Rest, Relax, Run for Your Life

by Katherine H Brown

  “Ah yes,” Jan smiled. “While in the sauna it can get quite hot, of course, and we do not need any of you dehydrating. Rose will make a mixture of juice and seaweed extract for you to drink, thus preventing dehydration and promoting detoxification from the inside out as well.”

  Giving an involuntary shudder, I glanced at Gladys.

  “Are you happy?” I asked her. “We have to drink seaweed.”

  She mumbled something under her breath. Sam grinned at us both. I was starting to rethink my plans to visit this place with her in the future; I was right, pampering was overrated.

  “I take it back,” I said out loud half an hour later, covered in sludge. We were lying on bunk-bed type racks but with only wooden slats only, no cushion. The dry sauna was a dark room, the only illumination was the glow of the coals in the metal box heating the entire area and a few wispy beams of light sneaking through slats in the door.

  “You take what back?” Sam asked from below me, in the middle bunk, over the sound of Gladys snoring on the bottom bunk.

  “I take back all of the bad thoughts I was having about this place. This is my favorite room. So warm and toasty, do you think the landlord would let me put one of those coal boxes in my apartment?”

  Gladys woke with a start, banging her head on the bunk in the process.

  “Woo-wee,” she exclaimed. “I think I’m going to have to get out of this inferno, it is just too hot in here for me.”

  I leaned over the wooden sides of my bunk to check on her.

  “Did you hit your head? Will you be okay? Can you find your way back to Jan in the seaweed room?”

  “Yes, yes,” Gladys nodded, rubbing the back of one hand to her forehead while hitching up her towel with the other. “Stop fussing over me, I’m just a bit overheated is all. And no offense to the lovely spa, but I certainly don’t think that nasty seaweed juice is going to be on the menu in heaven.”

  Laughing, I get comfortable on my bunk and silently agree with her; I had barely been able to drink my whole glass, and only because I didn’t relish the idea of dehydration.

  “Sam,” I spoke quietly into the silence a few minutes later. “Do you think we will stay busy at the bakery, or do you think traffic will die back down now that we’ve been closed this whole weekend? What if people forget about Ooey-Gooey-Goodness?”

  “I think it will be fine, Piper,” she told me confidently.

  “Well, how do you…” I started but stopped when Sam tapped my bunk and shushed me.

  “Shh,” Sam said, “do you hear that?”

  An odd rustling noise made me turn my head and scan the room, but it was too dark to see anything.

  The noise sounded again, like a small scratching, from much lower than my bunk. I rolled to the side, struggling to keep my towel secure. I really don’t think we were supposed to be moving around this much in here, the wood was very unforgiving to hips and elbows.

  “You don’t think there are mice, do you?” Sam’s voice quivered slightly.

  I hoped not, or more snakes either, but I kept the thoughts to myself.

  “No. Do you see anything?”

  Just then, I saw a piece of paper slide out of one of the slats in the door. Right into the coal box. Whoosh! Flames munched at the corner of the paper. I jumped off my bunk, wincing as pain from the tile floor slammed into my bare feet, and swatted the paper out of the box. Sam scrambled out of her bunk and stomped the last embers out.

  She looked at me and we both breathed a shaky smile of relief.

  “Well, that was close,” she said.

  “Too close. The last thing we need in this room full of wood is a live fire.”

  “Do you think someone was trying to catch it on fire? Or that it just accidentally landed in the box of coals?”

  “Only one way to find out,” I nodded toward the paper, wisps of smoke rising from its corners, as I sank down onto the bottom bunk.

  Sam grabbed the paper and sat beside me, unfolding it slowly.

  YOU DON’T BELONG HERE

  TEN

  “We really have to sort out who is behind these notes,” Sam sighed.

  “I agree, plus I’m starting to think that the snakes and steam room incident might be related after all.”

  A quick rap at the door made us jump. I grabbed the note from Sam and stuffed it in the top of my towel.

