by Jude Sierra
“Just good?” Joaquim teases, hoping for another smile.
“This is nice,” Reid says after a bit. His hair ruffles in the breeze. Joaquim guesses he doesn’t bother with product when they’re about to go in the water; without it, his hair is still messy and obviously thick, but flatter. The effect is sweeter, and blonder, without his dark roots showing. “I like being on the water like this.”
“Yeah, me too.” Joaquim’s gaze takes in the rest of their group; he needs to help Keith out, because he’s a little less steady. Joaquim pats Reid on the shoulder, crosses the boat, and steadies himself with one hand on the roof when they hit a wave.
The pre-dive safety check goes about as well as usual for Joaquim. First open water dives are anxiety-producing for divers, especially if they’re the sort to second guess themselves and worry. Being in charge of setting up and donning gear strikes them as more daunting with the wide expanse of ocean rocking steadily and unceasingly under the deck of the boat. His class handles the prep and entrance well enough, but when it’s Erin’s turn to enter the water, she balks.
“You’ve got this,” Joaquim says to her from the water. Claude, the boat driver, is at her back with his hand on her tank, murmuring encouragement. The boat pitches up and down with a wave. Erin is so short. Joaquim can imagine how daunting it must feel, taking a step from a boat into open water, weighed down by unfamiliar gear. She’s shaking.
But then Erin squares her shoulders. When she steps off, Joaquim exhales hard around the sharp edge of pride he often feels when he watches others tackle moments of fear. Although she continues to shake all the way down, she takes Joaquim’s hand and meets his eyes like a champ. Ten minutes later she’s comfortable enough to let go of his hand to point at a barracuda hovering yards away in their periphery.
The actual in-the-water dive runs about thirty minutes. The hours sandwiching those thirty minutes, though, with the details to attend to, the nerves from buoyance checks, the waits for ascent and descent, all slip from his students’ minds in their first moments back on the boat. They’ve taken his group to Winch Hole, named for a large winch believed to be from a ship that ran aground in the 1800s, and it is a great spot for first-time dives.
Joaquim loves touring his divers. With each student, Joaquim has the privilege of sharing this thing he loves or watching others come to love it too. Post-dive, Joaquim’s muscles sink into a wrung-out, pleasant thrum. The debriefing is one of his favorite parts, especially after a first dive, when students can’t wait to tell each other what they saw and how it felt.
“Did you see that group of grunt fish?” Erin asks; her cheeks are pink, bearing marks from her mask. “They were under that overhang, you know?”
“I definitely spotted some Spanish grunts,” Keith says. He looks at Joaquim. “At least, I think we did. They had a yellow stripe at the top and some black stripes. Is that right?”
“Spot on,” Joaquim says. “That’s what they were.”
They saw a school of parrot fish, and once Reid gestured over Joaquim’s shoulder toward a nurse shark meandering amongst the coral. It was a great dive; the reef teemed with schools of fish, the sun was bright, and the water clear. After the dive, Reid doesn’t speak as the group catalogues what they’ve seen. Mostly they talk about the fish, although Keith and Roger have many questions about the coral and sponges; Joaquim and Claude are drawn into a conversation with them about the delicacy of the reef. Although they’ve learned about it in class, it’s another thing for divers to see the reef and understand how careful they must be to preserve it. Joaquim’s not always so lucky. He has been with divers who have no respect for nature. This group, however: This group is fantastic.
Past Claude’s shoulder, he sees Reid settle next to Erin. He offers his hand and they execute a complex high-five and handshake Joaquim’s seen them working on in class. Unlike the other divers, Reid never treats Erin like a little kid, never condescends to her. Reid isn’t working to include her because she stands apart; left to his own devices, Reid has naturally, quietly connected with her. Their laughter catches on the wind.
Seven
Reid’s entrance into the water is less than graceful but, all in all, better than he anticipated.
