Life in the Danger Zone

by Patricia B Tighe

  We continued on for a while, occasionally dodging people coming from the other direction. At one point, the promenade made a sharp turn to the left, bringing us face-to-face with two middle-aged men engaged in a loud discussion in Croatian. While smoking cigarettes. And only wearing gold chains and black Speedo-type briefs.

  Our passing didn’t bother them at all. They kept talking like we weren’t even there. But I held my breath because Alexis was about to give me crap. It was as predictable as saying the sun would set tonight. Because I used to love Speedo briefs for swimming; it always felt like the longer jammers slowed me down. Later I changed my mind. It happens. You need to get rid of all liabilities in a race. Even those that might be just in your head.

  Alexis started coughing, and I knew it wasn’t because of the smoke. Here it came. And three, two, one …

  “Those are just like the ones you used to wear, aren’t they, Sam?” Alexis asked, laughter in her voice.

  I looked behind me. She and Rose were both smiling. Although Rose’s smile looked like she’d had to plaster it on. “Kind of, yeah.”

  “You looked so adorable in them with your little stick legs,” she said.

  I stopped walking and turned around. Marie stopped too. “I have never had stick legs,” I said. Oh, no. Now all three girls stared at my legs—well, my calves were the only part showing. My skin got all prickly, and I shoved my hand in my pocket to keep from scratching my knee.

  Alexis’s smile grew broader. “You did when you were twelve.”

  I glared at her. “So did you.”

  She laughed. “But I wasn’t wearing Speedo briefs.”

  Rose covered her mouth. She had to be smiling under that hand. I wanted to grab it and pull it away from her face. Heck, I just wanted to grab her hand in general. I shook my head at her. “Not you too.”

  She raised one eyebrow, but before she could say anything, Marie spoke. “Not sticks,” she said, still examining my legs.

  “Not anymore,” Alexis said.

  “Nope,” Rose said, between her fingers, “definitely not sticks.”

  I was torn between running away and dropping trou so they could get the full effect. But just then, Nick appeared. “Why’d you guys stop?”

  “Don’t even,” I said to Alexis, causing her to bust out laughing.

  “What’s going on?” Sophie asked.

  Oh, perfect. Everybody had come to join us. Alexis wiped a tear from the outer edge of her eye, still chuckling. “We were just admiring—”

  “Ha! Look!” Nick called out. He’d moved to the railing, and was staring down at the water. He waved at us. “Come on. There’s a bunch of boobs over here.”

  “Nicky,” Clio said through her teeth.

  Against my better judgment—but how could I turn this down?—we clustered around Nick and looked over the rail. Sure enough, there were women down there sunbathing topless, but they were far enough away that it was pretty anticlimactic. Still, it felt weird to stare, so I looked across to the tree-covered hills on the other side of the bay.

  “Oh, lovely,” Sophie said, her voice as dry as dust.

  Jacques’s expression turned smug. “Ah, Americans are so prudish when it comes to nudity.”

  “We can’t help it,” Alexis said. “See all those little kids?” She pointed to the other end of the concrete beach where four- and five-year-olds were wearing only swimsuit bottoms. “They’re taught from the beginning that it’s no big deal. We’re taught to keep it all covered up.”

  “I suppose zhat is true,” Jacques said.

  “Do any of you girls want to go sunbathing?” Nick asked, breaking into laughter.

  Clio gasped. “That’s enough, Nicky.” She pulled him away from the railing. “Everyone come this way. It’s time to head toward the Maiden with the Seagull.” She started off, holding Nick by the arm, but he wrenched away.

  Talk about awkward.

  “It actually was not such a bad question,” Jacques said with a grin.

  Sophie pushed at his shoulder. “Hey! Don’t be creepy.”

  He laughed and then winked at her. Ugh.

  Rose was already moving off after Clio and Nick. This could be my chance. I slid away from the rail and jogged up to her. “Hey, don’t leave. You have to save me.”

  She glanced at me, but then stared straight ahead. “From what?”

