Ameera, Unveiled (26 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Varn

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BOOK: Ameera, Unveiled
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“Jennifer, maybe I should get dry, have lunch, and let you do my henna after the marketing tour?” I suggested as I put on more sunscreen.

“Sure, we’ll get better henna results once you’re dry,” she said. “Let’s do your back. What’d you like?”

I paused to think. “I love peacocks,” I said. “Do you do those?”

“I’ll put your name in it,” she said. “Have you done henna before?” she asked, rearranging her towel.

“No, never,” I said.

“It needs to dry and crust,” she explained. “Eventually, you’ll rub it off. After lunch is probably a better time,” she concluded, settling into her chair. “It stains with time.”

I knew I wasn’t a tattoo girl, but henna seemed like a fun, temporary adventure. “No problem, mon,” I said, dumping melted ice and diluted Bloody Mary mix from my plastic cup. “Looking forward to getting to know y’all better this week,” I said, before the crowd reclaimed the chairs. “I feel like I’ve been trying to catch up with a freight train between auditions and Jamaica.”

“I’m glad you came with us,” Jennifer said. She dug around a beach bag and pulled out her veil poi. “I just got these and wanna learn how they work.”

“They look like tennis balls on ropes with small veils tied to the balls,” I observed. She rolled her wrists, making the balls mirror figure eights. Veils fluttered behind the inertia. “That’s really pretty, but it looks hard,” I added.

“You’ve just gotta keep the strings from crossing each other,” she explained.

Polly and Melody joined us, pulling their floats to their chairs.

“Those’re cool,” Polly said. “That end of the beach is watching you.” She nodded toward a small crowd near the point.

“That’s my goal,” Jennifer said. “Want ’em curious.” The infinity circles tangled and she worked on separating them. “There’s a rhythm to this.”

“I think your one-thirty walk on the wild side may be a little more effective,” Melody said. “But those’re fun to watch fly.”

“Nervous?” I asked Jennifer.

“Nah. Lara and I snuck behind my parents’ backs to sunbathe on a topless beach in New York when we were teens.” Jennifer grinned. “We thought we were being so bad. Boy, did I get sunburned.”

As we laughed at Jennifer’s story, the next wave of floaters emerged from the water to hit the chairs.

Ruth grabbed her cover-up. “I’m gonna walk around and look for birds,” she said. “Sybil, I’ll meet you at the buffet for lunch around noon.”

“I need to talk to the manager again about the show,” Sybil said, gathering and stuffing her beach bag. “Jennifer, I’ll be waiting over at the Prude pool bar for a report from your Nude beach excursion.” In usual Sybil fashion, she buzzed off to her next mission—a bee pollinating local hibiscus.

A couple walking the beach approached Jennifer. They must’ve wanted to ask about the veil poi. Jennifer’s countenance glowed as she handed the woman the props, encouraging her to play with them. I overheard Jennifer working in information about the dance class and our troupe. She was a smooth operator. She pointed at us and we waved blindly, assuming we were supposed to. The poi kept tangling as the woman tried to swing them in perfect figure eights. At last, she handed them back, laughing, and the couple continued walking down the beach.

Jennifer moved closer to the chairs. “They’re from Montana. Newlyweds,” she said, putting the veil poi back in her beach bag. “It’s their first time here too.”

“Bet it’s cold where they came from,” I said.

“I’m gonna grab a bite before the infamous Walk of the Seven Veils,” Jennifer said. “That’s how many I’ll need to wear to hide my jitters.”

“You mean your titters?” Denise asked, giggling.

“Titters? Lordie, Denise,” Kelly was laughing.

“Polly, Kelly . . . see you at the Nude path,” Jennifer said.

Kelly saluted.

“Wet T-shirt contest after lunch at the buffet,” Jennifer called as she strolled off.

“I’ll pass,” Polly yelled back.

We stragglers tucked bags under our chairs and migrated to the burger shack.

I looked at the tables and didn’t see any shade. My scalp reminded me how much sun I’d already gotten. I didn’t need to be glowing red in a chartreuse costume.

“Hey, let’s sit at the picnic tables by the volleyball net,” Kelly suggested, reading my mind. “There’s plenty of shade there.”

“Sounds good to me,” I agreed.

20

Music and shouting from the dining room signaled a lunch spin was in progress.

Palmetto Oasis was busy preparing for our own lunch spin: a dance class to inspire Hedo guests—Nude or Prude.

I headed toward the pool and settled into a chair. It was remarkably quiet except for the calls of blackbirds migrating from palm to palm.