The minutes leading up to the dive were slightly stressful. All of the things they learned in the pool and all of the equipment to check and wear seemed more overwhelming on the ocean. By the time they finish descent, though, all of that stress is forgotten. All he hears is the sound of his own breathing through the respirator and the constant crackling and popping along the reef. His world narrows to blues and grays, to the work of his body as he learns to keep himself horizontal in the push-pull of currents. Once adjusted, Reid needs a moment to take in the tableau before him, the blue-gray giving way to stunning color. Pictures pale in comparison to the actual vibrancy of the reef. His classmates move along the periphery of his vision; he spends long minutes watching the delicate lace of a sea fan, brown with startling purple veins, undulating in the same currents that envelop him. A brilliant angelfish darts in and out around the crimson and honey-colored coral and sponges. Gorgeous, inspiring reminders of a beautiful world he never thought he would see or experience are right at his hands. They’re necessary indicators of the life Reid can have, can work for: full of surprises, of beautiful things, of beautiful places.
After the dive, Reid drowses on a damp towel in the sun and listens to Keith chattering with his wife, Janet, about the fish they saw. The sky is a clear, rich blue, cloudless and open, the water is a constant slosh against the sides of the boat, and Reid can still remember the absolute peace underwater. He smiles. He was a little worried that Keith would puke on the way to the dive, but Keith held it together. He’s telling Janet it was nerves. With his eyes closed, it’s easier for Reid to eavesdrop. They’ve got a book, and they’re marking the fish and coral they’ve seen. It’s very sweet. Reid has his own notebook for this very purpose, but he’s not ready to let go of the wonderful lethargy of muscles well-used and the peace of the moment.
The boat hasn’t started yet. They’re all snacking and unwinding and writing in their dive logs. A small thump next to him startles Reid. The sunlight assaults his eyes, so he squints and turns to find Joaquim next to him. The can of pop in his hand drips cold condensation onto Reid’s arm, and Joaquim wiggles the can.
“Want?”
Reid is so much better than he was on the way out to the dive site, so much more present and alive. He sits up slowly and looks into Joaquim’s eyes.
“Yeah,” he says, making no move to take the can from Joaquim’s hand.
“Did—” Joaquim stops to clear his throat. “Did you enjoy today?”
“Oh my god.” Reid says. “That was fucking amazing.” He darts a glance at Erin and winces, but she doesn’t seem to have heard him. “I’ve… That was beautiful. And I’ve never felt like that.”
“Right?” Joaquim’s eyes brighten and the corners of his mouth lift. Reid likes that.
Without the wind off the water, it’s hot on the deck. Joaquim is shirtless, just wearing his trunks. His body is incredible; he’s taller than Reid and has somewhat thicker muscles. Either he’s naturally more built or he works out. Reid couldn’t say when he last exercised, unless walking until his shoes are worn through counts. He’s lost weight since coming to the Keys. It’s not apparent when wearing a swim shirt, which he is. He’s too warm, but there’s no way he’d take the shirt off in front of these people—or anyone, really.
Sweating now, he takes the can from Joaquim, making sure their fingers touch, and then drinks half of it in one go. Joaquim smiles. Claude calls for him from the front of the boat; Joaquim’s sigh seems annoyed.
“Hey,” Reid says, softly. “We’ll talk later, right?”
Joaquim lets his eyes linger on Reid’s lips and hair and run down his torso. “Definitely.”
Oh, man, he is so fucke
d.
After Reid is dressed and has taken care of his gear, he emerges from the locker room and onto the pool deck. On the boat ride home, he talked himself into taking this chance and, although his heart is beating a little fast, he’s interested in Joaquim, he’s attracted and intrigued. Joaquim isn’t on the pool deck yet. Reid gets drawn into a conversation with Nina, another instructor, and Mike. He’s more physically worn out than he anticipated and deliciously present in his own bones.
When Mike is called away by Erin’s father, Reid spots Joaquim carrying tanks. Nina watches him watching Joaquim and pats his arm.
“Go get him, tiger,” she says, and he blushes bright and hot under his already sun-touched skin. “You guys are killing me. Go get it over with.”
“Oh god, shush,” he says, ducking his head, but he decides to go with it. That is his purpose here, after all.