  “From Marie,” I whispered.

  Both her eyebrows went up at that. “Really. You didn’t look like you wanted to be saved.”

  So she was paying attention. “Oh, I did. She’s a little scary.”

  A short laugh popped out of her. Good. That was almost the sound I was looking for. But I still wanted to cause that infectious rolling laugh she was so good at. “How exactly?” she asked.

  The others had followed, and fortunately we had Jacques and Sophie directly behind us. They’d probably be so interested in their own conversation that they’d pay no attention to us. But I needed to keep it quiet anyway. “First, she kept grabbing me, and then—Did you see the way she was looking at my legs? I swear that look singed some of the hair off.”

  Rose eyed me like she was trying to decide if I was giving her a load of crap or not. “Whatever. You loved it.”

  I couldn’t shake my head fast enough. “No, I didn’t. It’s really hard to get someone to quit hanging on you without being rude.”

  She looked away. “I wouldn’t know.”

  What the heck did that mean? Was she mad at me? Wait a sec. Could she possibly be jealous? Maybe. And if she was that meant she liked me. Right? A warm feeling wriggled through me and settled in. I shouldn’t get ahead of myself here. Take it slow. “Well, if you want to know the truth, I really wanted to talk to you this morning.”

  Eleven

  Rose

  He wanted to talk to me? Then why was he letting Marie get so close? Oh, I understood the whole not being rude thing. Up to a point. But you have to let people know where you stand. At least, that’s what Lindsey always says. I had no experience with someone hanging on me. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I wanted to know if you’re feeling better about the whole bracelet thing.”

  Why? Had he noticed me questioning people about it? Nah. There was no way he could guess what I was talking to Sun Visor Lady about last night. “I’m fine.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Because you seemed upset when you left us yesterday afternoon.”

  He’d caught that? I must not be a very good actress. We reached the stairs we’d come up before and headed down, following Clio and Nick back across the area where we got off the tender. I could feel Sam’s gaze, even with his sunglasses on. I fingered the strap of my cross-body purse. “It’s not a lot of fun to have everyone thinking you stole something.”

  “Not everyone does.”

  “Ha. You say that, but deep down, you have to admit you had at least a moment of doubt.”

  “Of course, I did. Who wouldn’t? But the reality hit just as fast. If you’d actually stolen the thing, why would you be walking around with it in your pocket? I heard it had been missing since the morning. You would’ve had to be a complete imbecile to steal something in the morning and then carry it around all afternoon. And you’re definitely not an imbecile.”

  Why did he have to be so nice? An involuntary smile curved my lips. It was hard to stay mad at him for flirting with Marie when he acted like this. “You don’t know me very well. I really could be a complete imbecile, and you just haven’t figured it out yet.”

  He chuckled. “That would make me the imbecile, not you.”

  “Who’s an imbecile?” Alexis asked, hopping up next to Sam.

  He edged toward me. “No one.”

  “Aw, come on. Tell me. Is it Sophie?”

  “Am I what?” Sophie asked, moving in front of us and walking backward.

  “An imbecile like the rest of us,�
� Alexis said.

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Alexis always surprised me with the stuff that came out of her mouth.

  “Of course, she is not,” Jacques said.

  Oh, goody. Everybody was chiming in. So much for our private conversation. Marie passed us, threw a dirty look at me over her shoulder, and caught up with Clio. Huh. Guess I ruined your plans for Sam. You should realize that he ruined them, not me. It’s because he’s so not into you.

  I could always think of the best things to say to people in my head. Those remarks just never saw the light of day.

  Clio motioned us toward a sloping entrance up another walkway. Probably an extension of the promenade. Nick walked beside her with hunched shoulders. Their relationship was the only thing that seemed out of the ordinary today. Clio was clearly angry with him, and with good reason—he was being an obnoxious kid. But I sensed it was more than that. Like a deep, underlying irritation that was being suppressed. I needed to pay attention to see if I could figure it out.

