The Travel Auction

by Mark Green

“Feck off! Don’t be insulting me now. I’m Irish!” I replied, tilting my head up in his general direction.

  “Sorry. I’m looking for a mate. I lost track of him back in Peru….” said Simon.

  “You got a photograph fella?” I said, holding up my hand, raising the other to make out I needed to block my eyes from the sun.

  “Sure.”

  I felt the glossy paper in my hand and rotated it several times.

  “Ugly fecker, even upside down. Nah, sorry fella, good luck with that though,” I said, in my best Irish accent, offering the picture back to him.

  “Okay, cheers,” said Simon.

  I heard his footsteps start to walk away, then they stopped.

  “What about a blind girl? Mousy hair, early thirties, pretty, in a girl next door sort of way.”

  “Can’t say I have, but fair play to her. Can’t be easy finding your way out here,” I said, wondering how long we had before the bus left.

  “God knows what he sees in her, but they say love is blind.”

  “So they do. You have a good day now,” I said and looked down at my bracelet, toying with it, signalling that our conversation was over.

  Now bugger off! I murmured under my breath.

  It was several long minutes before I heard JC beside me.

  “Ready my Irish Angel? Five quick steps and we’re on the bus. I’ve left it to the last possible moment.”

  I nodded, relieved to feel his hands slip into mine as he pulled me up. I counted five steps, felt JC’s hand jerk up, the signal to lift my foot and I climbed onto the bus behind him. There was a pause as JC handed our tickets over, then we made our way down the coach to a vacant pair of seats. I heard the engine rumble into life and I started to relax.

  “Turn to face me, Simon’s walking back this way!” he said urgently, making my heart beat faster at the possibility of getting caught. I turned away from the window and felt JC’s beard bristle against my cheek. He was very close to me. I started to say “you’d better kiss me then…” but I didn’t get to finish because he pulled me close and pressed his lips against mine. I was oblivious to the bus engine revving up as we pulled away from the curb. We were on our way — in all directions!

  With the build-up over the last few days, weeks even, it was inevitable that this wasn’t going to stay a staged kiss for long. I reached up and stroked his cheek with my fingers, pulling his lips more firmly onto mine. My excitement soared as we slowly kissed, parting only as the bus gathered speed.

  “Now tell me, was Simon really there or did you pull a fast one?”

  * *

  JC

  I smiled at her question but didn’t answer. I was buzzing inside as I studied her face, it was such a turn on to be this close to her. I reached up and gently pushed up her sunglasses. I wanted to look into her eyes, see her.

  I stroked her cheek as I studied every inch of her face, conscious of her unsteady breathing and slightly parted lips. I tried to read her eyes, but they were clouded and gave little away.

  I found myself hesitating.

  “Am I taking advantage of you Angel?”

  “Jesus! What a stupid fecking question!”

  Angel tipped her head and leaned in, our lips only just touching again when the bus hit a pothole and knocked our heads together. A cheer erupted from the other passengers, either at us, or the bus driver. I didn’t know and I didn’t care. We laughed as we rubbed our foreheads, the intimacy of the moment gone.

  Thirty One

  Angel

  By the time we arrived in La Paz it was mid afternoon and we were both starving. The breakfast on Isla Del Sol seemed days ago. After finding The Republica, a quiet courtyard hotel, we dumped our stuff and headed out. Jonny had described La Paz as a sprawling ramshackle capital city spread out across a valley, with US style wide roads and wild spaghetti overhead power cables. Big boxy and colourful 1960s Detroit minibusses lumbered past, always full. Unlike Buenos Aires, La Paz felt more relaxed, despite still being busy, hectic and loud. Yet Jonny didn’t get irritable or flustered, he seemed to be embracing the city.