“Hey,” Reid says as he catches up with Joaquim. He pitches his voice a little lower, even though they’re around the corner, at the side of the shop. He doubts anyone can hear them, but they saw him come this way. He isn’t sure how out Joaquim is, and Reid doesn’t intend to make trouble for him.
“Hey, yourself,” Joaquim says. He stands slowly; Reid leans against the green stucco wall and crosses his arms.
“So, I was wondering, I mean, um, do you wanna—”
“Want to?” Joaquim prompts. “Now?” His voice rises, and Reid shakes his head and waves a hand.
“No! No, I didn’t mean that. I meant, do you want to go out? Not to hook up, but like, a date. Ish?”
“Yeah,” Joaquim says. A sweet smile creases his face. “That would be nice.”
He never used to be shy about this kind of thing. Fucking Felix. Reid concentrates and expels the thought. He starts to speak and then stops. He bites his lip. He’s so dumb. “Oh, god,” he says, and runs his hand through his messy hair. “So now, I have to admit I didn’t think this through and I don’t know this town well enough to know where to take you.”
“That is adorable,” Joaquim says. Reid scrunches his eyes.
“I’m not so much going for that,” he admits.
“What are you going for, then?” Joaquim asks, almost whispering. The conversation is intimate, despite the group a few feet away around the corner. Reid shifts his feet. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to answer that.” Joaquim’s smile is a little naughty, which is surprising. It doesn’t quite match the picture of Joaquim Reid’s constructed in his mind.
“Have you been to Anne’s Beach?”
“No, I’ve mostly stuck around bayside where I’m staying.”
“We can go there if you want.”
“Yes,” Reid says, grateful that Joaquim knows what he’s doing. “When works for you? My work schedule is probably easier to manage than yours.” The dive shop keeps the interns busy. From what Joaquim and Nina have said, Reid can tell that they put a lot of hours into teaching and learning.
“Um, yeah. This week is crazy busy. But I’m free at five-thirty tomorrow. Can you swing that?”
“Definitely!” Reid almost rolls his eyes at himself. That was way too much enthusiasm; he doesn’t want to scare Joaquim by coming on too strong.
“Let me text you my number when I have my phone back, and then we’ll set things up.”
“Don’t you need my number?”
Joaquim gives him a look and then Reid does laugh at himself. Duh. “You have my number in the shop, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Joaquim seems as if he wants to say something else, but then Nina calls for him. “I’ll text you,” he says again, and they share a look.
* * *
Reid pulls into the tiny, public parking lot for the beach that Joaquim gave him directions to. Joaquim didn’t say much about where they were going, just that Reid should wear swim stuff. He’s brought a towel, too, just in case.
Joaquim is standing at the edge of the lot near the entrance to a boardwalk. He’s got a small cooler at his feet and is wearing yellow Bermuda shorts. He doesn’t see Reid come up to him, as he’s fiddling on his phone. His red and white-striped tank top shows off his muscled shoulders and rounded biceps Reid wants to touch.
“I thought you said to wear a suit,” Reid says when he approaches.
Joaquim smiles at Reid. “I have it on under my shorts.”
Reid wants to make a joke about stripping them off, but, again, doesn’t want to come on too strong too soon. This is their first interaction without others around them and in a non-lesson context.
“C’mon,” Joaquim says. He picks up the cooler, and Reid is grateful to see that he also has a towel. Joaquim leads him onto a boardwalk that goes through the mangroves.
“Did you put on bug spray?” Joaquim texted about that too.
“Definitely.” Slapping at mosquitos isn’t Reid’s idea of a romantic date. “It’s pretty here,” he says. Picnic tables and shaded areas on the boardwalk face little sections of beach. Other than the barking of a dog, it’s very quiet. The mangroves are verdant; they create the sense of a solitary world. Reid is surprised to discover that mangrove swamps smell, well, like swamps. Despite the smell, Reid could see himself lingering here when he needs quiet time.
“It’s very peaceful here during the week. I should warn you, though, sometimes there are nudists. And dogs.” Reid catches and reciprocates Joaquim’s sidelong smirk. “Hopefully they don’t scare you.”
“No, I’m not afraid of dogs,” Reid says.
