Her thoughts inevitably drifted to Gio. Damn it, he had so many chances to stop her from going to Martinique, and he had squandered all of them. He had willingly set her free like a butterfly in the wind, as though she had never been his to keep in the first place. And Sabrina had fiercely wanted to be his. But her destiny awaited somewhere in the indigo haze of Martinique.
“I think we’re going to make it.” Cara reassured Sabrina, as she breezed through the terminal for international departures. “You’ll really have to hustle over to the check-in counter, but I know you can do it, sweetie.” Her voice now carried with it a note of suppressed emotion that did not escape Sabrina.
“Cara, you sound as though you’re about to cry!” Sabrina exclaimed.
“I know. I can’t help it.”
“Don’t get upset now, right before I have to go. It’s not like I’m going away forever. You’ll be battling miserable traffic to come get me at this airport before you can blink!” Sabrina turned to her younger sister and gave her a tight hug.
“I love you, Sabrina.” Cara whispered through tears.
“I love you too, Cara. Now dry your eyes because you have to get back on the road.” Sabrina instructed.
Cara wiped her face with a tissue and said cheerfully, “Bon voyage!” then added with a wink, “Don’t forget to take pictures!” The two women laughed jovially, embraced one more time, and parted ways. Cara watched as Sabrina rolled her suitcase through the revolving doors until she disappeared in the crowd of travelers.
Sabrina sat in her airplane seat listening to the flight staff review safety instructions in the event of an emergency. She had boarded the plane with mere minutes to spare, having dashed over to the check-in counter to get her passport verified. Then, she had run with her boarding pass all the way to the gate. Now on the airplane, she tried to relax, but found that Cara’s emotional good-bye had affected her more than she would have liked.
The plane wasn’t even off the ground yet, and Sabrina was also thinking about Gio at home in Vermont. What was he doing at that very moment? A secret part of her had held onto foolish hope that he would come to the airport to stop her from leaving. Fighting back what threatened to be a fresh onslaught of tears, Sabrina unfolded her tray in expectation of a refreshing drink and in-flight meal.
The flight was mainly uneventful with Sabrina alternately flipping through magazines and marveling at the plush clouds in the clear sky. When she heard the pilot’s voice suddenly come over the loud speaker, she and the other passengers were unnerved.
“Attention passengers, please fasten your seatbelts and remain seated. We are encountering higher than normal levels of turbulence. Once again, please fasten your seatbelts and do not get out of your seats for any reason. Thank you for your cooperation.”
All around her, people’s voices rose from an apprehensive hush to a panicked crescendo as the plane floundered in the air. Sabrina felt as though she were in a movie as drinks spilled, babies wailed, and people recited prayers out loud.
White-knuckled, she gripped the armrest, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to ward off the nausea that surged through her. Wishing she had skipped the cardboard-tasting meal, Sabrina groaned, hoping that she could maintain her composure and not become ill. The plane continued to bounce precariously up and down as the seatbelt sign flashed, reminding the frightened passengers to stay put. Sabrina wondered if they were going to have to make an emergency landing, although the pilot had not mentioned such a drastic measure, probably not wanting to cause more chaos than necessary.
As the aircraft wobbled unsteadily in the air, Sabrina kept her eyes closed, envisioning Gio by her side and all the things she would say to him. If these were her last moments on earth, she would want him to know how much she loved him. Whether he was able to commit to her or not, those were her feelings, and with each dip and sway that the plane made, Sabrina felt her heart breaking. She thought in a flash of her parents and of Cara, who had made a scene on the ride to the airport. Could that have been a premonition that something was going to go wrong? Stop it! Sabrina screamed in her head. Don’t be a superstitious imbecile!
At that moment, the pilot’s considerably calmer voice echoed over the loud speaker again: “Attention, passengers. We seem to be exiting the turbulent area. Please remain seated with your belts fastened for the next few minutes, after which we anticipate you will be able to move freely about the aircraft. Thank you for your patience.”
A universal sigh of relief derived from the airplane, as people slowly began to resume their activities, chatting and readjusting their headphones. Sabrina felt tears burn her eyes, and she did not try to prevent them from flowing. That brief but terrifying experience had solidified her feelings for Gio, made her realize how important he had become to her. Now she was faced with the disheartening knowledge that she was really going to be away from Vermont for two whole months. Suddenly, the length of time seemed interminable, and she concocted scenarios in her head where Gio would meet a new woman and write off Sabrina as a meaningless fling.
The remainder of the flight was tedious for Sabrina, and when the plane finally touched ground in Martinique, she was wildly eager to stretch her legs and flee her claustrophobia-inducing surroundings.
Sabrina filed out of the plane as quickly as possible among the masses of equally restless and travel-weary passengers. In a daze, she went through the various checkpoints in the airport, still reeling from the tremendous turbulence. Outside the airport, the weather was hot and humid as Sabrina stood on the curb waiting in queue for a taxi.