  Perhaps he was adjusting to travelling and was a bit more chilled out now. Whatever the reason, we took advantage of his willingness to explore and drew some US Dollars from an ATM, then we walked a half hour loop to check out what was nearby. There were some unusual sights that Jonny pointed out. Many of the street sellers had had telephones with temporary cables strung out to their stalls, a variation on a British Telecom payphone. Some sort of celebration was in progress in the central island in the middle of the main road — lots of school kids around fifteen years old danced, played instruments and partied in a fountain, splashing water everywhere. We ended up at a Chinese restaurant on the tail end of its afternoon shift and just managed to get in before they closed. We’d not spoken much since the kiss, there didn’t seem any point. But now there was a definite sexual tension between us and small talk wasn’t going to help.

  * *

  JC

  Okay, I admit it. Simon was nowhere to be seen when we got on the bus, I pulled a fast one!

  I can’t explain why. I just had the urge to step out of the old me for a moment, be a bit cheeky. Perhaps her mischievous enthusiasm was rubbing off. I’d taken the bull by the horns and blagged it and had been pleasantly surprised by the results. That was until the bloody bus hit that pothole!

  The trouble was, knowing how much I wanted Angel now, reminded me of how badly I’d viewed her blindness in the early days. I’d had a dismissive attitude towards her back then. The old me was not a particularly nice person and I found myself hanging my head in shame.

  Perhaps I was finally starting to find out who I was (as the cliché goes) and who I wanted to become. It was time to start breaking free.

  Happier with this view of myself, I lifted my head and looked across the table at Angel. She was right, KT2 wasn’t the right name for her at all. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves and prepared to start out with my new self.

  “I suppose this is a bit like a first date,” I said.

  With all the butterflies in my stomach, it certainly felt like it.

  “Maybe, but I don’t remember being asked. I might be washing my hair later.”

  I saw a smile twitch across her lips.

  “Don’t worry, it won’t take long, there’s not much left!”

  Her smile widened.

  “Is that supposed to encourage me to say yes?”

  “Whoa, easy. I haven’t even asked yet.”

  She pulled a face.

  “So where are you taking me? For this date that you’ve yet to ask for, to which I haven’t agreed.”

  “Yet.”

  “So ask me.”

  “Angel, would you like to meet me for a drink sometime… perhaps this afternoon?”

  “Sorry, I’m growing my hair.”

  We both laughed. I counted out some cash and paid the waiter, who was hovering, keen to usher us out the door.

  “I need a drink. Fancy coming along?” she said.

  “Are you asking me out?”

  “Yeah, girl power. And knowing your misplaced sense of duty, and the fact that I can’t go on my own, you’re bound to agree. So I’m taking that as a yes. Shall we go?”

  I nodded, chuckling.

  “Yes,” I said, still grinning as I held her hand tightly and led her out of the restaurant.

  * *

  Angel

  Despite having spent the last six weeks or so living in each other’s pockets,

  twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, I found myself tingling with nerves and excitement, just like I would on a ‘proper’ first date.

  JC got the drinks in and we sat nursing them for a few minutes, neither of us saying very much. It was almost as if the rules between us had changed, and we didn’t know how to play the game now.

  One of my biggest problems when meeting someone new is lack of eye contact. How is the other person reacting to me — what’s their
body language saying? Do I get butterflies in the pit of my stomach? Does my heart rate increase? It was one of the hardest adjustments, having to rely on tone of voice, or touch to let me know how things were going. So I often find myself being more extrovert to try and get a reaction, so I can decide if I like someone. I also need to get a feel for whether they like me, so I don’t make a fool of myself and play up to someone who isn’t interested. Maybe that’s why I seem a bit loud and outrageous sometimes; I know it’s scared men off in the past.

  “You okay Angel? You’re a bit quiet.”

  “Actually I’m struggling a bit.”

  “Oh. With me? We can go back to the hotel if you like…”

  “I don’t want to, unless you do?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  We sat there for a few awkward moments, then I heard him chuckle.

  “Look at us, acting like two shy teenagers. I sometimes wonder what you’re thinking, but it’s difficult to tell. I wanted to ask how hard it is for you, not seeing someone’s face, gauging what sort of mood they’re in. Is that what you’re struggling with?”