  In this direction on the promenade, we were heading toward what looked like the touristy center of things. A concrete beach—didn’t these people understand sand?—with row after row of rainbow beach umbrellas fronted a line of upscale cream-colored hotels with terracotta roofs. I didn’t know a lot about architecture, but they were definitely not from this century. And probably not the last one either.

  Up ahead, on a rocky outcropping in the water, rose a statue of a girl holding a seagull with raised wings on her outstretched hand. The path widened here, no doubt so that more than one person could admire the statue at a time. A park bench sat off to one side. Clio had us gather around and then started in on the history of the Maiden with the Seagull.

  Interesting but I couldn’t pay attention. My thoughts kept fixating on the statue. It struck me how lonely the maiden seemed. Just a statue, her dark gray stone skirts swirling around her calves, all by herself except for the seagull alighting on her hand. A familiar ache settled near my heart. How often had I felt that way? Alone while life went on around me. There but not really there. I’d spent both middle school and the first two years of high school like that. If it weren’t for Lindsey and Claire pushing me, dragging me along on their crazy adventures, I’d probably still spend all my free time in my bedroom.

  But here was the weird thing. I’d thought this cruise was going to be basically spending time in a bedroom that rocked from side to side. Instead, I was interacting with people I’d met two days before, even though many of them thought I was a jewel thief. I swallowed the incredulous noise that threatened to escape. Me. Rose Mulligan. A jewel thief.

  I should probably take it as a compliment. But no. I’d rather be known as the person who found the thief, which meant I needed to stop standing around pretending to be the Maiden’s twin statue. Especially since she now had a live seagull on top of her head.

  Nick laughed and pointed. Oh well. So much for the glamour of the thing. All it took was one well-placed seagull to make things seem ordinary.

  I took a minute to study my new friends/suspects. Sophie and Alexis sat together on the park bench, Sophie with hands resting in her lap, Alexis with her arms folded as she stared at Clio. Jacques hovered near Sophie, one hand resting on the back of the park bench near her shoulder. Sam leaned back with his elbows against the railing, one foot perched on the lower rail. Marie stared out across the water toward the beach umbrellas. Nick clambered on the railing behind Clio—obviously so she wouldn’t see him.

  None of them looked particularly guilty. There were no drop-down signs saying “Jewel Thief” above any of their heads. No pointing arrows that said, “Look inside.” But there were secrets here. Things were not exactly as they seemed. And I wasn’t sure why I thought so.

  “So,” Clio said, “any questions?” Silence and head shakes followed. “Very well. Let us proceed to the beach where we can buy a snack, and if anyone wants to swim here, you can do so.”

  She headed off, and people followed. I hung back a bit so I could watch them all better. Sam strolled beside Alexis but stopped abruptly and came back. He edged close to my ear. “You know how we don’t know each other very well?” he asked, his voice quiet.

  Where had that come from? “Yeah?”

  “Let’s change that.” His lips curved into his one-sided smile, and all at once I was having trouble breathing.

  What exactly did he mean? I dragged some air into my lungs. “I—”

  “Zam,” Marie called from the head of the group. “Come look at zis.”

  He let out a breathy exhale. “Sometime today, we’re having a private conversation. Okay?”

  “Zam!”

  Good grief. She wasn’t giving up easily. “Okay,” I said and watched him stride up to Marie’s side. She wrapped her fingers around his elbow and pointed out across the water. Ha. Good luck with that. He wants to talk to me. Privately.

  But did he also want to talk to Marie alone? Was he just playing me? Like he said, we really didn’t know each other. He might be a real jerk. Up ahead, he peeled Marie’s fingers off his arm, saying something I couldn’t hear. Okay, maybe not a jerk. But as good as I was at reading people—being an observer gives you lots of practice—I often got it wrong where guys were concerned. Lindsey always called me clueless when I refused to believe that a boy might like me. Even if there were signs, I didn’t believe them.

  Anyway, as my heart rate returned to normal, I held on to that one thought—a private conversation. With Sam. I smiled, because no one was watching.