The taxi driver was amiable, markedly different from the drivers she was accustomed to in the States. Sabrina employed her French to instruct the driver to take the shortest route to her waterside hotel and was surprised when he answered her in heavily accented English.
“Mademoiselle, I am happy to take you there. À votre service. Welcome to Martinique. You are very beautiful to travel alone.” The mustached driver had a pleasant, melodious voice that set Sabrina at ease after the harrowing experience onboard.
“Thank you. But it’s your country that is very beautiful.”
“You have not seen much yet, Mademoiselle. Martinique is a land not only of beaches but of wonderful music, food, and people.” He spoke with a mixture of enthusiasm and national pride.
“Yes, Monsieur, I can already see that Martinique is a fascinating place.”
“How long will you be visiting us?”
Sabrina sighed on this question and tried to bury memories of Gio as she answered. “Two months.” The words sounded foreign to her ears.
“Two months! What will a beautiful young lady do on our island for two months?”
“This is a business trip for me. I’m a photographer for an American magazine, and my boss sent me to Martinique for a special issue about undiscovered gems of the Caribbean.”
“This is excellent. I am happy because the land of Martinique, she thrives on tourism! Seem like Americans always choose Jamaica instead.”
Sabrina nodded, grateful for the conversational exchange with the hospitable driver. She hoped that his welcoming demeanor would be shared by everyone she came into contact with. A short drive later, they arrived at Sabrina’s hotel, a palatial resort in the island’s capital city, Fort-de-France. The resort sat directly on the turquoise shores of the Caribbean.
Sabrina admired the French-inspired architecture along with endless rows of palm trees. Inhaling deeply of the salty sea air, she shook the driver’s hand and gave him an extra generous tip. Then, she strolled over to the front desk, getting the impression that this might turn out to be a more enjoyable sojourn than she had believed. If there were any place in the world more conducive to getting over Gio than the sun-kissed, sparkling blue island of Martinique, she did not know where to find it.
The hotel lobby featured a solarium and dozens of open windows through which a revitalizing sea breeze blew. Already Sabrina could hear the strength of the trade winds that M
artinique and all the other Windward Islands were noted for. The front desk clerk was an attractive woman of no more than twenty-five with a flawless mahogany complexion and warm smile. “Welcome to the Lush Blue Resort. May I please have your name?” The clerk spoke in French.
“Bonjour. Je m’appelle Sabrina Montrouge.” She replied in the native tongue, earning an even broader smile from the young employee.
“Très bien, Mademoiselle Montrouge. Your magazine has reserved one of the private bungalows for you overlooking the sea.”
Sabrina tried to contain her excitement at the news that she would be spending her summer in a private bungalow overlooking the Caribbean Sea. With a wry smile, she wondered to herself if this was Darlene’s way of atoning for the ghastly blind date with Donald.
“That sounds wonderful…” Sabrina paused to read the woman’s name badge, “Mariette. Merci beaucoup.”
“Je vous en prie.” Mariette rang a bell and moments later, a tall, dapper looking porter was at the desk, graciously taking Sabrina’s luggage from her hands. They traversed the hotel over marble floors and around business offices decorated with vivid tropical flowers.
The bungalow was on a steep incline, located far enough from the water that it would not likely get flooded except in the case of a severe hurricane, and close enough to the sea for Sabrina to hear the waves crashing against the shore. The porter exited discreetly, leaving Sabrina to study her surroundings. The bungalow’s interior was spacious and could easily fit another guest…perfect for a honeymoon, Sabrina thought, then mentally slapped herself for letting her undisciplined heart tread in that direction.
French paintings adorned the walls, and the European flavor was offset by giant bamboo shoots and wild orchids dispersed throughout. The bed was enormous and shaped in a perfect circle, covered with sage-toned bedding that complemented the rich oak headboard. Upon further inspection, Sabrina was delighted to find a single chocolate, wrapped in silver foil, awaiting her on the freshly fluffed pillow. She popped it into her mouth, savoring the peach liqueur center as she looked out the window at the enchanting Caribbean Sea.
The taste of chocolate had effectively whetted her appetite, and Sabrina wrinkled her nose remembering the cardboard cuisine she had eaten on the plane. She picked up a room service menu from her nightstand and flipped through, torn between two succulent sounding dishes: poulet de coco, which was coconut chicken and a specialty of Martinique, and red snapper with white wine, garlic and lime, a dish that was noted all over the Caribbean. Sabrina opted for the local treat, coconut chicken, and picked up the phone to order. She was startled to find that there was no dial tone at the other end, so she set down the receiver and lifted it up again. To her dismay, there was still no dial tone. After fiddling with the cord and receiver for a few minutes, Sabrina decided that she should notify the front desk and request a repair before night fell. She would not want to be alone in a seaside bungalow with no method of communication.
Sabrina arrived at the front desk as Mariette was checking in a group of guests. After she was done, Mariette asked promptly, “Is the bungalow to your liking, Mademoiselle Montrouge?”