  I nodded, surprised at his perception and started to feel a bit tearful.

  “It’s difficult. Whatever you think of me - tough outer shell, loud and obnoxious at times, I’m a softie inside. Us sitting opposite each other like a business meeting, makes it hard to get a sense of how we’re getting along.”

  JC said nothing for a moment, but then I heard him get up and I felt him slide into the booth beside me.

  “No. I’ve been sitting there thinking the same thing Angel, trying to put myself in your position. It can’t be easy.”

  I felt my body tingle as he brushed my hand.

  “Just try shutting your eyes, then you’ll know.”

  “I’ve been doing exactly that from the moment we sat down,” he said, resting his hand beside mine, so close I could feel the soft hairs on the side of his wrist.

  “You’re joking.”

  “I’ve had my eyes shut trying to understand some of what you have to deal with every day.”

  I’ve heard a lot of cheesy chat up lines over the years, but actually all someone had to do was sit next to me and say they’d been trying to understand how I felt by shutting their eyes.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” I said quietly, reaching out with my little finger, touching his hand, stroking his skin, enjoying the nervous excitement in the pit of my stomach.

  * *

  JC

  I know we’d been holding hands every day for the last six weeks, but this was

  no longer out of necessity. Now I wanted to.

  I felt my skin tingle as she caressed my hand and we talked about the adventures we’d had so far and laughed, filling in some of the gaps for each other with our own take on the different situations and people we’d met.

  Time just flew.

  * *

  I don’t think we had more than three or four drinks all evening, and by the time we left I hardly felt the effect of the alcohol at all. I did have a few stomach pains though and remember wondering why I wasn’t feeling quite right. Earlier in the evening I’d put the unsettled feeling down to nerves, but this was different, now the cramps were getting uncomfortable. I tried to forget about them as we wondered back to the hotel, hand in hand.

  Another cramp hit me just as we were nearing the main entrance and I had to stop to catch my breath. I doubled up, feeling bloated, concern hovering at the back of my mind.

  “What’s up?” said Angel, as I groaned. I took a minute to steady myself, then straightened and hobbled into the reception.

  “Stomach pains, not good. Sure it will pass in a minute…”

  “This isn’t setting the scene for a tactical retreat is it?”

  I tried to laugh, wanted to, but was feeling decidedly groggy. I collected the key and hurried us along to the room.

  “I guess not!” said Angel, excitement and amusement in her voice.

  I only just made it back to the room. I unlocked the door, led Angel inside and made a dash for the toilet. I didn’t even have time to apologise.

  “ARRRRAAAAHHHH!!!”

  I have never been so ill in all my life! I knelt with my head in the toilet bowl for ages, throwing up constantly.

  I felt completely drained, sprawled out on my hands and knees, clutching the side of the bowl, my arms scarcely able to hold myself up, all strength sapped from my body. It was a horrible state to be in.

  “This is probably one of the more extreme reactions I’ve had to a first date…” Angel said outside the open bathroom door.

  I could barely respond as another wave of retching overcame me. But it didn’t stop there. Having gotten rid of everything, including my stomach lining, the other end started. This went on every hour. Each time I tried to sip some water and get some fluids down me, it came straight out again.

  “Sorry Angel, it’s not pleasant in there,” I said, slumping down on the edge of the bed.

  “I’d say you have food poisoning JC.”

  “Oh bloody hell, excuse me…”

  I ran back into the toilet and let rip again, unable to believe I was so ill. I was gutted that it had happened today of all days. By the time I made it out again I was seriously drained. I felt as though I’d lost two or three stone, yet still the stomach cramps continued.

  “We need to get some water down you, is there any bottled stuff left?” she said, shuffling along the bed to drape her arm over my sagging shoulders. God I felt rough.

  “Only a few mouthfuls, forgot to get any more.”

  “Okay. I’ll ring reception. Now JC, if you’d wanted to let me down gently, you just had to say.”

