The Travel Auction

by Mark Green

  And then the rain started. Bullet size droplets pelted down relentlessly on us — they don’t call it the rainforest for nothing! Despite the dense jungle we didn’t have much shelter and within seconds were saturated. I began slipping on the muddy path, tripping over tree routes and tangled plants with tentacle-like grips, nearly pulling JC to the floor with me many times. Added to this were the animal noises — some bloody tree frog calling his mate, far off screeching monkeys, branches crashing as they swung across the treetops and screaming insects flapping their wings around my head — they sounded as big as rats. Challenging jungle conditions didn’t even come close...

  I fell over again and again, flustered by the threatening sounds and slippery path, but JC was always there to pull me back up. How ironic that he was coming into his own now when I really needed him, just as I was about to burst his bubble…

  * *

  JC

  I guess walking blind on level ground is difficult enough, but now I really felt for Angel. She was having to navigate the jungle path without being able to see any of the hazards ahead. I took my hat off to her for gritting her teeth and hanging in there, especially in the stifling heat and pummelling rain. We did at least have plenty of water, but by the time we got back to the camp for lunch we were both drenched in sweat and rain, exhausted from the intensity of the walk.

  It was a strange sensation, having to tread water emotionally. Lunch came and went, a fantastic local meat and rice dish, served in the marginally cooler dining hut, where we had the luxury of a gentle breeze blowing off the river. We made polite conversation with Monty as we ate, who appeared clued up enough not to push questions about the two of us. He must have sensed things weren’t great between Angel and I. A look we exchanged during the meal seemed to suggest he understood. He must have seen countless couples struggle with the oppressive heat and physical demands of the jungle.

  We had some free time before setting off on a different afternoon trail, so we crashed out in the communal area hammocks for half an hour. Somehow I doubted we’d have enough time for our discussion before the walk, which was to be ‘the medicine trail’ as Monty called it. We were joined by one of the village elders, who, with Monty interpreting, showed us natural plant remedies for every kind of ailment the villagers were likely to suffer in their lifetimes; nature’s problems all had solutions, it was just a case of knowing where to look.

  * *

  I’d been willing the evening meal to arrive all day, so as soon as we’d finished eating dinner (which was in virtual silence) we made our excuses and headed off to our guest accommodation. My heart rate was up. I was anxious about what might be said, but was determined not to sleep until everything that needed to come out into the open had been well and truly aired.

  I frowned as I approached the front door, noticing that I’d left the light on. This was easily done as there was no electricity between ten in the morning to six at night. I unlocked the front door and led Angel in, only to be confronted with a mass of buzzing insects — some of which were as big as flying hamsters! They were using the light like a punch bag, constantly bashing into it, mesmerized.

  “Shit!”

  I heard Angel scream as she frantically swatted bugs away from her face, her arms flailing, getting extremely upset and agitated — on the verge of totally freaking out. I grabbed her hand and quickly led her into the main room, sat her down on her bed and threw the mosquito net over her. I switched the overhead light off and opened the door, waving my arms trying the encourage the bugs out, but with little success. After a while I gave up, realising that I was deliberately delaying things. I didn’t really want to have the talk either, but it had to be done.

  I ducked down and used my torch to find my way back, illuminating several pairs of eyes, some as big as coat buttons, hovering in mid air. I sat down on my own single bed opposite Angel’s and pulled the mosquito net down over my head. I sat there for a moment, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, wondering if I should have plonked myself down on her bed, but that might have felt like I’d invaded her space.

  So I sat on my bed waiting patiently, quite a feat after practically tearing my hair out all day wondering what had upset her so much.

  Thirty Six

  Angel

  The insects screeching and buzzing around inside the hut didn’t help, but it was the torturous silence between us that really upset me. I don’t know why, maybe because we’d shared a bed for most of the last eight weeks. But when he led me to my bed, then left me, it really hurt. Didn’t he care at all?

  I reached out to touch the mosquito net, knowing it was essential, but it felt like an emotional force field had dropped between us.

  Perhaps that was no bad thing.

  “Here we are,” he said softly from across the room.

  “Yup.”

  Silence.

  Where on earth should I start?

  A distant rumble built into a muted crack of thunder and rain started pattering against the thatched roof, bringing with it a decomposing vegetation kind of smell.

  “You seem to have gone through a dramatic change in outlook Angel. What’s triggered it? Was it something I did?”

  I sat there thinking.

  “Not exactly, no.”

  I wiped tears away from my face, fighting the urge to ask him for a hug.

  “The thing is… oh crap.”

  I said a silent prayer and with a shaky voice I began.

  “It’s like this, JC. I’m late.”

  Wait for that penny to drop…

  There was a long pause.

  “Late. As in your period?”

  There you go.

  “Um, yeah.”

  What the hell must you think of me?

  “Was I any good?”

  I almost laughed, covering it up with a cough. If this wasn’t such a hopeless situation, I’d have laughed my head off.

  “How late?” he said, before I had a chance to explain.

