“So it wasn’t a dream.”
Clark shrugged, rose, and strode naked through our luxurious suite.
Gesturing with a lean arm he said, “I don’t know; this seems pretty much like a dream too.”
Looking down, I noticed that I was naked too. Shyly, I wrapped myself in more blankets.
Grinning mischievously, Clark strode over and, in one swift yank, tore the blankets away.
“Hey!” I protested, but his grin only broadened.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”
I could only ruefully agree and then, vengefully, heave a pillow at him. Clark, however, caught the floppy, cotton-cased thing easily. He turned to me with a dangerous gleam in his eye.
“Oh no,” I said, scrambling off the bed. He continued advancing, pillow out, ready to strike.
“Oh yes.”
I dashed out through the room and into the bathroom. But it was too late; Clark was inches away, striking me with the soft pillow, roaring with laughter as I shrieked in protest. Cornered in the kitchen, I held out my hands to stop the onslaught of pillow strikes in vain. Soon Clark swept me up in his arms, and carried my struggling form to the bed and tossed me onto it. There, pinning me down with his naked body, he kissed me while I laughed and shrieked.
“Clark, let me go! Let me go! Why are you doing this? Stop it, stop—”
Clark paused. Still pinning me down, he lifted his body a bit to get a good look at me.
“Because…” His gaze flicked to my lips. “Because…” Suddenly he frowned, and then rolled off me. “Actually, we better get going. We have a busy day ahead of us.”
With that, he strode into the bathroom and shut the door.
I stared at the closed ivory exterior for a minute, wondering if that was how it would always be with Clark. A door that opened only fleeting, only temporarily.
By the time I had gotten dressed and put on a touch of makeup, Clark was out of the bathroom and raring to go.
“We can have breakfast at the resort—if we don’t get out of this room now, we’ll never leave,” Clark joked. His smile seemed easy enough, although there seemed to be something behind it. I didn’t reply, but I returned his smile, and he seemed to relax just a little.
Soon we were outside on the plant-filled terrace, along with a few other sleepy-looking guests. We served ourselves buffet-style, chowed down the delicious eggs, bacon, and army of pastries, and then it was time to head out.
We were walking out of the resort’s front doors when I asked Clark “What happens now?”
Taking my hand, he kissed me on the cheek.
“What happens now is ca-knot time!”
At my blank stare, his face went red and he looked away.
“I said it wrong didn’t I?”
Giggling, I patted his arm.
“Maybe, if I had any idea what exactly it is you were trying to say. What is this “ca-knot” exactly?”
Clark gave a rueful smile.
“Those lakes…the holes of water you talked about on our date.”
While he pouted, I burst out laughing. After a minute, I searched his face incredulously.
“You remembered that?”
His smile was even broader now.
“Wait till you see the next part of today!”
And, as we waited for the car Clark had ordered, I squeezed his arm and into his ear, I whispered “And, babe, they’re called cenotes.”
Clark could scowl only for a second before he too was cracking up at his mistake.
Chapter Twelve
Clark
As we drove along to the cenote, Kristin couldn’t seem to keep her hands off me. Every second she was stroking my arm or kissing my cheek, or resting her head on my shoulder, or murmuring marvels in my ear how I had gotten an attendant to pack up our bathing suits and things without her even noticing. I kept my head turned to the window so she wouldn’t see the smile on my face.
I felt lazy, stupid. I felt like we could be in this rumbly car like this, with our grumbly bare-faced driver and his jangly dashboard gorilla, just traveling to our destination, not going anywhere and not doing anything, that we could do this forever and I would be happy. More than happy, I would actually prefer it, not being separated from the honey brown-haired girl resting her head on my shoulder.
I sat up straighter and leaned forwards to ask the driver: “Are we close?”
The driver grumbled something I couldn’t understand in reply. It could have meant anything from “yes, only five more minutes” to “no, I took a wrong turn and we’re actually headed towards Acapulco.”