  I attempted to smile, not that she could see it of course, it was more to encourage my own state of mind. Angel hugged me gently, then shuffled back towards the head of the bed and felt for the phone.

  “Hola Senora, es posible un poco de aqua por favor? Si. My boyfriend, very ill. Si. Muchas gracias.”

  It wasn’t long before one of the girls from reception appeared at the door, bless her. I took the bottles of water and mumbled a thank you. She glanced over in Angel’s direction, smiling. I think she may have noticed her lack of eye contact, so there was a good chance she’d realise Angel was blind. To be honest, the way I felt right now, there was nothing I could do to try and cover things up. It was over to the receptionist’s integrity as to whether she let on to anyone else we were staying here.

  “Sorry Angel. This is a bugger,” I said as I sat down next to her, nursing the water bottle, trying to force small mouthfuls down my raw throat.

  “You sure know how to show a girl a good time,” she said, putting her arm around me as I slumped forwards, elbows on knees, waiting to see how long it would take the water to go through me.

  “Timing was never my strong point.”

  “Shame, because you were about to find out if the old saying is true.”

  I frowned, lifting my head to turn towards her.

  “What saying?”

  “That there are two sure things in life; death and a nurse.”

  I chuckled, shaking my head. Then I leapt up and staggered to the toilet again.

  “I offer myself to you as an Inca sacrifice and you run away, bloody typical!” she shouted at the door, but her humour was lost on me as I purged my system again.

  And again.

  * *

  Angel

  It wasn’t quite the end to the evening I’d been hoping for!

  Poor JC, if he wasn’t so ill it would be funny. I tried to lighten his suffering with some good old nurse humour, but he wasn’t having any of it. In a strange way, I felt a sense of comfort in his being ill. It seemed to boost my confidence, because I could now put my training to some use and look after him for a change. I doubt he’d appreciate my upbeat take on the situation though, boy was he suffering.

  He was up regularly during the night, returning after every visit to the loo a little weaker and
more despondent. Fortunately I’d insisted we brought the medical kit with us from the main packs, which contained some rehydration sachets. They didn’t seem to help though, because an hour or so after he’d mixed it up and drunk a few mouthfuls, out it came again.

  It goes without saying that neither of us got much sleep that night. But at least he wasn’t being sick anymore. JC returned from his latest visit to the bathroom groaning.

  “How long do you think it’ll go on for?”

  “The rest periods are getting longer, so I think your system is on the mend. But you’ll probably be like this for another twelve hours or so. Keep drinking the water, try and force it down, even if you don’t want to. Is the liquid getting clearer?”

  “Um, yeah, a bit.”

  “Okay, good. Your body is flushing it out. It’s just a case of keeping going. Stay in bed today, drink as much fluid as you can manage and I’ll look in on you this evening.”

  It took him a few moments to register what I’d just said.

  “You’re leaving me?”

  “Of course. I have a new city to explore,” I said indignantly, wishing I could see his face.

  “Gotcha!” I said, reaching out to tickle him gently.

  “You cow! And I’d be careful tickling me at the moment unless you want an accident in the bed. My bum is a loaded weapon, the safety catch is off and it’s pointing in your direction!”

  We laughed, exhausted from the lack of sleep, but at least he could see a funny side to all this.

  “What are we going to do about food? For you I mean,” he said. I was touched that he was concerned about me.

  “You know what, in a completely level headed, non-dieting kind of way, I think I’ll survive for a few hours. Maybe when you’re up and about, we’ll go out for a slap up meal. If you’re lucky I might let you have some bread and soup.”

  “Great, more liquid!”

  * *

  JC

  I guess it was pay back time, being ill and having Angel to look after me. She helped keep my spirits up. This trip was turning out to be a real partnership. Who would have thought that when we’d started out? Not me, that’s for sure.

  Just as Angel had predicted, the visits to the toilet became less frequent and by late afternoon it was nearly three hours since I’d last gone. I still had stomach cramps, but Angel was sure they were now hunger pangs. It certainly felt like I’d lost a whole lot of weight.