a bottle of coke from the fridge and my sunglasses.
‘You going like that?’ Mel surprised I’m still in my jeans.
‘Is an informal meeting. Is Sunday evening. See you later babes. Wish me luck.’
My heart beating fast. Just hearing her voice make me start getting stiff. I don’t have much money to buy drinks. I carry ice in a flask in the car, and I have a bottle of Hennessey in the glove compartment. I run back and pick up a couple of plastic cups from the kitchen before Mel notice. I put on some aftershave, the one I keep in the car.
Is only a ten minute drive from my house to Miami Beach but the journey feel slow; like the car driving through thick tar. When I get to the car park I put my briefcase in the trunk, sling my sunglasses round my neck and go to look for her.
She not hard to find. I see her sitting on one of the picnic tables near the volleyball game. She really into it and don’t see me coming.
‘You like volleyball?’ I whisper right up in her ear. She jump and swing her head back. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.’
I slide on the table beside her, right up close till I’m touching her.
She wearing a little red vest top, a little skirt and a black pair of sandals. She have her legs stretch out in front of her. She watch the game and I watch her. She have her hair tie back so I can see more of her face. In daylight, without make-up, she look about three or four years older. She have nice skin, no marks, no pimples. I put her at about forty, maybe forty one. I check out her left hand. The ring’s still there. She wasn’t just wearing it for show last night then. I’m disappointed that she still watching the game and not taking much notice of me. I tell her I didn’t think she was going to phone, that I would have been very disappointed. She don’t answer. I stroke her arm. She smile at me and go back to watching the game.
At last the game finish. I ask her if she want a drink. Although she say no, I go and get it anyway. She say no now but might change her mind later.
Last night she don’t want to talk, now that’s all she want to do. I answer all her questions quick and try to be as honest as I can. Yes I have a girlfriend but she don’t need to know about the other complications. She don’t say anything about her husband and I don’t push. He’s not here with her, that’s all I need to know. He’s not going to show up and get between me and her and what might happen tonight.
The ice melting fast in the Hennessey. I offer her some, hold it to her lips. When she sip it I take it as a good sign. I lean forward and try to kiss her. Something in the way she’s holding herself stiff tell me to go easy, don’t rush her and spoil things. I just let my lips rest on hers. She don’t push me away. Her lips like Jeanette’s, soft and warm. Before I know it I have my tongue in her mouth, licking and sucking and flicking and filling up every space. Her mouth taste of Hennessey and coke, of sea and sunshine. She taking me to a place I haven’t been to in a long time, she softening, coming to me. Her skin soft under the tight muscles of her thighs. I feel the heat coming from the top of them. I’m wondering if those lips will be the same as the ones I’m kissing, hot and sweet, plump and succulent when she suddenly pull away.
‘What’s up?’ I whisper, even though there nobody close to hear me.
She don’t answer but start to massage my arm. The same kind of strokes she was using on the dance floor last night. She open my top and put her hand on my chest. I know she can feel my heat.
She start to kiss me again and I slide her hand down my chest to my crotch. It so tight down there, I open my legs wide to give her easy access. I pull her close. When she pull my zip down I’m anticipating her touch so much. I don’t know what I say or do but she suddenly pull right back.
‘I’m sorry,’ she say, looking at the ground.
I feel like grabbing her hand and pushing it down there to finish the job. If she know how stiff and painful it feel right now she wouldn’t be sitting there saying sorry.
‘Sorry for what? You enjoying it, aren’t you?’ I try to make my voice soft.
‘I shouldn’t be,’ she say.
I try and persuade her that there’s nothing wrong with what we doing. Certainly not from my point of view. She say she don’t know me. I tell her to ask me anything she want but she say she have to go. I can’t believe she going to leave me like this.
I offer to take her home. Maybe I can change her mind in the car. Maybe it’s because it’s open and she don’t want anybody to see us. Even though it dark some women funny about that kind of thing. She refuse that too. Say she going to walk. I don
’t believe she just going to walk away from me again.
‘When can I see you again?’
She say she train on the beach at seven o’clock in the mornings. Seven o’clock. I never go to the beach that early, anyway, I drop Mel to work at that time.
‘How long you stay on the beach?’
‘Depends when I finish. Maybe an hour, maybe two.’
I promise to meet her at the beach in the morning. I watch her walk away and hope nothing happen to her, because I might be the last person to see her tonight before she get home.
When I get home, Mel and Darron want to know how the meeting went. I tell them she interested. She have a couple more plots of land to look at but I think she like what I show her I can do and the kind of prices I charge. They hoping it lead to something. I’m not hungry but I eat the dinner Mel microwave for me. After my Sunday dinner at the table I have a McDonalds later in the bedroom.
Josi
I train with Carlisle who congratulates me on my progress, on my improving speed. He suggests I move up to running on the dry sand, increase the level of difficulty, but I tell him I’m not ready for that yet. I’m on holiday, not training for a marathon. He asks me how my weekend was; did I enjoy the volleyball? I tell him yes, but I didn’t see him there. He says he was only passing and I looked busy. I’m embarrassed, wondering how much he saw but there’s nothing on his face or in his voice to suggest he observed more than the earlier part of the game, where I simply sat with Grant on the table. I agree to train with him tomorrow and he’s gone quickly as he’s working an early shift.
By quarter to eight I’ve convinced myself I won’t see Grant again after last night’s debacle. Ten minutes later I’m thinking of leaving, when he shows up wearing black knee length swimming shorts and wrap around sunglasses. I can’t see his eyes but I can appreciate everything else. Broad shoulders, muscular arms. Not bulging, more like the ripples left by the sea on the sand at night, like it is first thing in the morning before the army of walkers transform it into a thousand mini dunes. His chest and firm hard belly taper down to that inverted V at his waist that I love in a man. Richard is more a straight sides man. The muscles in his legs undulate as his long strides bring him closer to me.