  ***

  We’d been hanging out watching the swimmers and sunbathers for half an hour—none of them bare-breasted, thank God—when Jacques pocketed his phone and walked away. An immediate alarm rang in my mind because he hadn’t said anything to anybody. In fact, it even looked like he’d waited until Sophie was deep in conversation with Alexis and Sam before making a move.

  Right. Time for a little investigating. I waited until Jacques slipped around the corner of the building with the public restrooms. Then, without looking back, I followed. First by heading for a trash can to throw away the remains of my ice-cream cone, and then by wandering his same path. I reached the corner of the building and eased around it. He was just up ahead, turning a corner to the left of a souvenir stand. My heart now pounding in my throat, I hurried to the corner and just saw the flash of his blue T-shirt as he entered a different building.

  I approached slowly. Letters had fallen off the first word above the door, leaving only an “ra” and then “Bar.” It was a bar? All this skulking around for a bar? Okay, then. Could I do this? I needed to go in. Otherwise, what was the point of following him?

  I wiped my palms on my shorts. I could do this. It would definitely make the cut for Lindsey’s challenge. Be impulsive. And a little bit dangerous. Right. I didn’t know what the laws were here about sixteen-year-olds in bars, but I was about to find out. I took a fortifying breath and walked in.

  Dim, gray light filled the room. I hesitated. A TV high on the wall in one corner showed a soccer game in play, but none of the four people seated at tables were watching it. Another six people sat at the actual bar, chatting with each other and the bartender, a mid-thirtyish guy with a beard. Down at the other end stood Jacques, holding a bottle of what was probably beer, deep in conversation with a man I couldn’t see very well. And other than a brief glance from those closest to the door, nobody paid any attention to me. Except the bartender, who had come out from behind the bar and was headed my way. Crap. What was I going to say?

  He stopped in front of me and shook his head. “No toilet,” he said with a heavy accent.

  Okay, those were not the words I expected to hear, so for two full seconds, I said nothing. Just stared with my mouth hanging open. Then I tried to smile. “No, a drink. I want a drink.”

  He scowled and loomed over me. “Toilet, customers only.” He waved an arm behind him.

  I stepped back but pointed at
myself. “Customer.”

  He set his hands on his hips, a slow smile making him a lot less threatening. “No. Too young.” He lifted his chin toward the door. “Go.”

  This was clearly not working. Not only was I not believably of drinking age, we were starting to attract attention. Of the worst kind—Jacques.

  He appeared behind the guy, said something in Croatian, and then stepped around him. In a surprising move, he pressed his beer into my hand, and with a smirk, nodded at it. “Go ahead,” he said. “You wanted a drink. And don’t worry. You’re not old enough to buy it in this country, but you’re old enough to drink it.”

  I stared at the dark brown bottle I held, wishing I could shove it back at him. I was in over my head here, and the only thing I could do was fake more experience than I had. That’s it. Pretend you’re Lindsey. I wiped off the mouth of the bottle with my shirt, and the snarky look on his face got snarkier. If that was even possible. Jerk. Without further hesitation, I downed a long swallow and then handed his beer back to him.

  Who in all of God’s creation invented such foul-tasting stuff? My face must’ve shown my opinion because Jacques laughed. He finished off the beer and left it on the bar. “Come.” He took my arm—what was it with these French people and grabbing people’s arms?—and led me outside. In a weak imitation of the bartender, he put his hands on his hips and scowled. “Why were you following me?” To my utmost horror, I burped. His frown fell away, and he shook his head. “Rose, Rose. You are such a child.”

  And as my dad liked to say when he thought he was being hilarious: Them’s fightin’ words. No one liked being called a child. And I especially didn’t. Not when I’d overheard more than one person telling Lindsey or Claire that I seemed so young. Just because I was quiet didn’t mean I wasn’t grown up. “So what were you doing? The ice cream get you so thirsty you had to wash it down with a beer?”

  His condescending expression didn’t change. “I met my father for a beer. My mother is shopping.”