  “Miss Lowe, Miss Rivers,” a voice came from the hall before the door swung open. Cynthia stood erect, hands clasped in front of her, while Jill hovered behind. “We are here to escort you to the showers and changing room if you please,” Cynthia said as she narrowed her eyes. Obviously, we were supposed to be lying sedately in our bunks while we roasted, not engaging in friendly chit-chat.

  “Of course,” Sam smiled broadly, rising to her feet. “A shower would be lovely.”

  ~

  By the time we had showered, more people were in the changing rooms, so Sam and I postponed our discussion of the mysterious notes. Gladys was there as well, sitting on a bench and rubbing lotion into her hands and arms.

  “Well, did you girls enjoy the rest of your time in the sauna?” she asked cheerfully.

  She either had no idea about the near fire, which made sense because we hadn’t told anyone, or she was pretending she didn’t know about the note but was really behind them all. I hated that this new suspicion of everyone was beginning to creep into my thoughts.

  “Yes, it was very enlightening, wouldn’t you say, Piper?” Sam responded.

  “Hmm, yes,” I murmured agreement.

  Jill came into the changing rooms and passed out what she called “yoga socks” to each of us. “Since you are going to group yoga next, I thought you might like to have some of these.”

  With non-slip grips on the bottom and separate places for all of your toes to go, it was like being barefoot except your feet didn’t have to touch the yoga mats that tons of other people stood on barefoot.

  “Thanks, Jill!” I told her. I hated going barefoot. My feet got cold quickly, so I was very happy about the socks.

  “Look, Piper,” Sam laughed, “I think everyone here is bound and determined to make sure nobody can tell my mother I walked around the spa barefoot.” She wiggled her toes in the soft pink toe-socks.

  Gladys, on the other hand, was struggling; it appeared she had at least three toes where the big toe should go. Shaking my head, I donned my own socks and let Jill lead me to the yoga and meditation studio. It was a large open space, sleek laminate wood flooring stretched from wall to wall making it look larger, and one wall housed a huge, probably ten feet by ten feet if I were to guess, picture window with a gorgeous view of the manicured lawn. The wall opposite of the door was a full, floor-to-ceiling mirror.

  A few ceiling fans hummed slowly, and four other people milled about the room when Jill gestured me inside. I recognized one of them from our morning crowd at the bakery.

  “Hi!” I greeted when she finished stretching.

  “Oh, hi,” she said as she tightened the elastic ponytail holder in her hair. “You’re from the bakery, right? Piper?”

  “That’s me. And you are…” I thought a moment, “Barb? Barbara?”

  “That’s right, call me Barb,” her smile brightened at being remembered. Points to me for customer service and name retention; Sam would be truly impressed because I’m terrible with names.

  “Are you staying at the spa, too?” I asked. Barb appeared to be in her late twenties, early thirties maybe. I knew she had a job that required business casual dress most days but didn’t really know anything else about her, other than obviously the apple fritters weren’t doing her any harm; she was in great shape.

  “No, I just come for the yoga class.”

  “I’ve never done yoga before,” I admitted.

  “You’ll love it! And this instructor is great at helping beginners, so don’t worry about it.”

  Sam and Gladys walked in, followed by an attractive woman dressed in black and lime green workou
t pants and a lime green tank that said “Forget diamonds, give me yoga pants” on the front. She shut the door behind her and clapped her hands.

  “Okay ladies, I see some new faces today which is exciting. I’m Felicity and I’ll be your instructor.” She made her way to the back wall of the room, in front of the mirror.

  The other women in the class took a yoga mat from the rack in the corner and begin spreading them out on the floor so we followed suit. I spread out my neon blue yoga mat between Gladys and Sam. We ended up near the front of the class, nearest to Felicity, much to my chagrin. I darted my eyes around like a cornered animal, but there were no other open spaces.

  Felicity must have noticed.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen you three here before. Do you have a regular yoga practice?”

  I snorted. Sam elbowed me. “We have always wanted to try it out,” she told Felicity.

  “Alright! You’ve picked a perfect day. Today our session is all about flexibility and stretching. You only take the poses as far as you are comfortable; everyone will be at different levels which is fine.”