Less than five minutes later, we had our answer. The car pulled into a parking lot, with a sign that read, Sistema Dos Ojos.
“Clark…” Kristin said quietly, shooting me a worried look and indicating the empty parking lot.
“I might have booked the whole place so we’d have it to ourselves.”
Kristin let out a disbelieving laugh. “You didn’t!”
Then, tearing out of the car while I paid the driver, she saw that indeed I had. After a quick talk with the attendant at the stand, we got changed into our bathing suits. Then, we hurried down the wooden staircase and we were there. The Sistema Dos Ojos. Or rather, one of the many entrances, according to the front desk attendant I’d talked to at our resort.
“This place is huge,” I told Kristin, “I think so far they’ve found 28 cenotes in the whole system. So, it’s best if we stick together so you don’t get lost.” Putting her arms around me, Kristin kissed me. “I wouldn’t mind getting lost all that much.”
I kissed her back and grinned.
“Oh no?”
She only kissed me in response.
The first stop we reached was more of a cave than a cenote, it didn’t have any water, but boasted an impressive array of stalactites. Kristin oohed and aahed, but this wasn’t what we’d come here for. No, we’d come here for the next cavern, the one we had to swim through several minutes to get to: a real open-air cenote.
“Oh wow,” Kristin said, swimming into the sunlight.
“Oh wow” was the least of it. The light streaming down, the crystal-clear water—hell, even the clean, clear scent—it was stunning. The floor was slick rock, the walls the same smooth perfection. And the light, the light streaming around the woman who was herself a light, the light throwing that beaming face into an almost heavenly halo. This was perfect, she was perfect.
We stayed in the cenote for an uncountable amount of time. Kristin twirled and laughed and soaked up the sun, while I watched, there for her to kiss and hold, but nothing more. To do anything more, even to respond to Kristin’s stroking of my chest and advances, seemed like it would have been too much. Right now this moment was already so ideal, to do anything seemed like it would disturb it.
Finally, my stomach began to growl, and when Kristin asked if I wanted to get some lunch, I couldn’t refuse.
Back at the stand with the floppy-haired, tanned attendant, were the lunches I had ordered in advance. Sitting under a palm tree, Kristin and I ate chicken stir-fry to our heart’s content and, when we went to rise, we found that we didn’t want to.
“I’m tired,” Kristin said, flopping back onto the grass with a lazy smile. I flopped back beside her.
“Looks like it’s time for part two of today’s adventure,” I said, and she grinned.
Helping her up, I led her to our driver, who had been waiting, flopped in his car with his phone out. Then, we were in the car and back on the road again. Much of the journey was scenic, with lush forests on either side of the road. Even if it weren’t for that, the ride would’ve been more than enjoyable, with easy conversation with Kristin about nothing in particular.
At one point, she asked “When do I get to find out where we’re going?”
I kissed her cheek. “When we get there.”
And it wasn’t long before we were pulling into another parking lot. This one had a small woode
n cabin further off, marked “Coba.”
Getting out of the car and looking around, Kristin squeezed my arm.
“Clark you didn’t for this one, too! You did it again, booked it for us. A Mayan pyramid to explore all alone!”
I took her in my arms and pulled her into my chest.
“I just wanted you to get to do everything you wanted in Mexico in the best way possible.”
“But this all must have cost a fortune!” Kristin protested, but I waved my hand.
“Don’t you worry about that. You just worry about having the best possible time here and seeing all the sights.”
And so, we did. We walked all over the expansive, thankfully tree-covered grounds. We gazed and marvelled at the towering pyramids and stone structures, many which were impressively intact. We took a ride in a cart pulled by an eager, shaggy-haired boy named Antonio. He told us stories of Coba, of how it had been an ancient Mayan city and now was part of the largest network of stone causeways of the ancient Mayan world.
When we reached the main pyramid, which he told us was called Nohoch Mul, he left us to climb it alone.