“Just nudists?” Joaquim bumps into him. Reid can’t tell if it’s by design or an accident. Reid bumps him back rather than answer.
“So,” Joaquim says after a comfortable silence. “Reid from Wisconsin. Tell me about yourself.”
Caught up in taking in the scenery, Reid is a few steps behind him and has to take longer strides to catch up. His own curiosity wins out over manners and, rather than answer, he asks, “Where are you from?”
“Brazil,” Joaquim says, eyes meeting his. “São Paulo.”
“Where’s that?”
“South of Rio,” Joaquim says. “Is here okay? The beach isn’t as great, but it’s more private.” It’s a sheltered stretch of sand flanked by trees. The sun is low but it’s still early enough to be hot and bright.
“This is great,” Reid says. He follows Joaquim.
“Tide is low, so there’s more beach,” Joaquim says. “When it’s high there’s almost no beach. And there’s the seaweed. But it’s one of my favorite spots in the Keys.”
There is more beach debris here than Reid is used to, but Reid loves that Joaquim wants them to have privacy. The water is shallow quite far out and, past slightly dark patches close to the shoreline, clear and lovely.
“It’s beautiful here.”
They settle their towels and the cooler in the sand and sit together. Joaquim put his towel right against Reid’s, so they are shoulder to shoulder.
“So, São Paulo?” Reid tries for the same pronunciation Joaquim used.
Joaquim squints at him and smiles widely. “São,” he says slowly, and Reid tries again. He has to shake off embarrassment at his own attempts.
“I promise, eventually I’ll get this.”
“It’s really sweet that you’re trying,” Joaquim says, and Reid stills. “Most people don’t.”
“Yeah?” Testing the waters, Reid puts his shoulder against Joaquim’s. He’s freaking giggling, and this guy is telling him he’s sweet. Reid doesn’t know boys like this. He doesn’t usually let himself be a boy like this. Joaquim leans back and pulls his knees up, crossing his arms when he does. His finger grazes Reid’s bicep, then draws a short, teasing line up. Reid bites his lip; the touch sends shivers through his body.
“Tell me about it,” Reid says, his voice husky.
“Well, it’s a city. The state is called São Paulo too, but I’m from the city. It�
��s a huge city, one of the biggest in the world. Miles of buildings. Very, very different.” Joaquim sounds wistful.
“You miss it?”
“Yeah, sometimes.” Joaquim doesn’t look at him. “If you drive up to the coast, you get to the beaches, gorgeous ones. Huge waves and beautiful sand and every cliché people think about. The highlands, parks, and rainforests are like nothing else. Even the air feels green and living. I went spelunking a few years ago in Jacupiranga with friends in this place called the Devil’s Cave, and it was, I don’t know. I don’t have words for it. Have you been spelunking?”
Reid and shakes his head. “Is the sand softer?” He keeps his tone light, because Joaquim seems to be drawing into himself. Joaquim chuckles.
“Yeah. It’s not manmade, so yeah.” The breeze ruffles Reid’s hair. “Did you know that?”
“Yeah, I researched it. I could not figure it out at first. I spend a lot of time on the small beach-ish thing by my grandma’s condo.”
“That’s one of the things I like about this beach. It’s one of the only natural ones in the Keys. It’s maybe not what people imagine beaches here will be like.”
“I think it’s perfect.”
“I suppose you’d want to be near the beach, if you’re coming from Wisconsin.”
Reid thinks through what he wants to say. It’s not that he can’t filter the information he chooses to give. He doesn’t like to think about home and everything tied to it.
“Yeah. We’re not close to any beaches. I mean, there are beaches. Just nowhere nearby.” Reid says. “It’s also nice and warm here. I mean, sometimes too warm—”
“Sometimes?”
“Yeah.” Reid leans on Joaquim harder, hoping for another touch. Joaquim seems approachable but tentative. Reid’s felt off for a long time, but he remembers the shadow of confidence he once possessed. Joaquim makes him want to slip back into that skin, or maybe it’s just his skin that wants touch, Joaquim’s touch. “I need to get new clothes, I think. But shorts are just not—”