  Felicity picked up her own yoga mat and rolled it out parallel to the mirror so that we could see exactly what she was doing and follow her positions.

  “First, mountain pose,” said Felicity, as she placed her feet together and extended her arms and fingertips down her side. “Look forward, straight in front of you; spread your toes; feel your feet grounding into the mat,” she called out.

  “Well, this isn’t so bad,” Gladys cupped her hand around her mouth and attempted to whisper. I groaned inwardly. You never, ever tell a teacher something isn’t hard; it’s like then it’s their mission to make it hell for you. I was afraid yoga class would be no different.

  “Now,” Felicity continued, “elongate your arms over your head, stretch as high as you can go, and then sweep down and come into standing forward bend.” I watched her move with ease and grace, coming to a stop when her forehead touched her knees and both palms were flat on the floor. And then I tried. Ha! I took comfort that I could at least see my knees when I bent forward, but my fingers barely grazed the floor and I definitely couldn’t fold completely in half. A twinge in my back was already asking me if this was really necessary. From the corner of my eye, I could see that Sam wasn’t much closer than I was to the goal.

  “Wonderful, just perfect,” chirped Felicity as she began moving around the room to check progress. She slipped a few foam blocks under my hands so that my palms rested flat on them instead of the floor. “Don’t be afraid to use the yoga blocks, ladies,” she told the class, passing out several more. “Back to mountain pose.”

  Stepping back onto her mat, Felicity joined us in mountain pose. “Watch me now. We are going to sweep down to standing forward bend, take two breaths there, and then step your feet back into a push-up position.”

  We all swooped and stepped after she had demonstrated. Thanks to lifting heavy bowls of batter and trays of goodies daily, my arm muscles were able to support a push-up position without much trouble. Gladys, on the other hand, was shaking like a mini-earthquake was happening under her mat.

  “For those of you having trouble in this area, rest your knees on your mat as you continue to lengthen through your arms. Good. Two breaths here.”

  And in this way, yoga continued; we inclined to upward-facing dog, pushed ourselves in downward-facing dog, stretched into several more head-to-knee, or in many of our cases, head-to-block positions until every muscle in my body ached.

  At least I wasn’t the only one drenched in sweat.

  “Wow, what a workout!” Sam passed me a hand-towel from a stack, using one to wipe her own forehead and neck.

  “Yeah, I had no idea being flexible was such hard work.”

  Gladys joined us, shuffling slowly over and leaning against the wall.

  “I’m worn out. I think next time, I’m leaving all this exercise stuff to you girls. I was really just hoping for one of those spicy male teachers like you see on tv, the ones with the tight pants…”

  Thankfully, Felicity started speaking and we didn’t get to hear the rest of Gladys’s yoga fantasy.

  “Remember ladies, no food or drinks other than water for thirty minutes. Your body is still in detox thanks to all the deep asanas you reached today.”

  I don’t know what an asana is, but I was bummed about the no food part. I had just been thinking how many cookies must have been burned off during our session, and looking forward to replacing them.

  Our assistants soon came to collect us. We elected to shower in our suites. I swear I’ve had more showers a day here than some people take in a week. As soon as I finished, I slipped into my fluffy robe and tiptoed over to Sam’s room.

  “We have to figure out these notes,” I said, dropping to her bed with a flourish once she opened the door for me to come inside.

  “Definitely,” she nodded in agreement. “Here let’s make a list.” Sam thrust a small notebook and purple pen at me.

  I was a compulsive list maker, which she knew, so I flipped to an empty page with a smile; perfect, a list would make it all clear I decided. At least I felt like I was doing something besides sitting around, waiting around for the crazy person to appear.

  “The first list,” I said, “places the notes have appeared.” Did I mention I like lists? So, yes, there would be multiple.

  “Bakery, foot massage chair, dry sauna.”

  “Okay,” I scribbled as I talked, “second list: people who don’t think I should be here. Broussard.”