  “Maybe six or seven weeks.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  “The first month we were here I didn’t even register what the date was and what should normally be happening. I suppose I got caught up in the excitement of our travels, the fun we were having. During the bus journey I had all that time to think about how happy I am travelling with you. Then it hit me and I started counting back…”

  JC

  Stunned didn’t even come close.

  My heart was racing and my throat bone dry. I struggled to get any words out, but I had to ask.

  “This is going to sound awful, but did you sneak off with someone else while we were travelling?

  “No, of course not. Even if I’d wanted to, when would I have had the opportunity? It happened before I even met you.”

  I didn’t really want to hear the details, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  “What happened? Aside from the obvious.”

  I watched her silhouette behind the mosquito netting. The rain was growing in intensity on the roof, accompanied by distant thunder booming closer overhead.

  “He wasn’t some random bloke. Look, the downside to being blind, despite my apparent outgoing personality, is that my confidence can dip. It takes a lot of getting used to, not being able to see yourself look desirable, feel attractive. I suppose that’s how Pete was able to work his old charm on me.”

  “Pete your husband?”

  “Soon to be ex-husband. That’s the reason he came round, to sign the divorce papers… I suppose I was at a low ebb and he’s a real charmer…”

  I heard her sigh. There was movement behind the netting, perhaps she was rubbing her eyes.

  “We shared a bottle of wine, ended up laughing a lot of painful stuff off. He was full of himself, going on about a research study in Australia looking into hereditary eye defects. He said that in a few years people like me could have most of their vision restored. I don’t know how accurate or honest he was being, it may just have been a line. Even so, there was sti
ll a familiarity between us, we’d shared time. Perhaps that’s how we ended up in bed together.”

  “For old times’ sake?” I said, regretting saying it as soon as the words left my mouth.

  “Does it really matter? I made a mistake.”

  “Do you know for sure?”

  “Danni is bringing me a pregnancy test kit.”

  That explained the Farmacia and her private chat with Danni before we got on the boat. I’d thought little of it at the time, but it was all making sense now.

  “Does Pete know?”

  “No, how could he? I’ve only just realised myself that something was amiss.”

  She laughed a hollow laugh.

  “Something amiss. That sounds pretty flippant,” she said, scolding herself.

  We sat quietly for a while, listening to the rain pound the straw roof from the sanctuary of our separate beds. Then an unpleasant possibility occurred to me.

  “Do you have any memory gaps from that evening? Did you wake up in the morning with a fuzzy head?” I said.

  She hesitated before replying.

  “I can’t remember my conversation with Pete word for word, but no major memory gaps. Why?”

  I took a deep breath, took my time deciding how best to respond, acutely aware of the delicacy of my question.

  “Is there any chance something was slipped into your wine and…”

  “No. Pete’s a smooth talker, a loveable rogue perhaps, but he’s not capable of that.”

  “Are you sure? You were vulnerable Angel. It would have been easy for him.”

  There was a long pause.

  “It was consensual. I made a mistake. I’m sorry.”

  I sat there in silence, trying to get my head round everything. I wanted to say to her why are you sorry? This happened before we’d even met, and you didn’t know you might be pregnant. But I was unable to say a word.

  * *

  Angel

  The thunder that had been distant when we’d started our conversation, was now getting really loud, a cascading drum roll that exploded overhead. Mother Nature was unleashing her anger on me for screwing up so badly.

  JC’s silence was the real killer though. Couldn’t he think of anything to say?

  There was a bright flash that must have been lightening as more thunder exploded close by. The noise was a convenient cover as all my pent-up anxiety and stress came pouring out again.

  I leant forwards, hugging my knees, crying again.

  Thirty Seven

  JC

  What’s actually changed between the two of us? She made a mistake, but it was before your time. Okay, it has massive consequences, but does it change how you feel? No. Yes, and no. Bloody hell! I’m so glad we didn’t end up in bed together. Are you really? No. Bollocks! So the question is, what are you going to do about it? Nothing I say will make any difference. You sure about that? No. So there’s only one thing for it…

  I could have gone on wrestling with myself for the rest of the night, taking my normal analytical, measured approach, or I could just follow my instinct. I took a deep breath and made my decision.

  I rolled out of my bed, lifted the mosquito net surrounding Angel and climbed in, making her jump as I pulled her close and held her. I felt a dampness on my tee-shirt as her tears soaked in. I hugged her tightly, calming her shuddering body, overcome with emotion myself as I felt the tears spill from my eyes.

  Above all else, whatever happened from here on, we’d been through too much together for me to let Angel suffer alone. We sat there like that for a long, long time. The storm became increasingly loud and violent overhead, until eventually it started to blow through.

  * *

  “What am I going to do?” said Angel between sobs, her voice muffled on my chest.

  “Not you Angel, us. We’re going to wait until Wednesday when Danni comes. Then, we’ll know. And when we do… we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

  I closed my eyes and held her even tighter, a feeling unlike any other washing over me.

  * *

  Angel

  I don’t know what time it was when JC finally left my bed to try and get some sleep in his own, but it must have been the early hours.

  Little more had been said since he came to comfort me. It was a waiting game now until Danni arrived. How would either of us truly know how we’d feel until after the test result?