We stood at the bottom, gazing up the huge stone structure. Once Antonio had left, Kristin cast me a sidelong glance.
“Are you sure that we’re supposed to climb all the way up it? That you’re not just tricking me since no one’s here to stop us?”
I poked her in the side.
“What? Are you chickening out?”
With a furious glare, Kristin set to climbing. Luckily, the pyramid was laid out in stone steps, although that didn’t make the steep ascent much easier. The steps themselves were small and crumbling and every step was an act of vigilance, requiring focused attention. Once I had caught up to her quickly ascending form, I made sure to hold Kristin’s hand; I wasn’t about to let anything happen to her.
Slowly but surely, we ascended the stone structure, one step at a time. By the time we reached the top, we collapsed and leaned against a stone house structure on the summit. There, leaning on each other, breathing in and out deeply, it took us a minute to notice.
“Clark, look!” Kristin exclaimed and I did.
At once, all words left me. For there were no words, not for this awe-inspiring view. There was the steep ramp of the stone pyramid, the very incline we had just walked up. There was the sea of green trees with little flecks of the gray tops of other ruins. There was the smooth blue and fluffy white celebration of sky and cloud. And then there was this beautiful woman here in my arms, her eyes teared-up with the majesty of it, with the glory of it, of seeing this and being here and feeling this.
“It’s beautiful,” I finally said. But her gaze was fixed on the horizon, on the sprawling sight before us. She didn’t see that I hadn’t been looking at the horizon at all.
We stayed up there for a long time, reveling in the view from different angles and sides, kissing when we got bored. Eventually, we grew weary with all the walking and decided now was as good a time as any to make the equally perilous descent. This time we held onto the rope provided, since it was even harder descending the steep incline of stone.
At the bottom, Antonio was waiting for us, cart at the ready. So, in we climbed and off he went, through the trees, past the monuments we’d already seen, back to our car with our driver who was waiting, once again, hunched over his phone.
The drive back to our resort was one of interrupted sleep, of finally falling asleep, only to be woken up by a particularly sharp bump in the road. By the time we finally got back to our room, we only had enough energy to collapse in bed before falling fast asleep.
Thanks to my phone’s alarm, we woke up at 11 pm.
“Clark…” Kristin groaned sleepily and I kissed her cheek.
“Babe, it’s 11,” I said, and she sat up straight in bed.
“Really?”
I nodded and showed her my phone.
“There’s one more thing on the agenda for today—if you want.”
“What’s that?”
“I want to take you out dancing.”
Kristin smiled.
“But where?”
I got out of bed and held out my hand to help her out too.
“The only place to go: Coco Bongo.”
She took my hand.
“Then let’s go.”
I smiled and got out of bed, there was no time to waste.
We got a different driver to take us to the club; he was equally ill-tempered, although his speeding us there made up for it. By the time our car pulled up to the huge lit-up sign with its giant fake palm tree, there was already a sizable line out front. Luckily, I had planned for this. Walking to the front of the line and ignoring the protests of those in it, I flashed the bouncer my VIP ticket. With a curt nod, he stepped aside and we were in.
Inside, the place was vibrating with an overpowering, wall-shaking beat. Every person was drunk with it, gyrating and laughing in time to the irresistible thump-thump-thump. The first thing to do was obvious.
Making straight for the bar, I bought Kristin two Sex on the Beaches and myself two beers.
“How did you know?” she asked, sipping at her orangey pink drink.
“Babe, when will you get it?” I replied, sipping at my beer, “I remember things. I care about you.” And it was stupid. I had meant it half as a joke, but it had come out strangely sincere.
Kristin paused to look at me. To really, fully look at me. I looked away. She kissed my cheek. And, into my ear, she whispered, “I know. More than you think.”
And then I took her hand and we were lost in the surge of the crowd. Downing our drinks happened fast enough, it was all part of the beat, the “more,” the sweat and alcohol and cologne and perfumed heat wafting around everything.