  “Broussard’s sister, my mother,” Sam shrugged, “we may as well include her. You know she doesn’t like anyone ‘below a certain caliber’ to be at the same spa she frequents.”

  “True,” I agreed. “Oh, and Margarite – she subscribes to the same school of thought as Broussard.”

  “Fine. Is there a third list?”

  “There is always a third list!” I beamed a wide smile at my friend as she gave me a long-suffering stare. “List number three is people with opportunity.”

  “Gladys.”

  “I don’t remember Broussard, your mom, or other staff being at the bakery. Then again, we were busy and they could have sent the note to be dropped off by someone else. We were extremely busy that day.”

  “So, everyone goes on the list? That isn’t exactly helpful, is it?”

  “No,” I sighed, closing my eyes in defeat.

  Before we could brainstorm any further, a knock came on Sam’s suite door. Gladys was standing on the other side, fully dressed and evidently ready for lunch.

  “Are you two not ready yet? I thought surely I would be the old lady holding things up,” she grinned.

  “I guess it has been more than the required thirty minutes since we finished yoga,” remarked Sam.

  “Time flies,” I stood up and tightened my robe. “I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

  “Me too.”

  I decided on the blue sundress to wear to lunch, tossed on a pair of flat sandals, and pulled my hair into a high ponytail on top of my head. Deodorant, a spritz of perfume, and I was ready to go. I thought to check my messages but couldn’t find my phone so I decided to look at them later.

  Lunch today was set up in a similar manner to yesterday. Long tables lined the garden, but today most of the foods were cold cuts and raw fruits and veggies. Obviously, they were going for lighter fare and, sadly, the decision had impacted the dessert table as well. Watermelon, berries, parfaits, and angel food cake were the healthy options today. Thank goodness there is an emergency bowl of truffles in my purse.

  We passed by Belle and her mother Eloise, but their table was full today so we didn’t stop. Belle smiled before continuing to move around the spinach on her plate with her fork. Note to self, maybe I should find Belle when I dip into the emergency truffle stash. The poor girl probably needed some chocolate.

  Making quick work of lunch, Gladys told us she wanted to go back to the room and do her Bible study befo
re our deep tissue massage appointment later this afternoon.

  I looked wistfully at the beach which was just a short hike from the garden, down a hill and over dunes.

  Jutting out my lower lip in a pout, I turned to Sam, “Want to go walk on the beach?”

  “Sure, let me throw these away and I’ll meet you down there.”

  “Okay, thanks!” I pushed in my chair as Sam cleaned up the table. It took me a moment to find the small, dirt path. I assumed jumping through the manicured hedge bordering the garden would be frowned upon, but eventually, the opening appeared and I began the climb down the gravel path, toward the rolling dunes.

  It was a beautiful afternoon with temperatures in the mid-seventies, not very much of a breeze but still, it wasn’t hot out. I stopped at the edge of the dunes and glanced back over my shoulder. I could see that Sam had been caught by two ladies chatting. Since it didn’t look like she would be joining me anytime soon, I continued on my way to the ocean’s edge. Few other people were out on this portion of the beach, though I could see small dots of people and umbrellas in the distance. I resisted the urge to wade in the gently lapping tide as it caressed the sandy shore; I wasn’t aiming for another shower just yet.

  I found myself lost in thought. The ocean always did that to me; its magnificence, its grandeur they both humbled and inspired me. The ocean is so much more than we can control or understand, just like life. It has dangers lurking as well, but its majestic beauty couldn’t be denied.

  My past held some rough patches, it would be easy to get upset about the bad in the world; there are ugly and dangerous creatures that walk on two legs as much as there are dangerous creatures that swim in the sea. Thankfully, there is also beauty in humankind – my best friend jumping in with me on a business idea, this church with members who gave up their time to serve others, all of the money raised to help and prevent future victims, the enthusiasm with which the whole community supported that cause, the beauty showed itself if you took the time to look.

  I stretched my arms high above my head and closed my eyes, inhaling the salty air and the peace I found in the rhythm of the waves.