“The bungalow is absolutely beautiful, thank you. The only problem is that the telephone doesn’t work. I tried several times, but the line was dead.”
Mariette nodded apologetically and said, “This has been a problem with the bungalows since early July when a big hurricane hit the islands. I am sorry, but for the time being, there is no phone service in the bungalows. If this is a problem, you may be transferred to a room inside the hotel.”
Sabrina ruminated on that for a moment, her heart sinking at the thought of switching from the organic splendor of the bungalow to the sterile atmosphere of the hotel. Never one to turn away from adventure, Sabrina said, “I’ll stay in the bungalow. But please let me know if there is anyone who can fix the phone.”
“Yes, Mademoiselle Montrouge, we will keep you apprised. Enjoy your stay and let me know if there is anything else you need.” Mariette smiled and turned away to welcome another herd of tourists that had just arrived.
Sabrina made her way over to the hotel’s restaurant, glad that she hadn’t been able to order room service once she sat down and began chatting with a friendly waitress.
By the time Sabrina left the restaurant, filled to bursting with the poulet au coco and a papaya sorbet she had ordered for dessert, she felt much more confident about exploring the island. The waitress had told her much about Martinique’s history and geography, leaving Sabrina fervent to get a good night’s rest and set out the next morning on a mission to take photographs of her breathtaking setting.
Chapter 18
The shore was eerily silent and black after hours. Beating drums in the distance lulled Sabrina asleep but disappeared after midnight, leaving her feeling terribly alone. All night she tossed in the plush round bed, trying not to let her imagination rule her, but nonetheless brewing up scary scenarios in her mind. What if an intruder came to her bungalow? The exterior was made of stacked hay and could easily be invaded. She did not know a soul in Martinique, save for Mariette at the desk who worked the dayshift and could not be contacted at night.
When the sun peeked through the windows at dawn, Sabrina was both relieved and impatient to survey the island. She had not unpacked upon arriving at the hotel and was irritated to find her clothes in disarray inside the suitcase. The most wearable item among the garments was a stretchy cotton sundress in an abstract gold and cream print. A pair of comfortable sandals and hoop earrings completed the outfit. Opting not to wear any make-up, Sabrina simply smeared her body with sunscreen and applied a touch of soothing lip balm. After a nourishing breakfast of eggs and locally grown fruits, Sabrina grabbed her camera equipment and boarded the ferry to explore Martinique.
Martinique was a tiny island, not more than fifty miles, and she was determined to photograph every scenic square inch of it before reporting back to Darlene in Vermont. Her first stop was the town of Balata, noted for its church modeled after the Sacré Coeur Basilica in Paris. Sabrina stood at a distance from the magnificent church, photographing it against the backdrop of the Caribbean skies that shone like sapphires in the morning sun.
Later, she took a taxi that wound past gardens dappled with hibiscus flowers, jade vines, and stone cottages. The driver let her off at La Savane Park in Fort-de-France, where she photographed fountains and benches, purposely including random tourists to give the pictures a realistic angle. The park was studded with palm trees that waved back and forth, making an arresting vista of greenery. Everywhere Sabrina roamed, she was greeted by the most brilliant forest greens and marine blues she had ever glimpsed. Through her exploration, she learned that Martinique had lagoons, cliffs, and even an active volcano called Montagne Pelée. Knowing that she could not do justice to Martinique in just one day, Sabrina vowed to patiently explore a different section of the island each week to take advantage of the season that she would spend there.
She decided that she would reserve one whole week just to photograph the indigenous animals of Martinique: finches, iguanas, and maybe even a monkey if she could spy one. Another week would be dedicated to exploring the many plantations where avocadoes, bananas, sugar cane, and mangoes grew in abundance. Still another week, Sabrina planned to take a cultural tour of Martinique, immersing herself in the marvelous landscape of inhabitants of French, African, Chinese, and Arab descent. Sabrina’s mind brimmed with creative ideas, and she realized that as much as she loved Gio, this was the opportunity of a lifetime that she would not let slip away.
By the end of the day, Sabrina had taken a bold cross-section of the island, from the plains and foothills of the south to the mountainous rain forests of the north. She felt like a happy nomad as she trekked across the island, pleasantly distracted from daydreams of Gio and capturing photographs unlike any she had ever taken. Having been so immersed in her island odyssey that she neglected to eat lunch, Sabrina resolved to indulge in the red s
napper when she got back to the hotel.
Sabrina left the restaurant that evening as sated as she had been the night before and decided to take a long walk along the beach. All around her, the night was closing in, and she zippered her jacket up to stave off the powerful trade winds. As she walked on the soft sands, leisurely strolling couples passed by, reminding her of the night she and Gio had walked through New York City. It amazed her how one moment she could be so determined to forget the man, and the next moment he was on her mind. It was as though he lived just beneath the rims of her eyes, and when she closed her eyes, even for a minute, he would instantly appear. Her heart seemed as fickle and untamed as the winds that blew over the Caribbean Sea.
Northern Moonlight Page 22