The music was relentless, the bodies were one constant throb, and more alcohol was handed over and gulped down. I was pressing Kristin to me; she was pressing herself to me. We were kissing, but even our lips were locked into the beat. We got pool noodles from somewhere; we were thrusting them up to the beat. Kristin and I twirled together, parting the waters of the people. We were surrounded but alone. Enveloped but free. I kissed her and she was laughing, glistening in sparkles from somewhere, her eyes half-shut with glee.
This girl is different, I thought. I watched her, and my drunken thoughts spoke to me. This girl is the one I want to marry.
The rest of the night was one long dance, more drinks, more pool noodles, and more kissing. At some point we were outside, we found a cab. The cab delivered us to the resort, although the beat had followed us there. We were kissing and then we were in our room and then we were naked. And then I was inside her, and it was nothing like I’d ever felt. And we were in and out incarnate, cumming and yelling it out and kissing again before finally, the beat released us, and allowed us to sleep.
Chapter Thirteen
Kristin
I woke up in Clark’s arms. Last night was a hazy, pleasant memory, but now I was here with him. I kissed him and we cuddled, until the growling of my stomach ruined it. Patting my midriff, Clark gave me an amused smile.
“Is that your way of saying I should order us breakfast in bed?”
No sooner had I smiled then was he on our room’s phone, ordering two stacks of blueberry pancakes. When he hung up, grinning, I asked him “How did you know?”
With a theatrical sigh, Clark kissed me then asked “Do I really have to say it again?” So we only laughed and cuddled some more, until our food arrived. We gobbled down the pancakes in record time; I was hungrier than I’d even thought. Then we got changed, although this time I made sure to pack my bathing suit and things myself, just in case.
Clark brought me back to the lobby, where he talked to the front desk attendants and returned with snorkeling gear. “We’re going to look for Nemo,” he said with an eager grin.
I cast an incredulous look at him. “Just on the beaches here?”
He nodded, and I continued “And have you snorkeled before?�
�� When he shook his head, I giggled and took his hand. “Good, then I won’t be the only one who sucks at this.”
And yet, as it turned out, the whole snorkeling thing wasn’t all that difficult. Swimming by the shallow beaches, we saw incredible sights—fish that were every color of the rainbow, the reef and coral that looked like it had been plucked from the background of a cartoon.
I loved the quiet of it, under the water, how all you could see were the bright flashes of colorful life. I loved how, just when I began to lose myself in it, the breathtaking sea life all around me, Clark squeezed my hand, as if to remind me that he was here, spellbound by it all too.
By the time we were finished, we lay out in the warm soft sand and curled up into each other. We were pretty much left to ourselves on this far-off beach, or so I thought. As Clark was about to kiss me, his phone rang. Clark froze. The phone rang again, and he dashed to where we had left our bags. He lifted his phone to his ear and began talking animatedly. I wandered back in the water and swam around. The water was nice and cool, just the right temperature, and there was a faint smell of flowers in the air. I wasn’t worried. Whatever it was, Clark would be back soon enough.
When he returned, however, his face was dark.
“What is it?” I asked, stepping onto the shore, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze.
“A work emergency,” he said to his phone. A silence, during which I assured myself that what he had said did not mean what I thought it meant.
“We have to go back,” he said, and I sunk down in the sand. I closed my eyes and covered my face.
“I’m sorry, Kristin,” Clark was saying. “My hands are tied here.”
I wiped my eyes, and sat up, but I couldn’t look at him.
“When do you have to go?”
“Now,” Clark said, and I rose. I blinked back the oncoming tears, took a deep breath and I told myself: Shut up. Don’t say a word now, you have your answer. You have your answer if he really cares, so don’t you dare say another word.
And I didn’t. No, as Clark said some more things, some more things that weren’t the right things, I said nothing. As we packed up our stuff and left the gorgeous room we had only had two nights in, I said nothing. As our taxi took us to the airport, I said nothing. And, for the whole flight, all eight hours of it, I said nothing.
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