  * *

  The waiting was agonising, but we just had to put a brave face on it and tread water for a couple of days. Despite this, or because of it, the jungle seemed a little easier to cope with. JC was as attentive as ever, but it seemed a relief to him that the unknown was now out in the open. And there seemed to be a closeness between us, despite all our developing feelings being put on hold.

  JC

  I suppose it was to keep occupied, stop myself going crazy, that made me rummage in my pack for the e-mails I’d printed off in La Paz. We’d had dinner and were killing time before going to sleep, which we both desperately needed after the previous night’s thunderstorms. I sat on my bed under the mosquito net and started reading the messages by the light of my torch.

  There was another message from Simon, more rational this time, pleading with me to get in contact. The deal he was negotiating would set us up for life. He couldn’t understand why we were being so dismissive over so much money. I smirked as I discarded the page.

  There were several other e-mails from newspaper and media reporters, which I read with amusement, then also cast aside. The last handful of messages I spent a little more time over.

  * *

  E-Mail From: Maria Stockton

  To: Angel Eyes

  Subject: Butch Analyst and the Sundance Sexpot Ride Again!

  * *

  Hi Guys,

  Whether or not you’re a couple yet, (in the carnal, romp between the sheets sense…) I’m writing to you as one. You are after all fugitives, being hunted like wild animals, pursued by the world’s press and still managing to stay one step ahead of them… (by the way, did you like the title of this e-mail?!)

  * *

  No let-up back here, I’m still being hassled most days to dish the dirt on you. I can only vouch for Angel of course, but I tell them there aren’t enough hours in the day to tell all the stories. Then I put the phone down or slam the door in their faces. Make sure you don’t get caught, I’m quite enjoying all the attention!

  * *

  I’m not even going to speculate where you might be now, the computer could be bugged, but I hope you’re still having an amazing time. One thing’s for sure, it can’t compare to the routine and boredom of life here! That said, the supermarket has become rather fun, paparazzi-bashing with my trolley - I kid you not. Last week I was pursued round the freezer section by a young lad, firing questions at me. I swung my trolley round and caught him squarely in the balls. It brought tears to his eyes. I did at least do the decent thing and offer him a packet of frozen chips to calm the swelling down. Funny, he didn’t seem interested in asking any more questions after that!

  * *

  We’re taking bets at work on how long you’ll last without getting caught, I reckon you’ll make it to the end. I’ve got a tenner on you both, don’t let me down!

  * *

  Gotta run now, my paparazzi need me! Take care of yourselves and keep up the good work. Angel, you’ll be amazed when you get back to see how many people you’ve inspired; if you can travel all that way being blind and avoid capture, just think what everyone else can achieve if they put their minds to it. I’m serious, you’re becoming a modern day heroine, so keep going and show them all!

  Maria x

  * *

  I had to smile. Maria had a way with words and was a true friend to Angel. I put Maria’s message on the bed away from the pile to be binned and held the last two e-mails in my hand. One was from Kate Thornly the 1st and the other from Pete, Angel’s soon to be ex-husband. In the confusion since her bombshell, I couldn’t qui
te remember if they were still married or not.

  I sighed, wondering if it actually mattered. I dropped my eyes back to the e-mails.

  * *

  E-Mail From: Princess Sparkle

  To: Jonny Blue Bottle

  Subject: I Messed Up, I’m SORRY!!!

  * *

  Dear Jonny,

  If the first apology was unusual, this second one is unheard of. I’m sorry Jonny. I just felt we’d drifted apart. It was flattering, the attention I got from Frank, but with hindsight I should have taken it with a pinch of salt and stayed faithful. I’m sorry I didn’t, and I really regret it. I know I messed up. Will you forgive me?

  * *

  I’ve had reporters hounding me. It’s horrible. They shout nasty probing questions through the letterbox, ring me all the time and go through the bins looking for juicy gossip. It’s embarrassing and if I’m honest, humiliating, especially as it rubs in how much I messed up...

  * *

  I couldn’t read anymore and took great pleasure in slowly and clinically tearing the page into the tiniest pieces possible.

  Bugger off Kate Thornly the 1st. You made your decision. You only get one chance, and you blew it.

  That felt much better. I had a thought and glanced over at Angel, wondering if she could hear me reducing the message to confetti, but she appeared to be listening to her MP3 player. I hoped the music was taking her mind off her predicament. Correction, our predicament. I was left with the last e-mail, the one from Pete. I wondered if I should read it. Normally I wouldn’t even consider prying, but I’d have to read it aloud to Angel anyway and I’d already set a precedent reading Maria’s message.

  I held up the paper and began to read.

  * *

  E-Mail From: Dr Pete

  To: Angel

  Subject: How about a Rematch?

  * *

  We’ve made a breakthrough, discovered a new genetic treatment for your condition! We’ve had remarkable results in younger patients, improving their vision enormously. Get in contact. I know people who can fast track you through the waiting lists. Imagine being able to see again! Call me.

  Peter

  PS. Fantastic evening, I didn’t think you’d be up for it. When you’re done with the analyst chap (who doesn’t look much fun) maybe we can hook up from time to time?