“Hey, Radd, could I get a Diet Coke?” I asked. “This pool area’s so serene.”

“Not during volleyball games,” Radd said, glancing toward the Nude path. “It can be very active.”

“Prude volleyball?” I asked optimistically. “How do they get up enough people for a team?”

He smiled. “No . . . Nude volleyball. They use your volleyball court.”

“That’s a visual,” I said aloud. “Sorry, I’m sure they’re nice people. We haven’t gotten to mingle much with them yet.”

Thanking him, I returned to my chair, reflecting on the little personality reveals from partying last night to floating in the bay this morning. Jennifer was a romantic. Denise and Kelly were Clark Kents with superhuman mental powers curing MS. Ruth was focused on birding. Sybil and Polly were as familiar to me as a comfy bathrobe. Melody seemed lost without a schedule.

I looked at the beach, trying to calm my thoughts. Couples strolled toward a small green opening near a chain-link fence. As I followed them with my eyes, a tall, tan man with a camera emerged. His lens reminded me of an elephant’s trunk. He was a serious photographer in linen shorts.

“That’s him,” I spoke aloud. It was the stallion. If he took off his sunglasses, I’d be sure. I looked up the sidewalk to see whether Jennifer was on her way. His stride was long, like that of an egret on the hunt. He stooped to focus on the bay horizon, snapping pictures. Then he moved down the beach looking for another subject.

Damn, I thought. He’ll be gone before Jennifer returns.

For the next five minutes, I watched him fading into the horizon as I glanced toward the dock, looking up the path for the Bod Squad to arrive. He looked glorious as he passed out of sight—like a Jamaican sunset.

Fifteen minutes and another Diet Coke later, I looked up at the jingling of coins. I guessed they were on hips that were ready to hit the Nude path. Polly turned the corner.

“Hey, Polly,” I said. “Ready to evangelize our guests to step into belly-dance classes?”

“Following Jennifer’s lead,” she said. Her hair was dry and styled, her makeup flattering.

“I’ve just realized, you’re all single,” I said. “That’s kinda cool. Never know who you’ll meet!” I suggested mischievously.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Polly chided. “Jennifer’s got dibs on the stallion. Kelly wants bald men. We’re in Hedonism with two groups of swingers!” She put her hands on her hips.

“Don’t yell at me,” I said, and we both laughed. “Seriously, have fun and I hope y’all turn some heads for the classes. I think Melody’s discouraged at the lack of organization with local staff. She left two kids with a working hubby.”

“Yeah, she said this morning’s meeting really dropped her spirits,” Polly confirmed. “She’s calling him tonight to check how the kids are doing.”

Kelly and Denise rounded the corner with Sybil and Jennifer. “There’re your partners in crime,” I said, nodding toward them. They all looked beautiful and exotic.

“Ready, ladies?” Polly asked. She readjusted her orange veil.

“I’ll be keeper of the tops,” I volunteered. Sybil grinned and held her hand out for Jennifer’s. Denise silently asked for Kelly’s. I followed suit and lifted my eyebrow for Polly’s. She peeled it off immediately.

I waved one gold top. “Come on girls,” I invited, “surrender to the mission.” Denise and Sybil pelted me with the other two tops. “Geez, be nice. Jennifer’s top could leave a bruise.”

As they adjusted their veils, Kelly and Jennifer strategized with Polly.

“Jennifer, you do most of the talking,” Kelly said. “I’ll focus on their eyes and smile.”

“There’s a pool and a beach,” Jennifer shared. “We’ll just stroll through and be friendly. Do I have lipstick on my teeth?”

Polly checked and shook her head.

“Ready to go, ladies?” Sybil asked. “How long do we wait till we send in the posse?”

Jennifer laughed. “Don’t know. Maybe we’ll stray to the dark side!”

“I don’t think we’ll be gone more than thirty minutes,” Kelly said.

“If that,” Polly added.

“We’ll be here waiting on y’all,” Denise promised.

They turned and headed to the palm with the “Nude Beach” sign. Hips jingling and veils trailing gently behind them, they stopped before crossing the final threshold.

Kelly turned to yell, “Woo-hoo!” and pumped a fist in the air.

As they walked under the sign, we settled in to wait.

“So do we get to practice for a show?” I asked. I didn’t have all my dances down and needed help before being pushed into a stage event.

“Yes. I got permission for us to practice in the disco at 7:00 a.m.—before they clean it,” Sybil said.

“What about the two shows we were practicing for?” I asked. I’d carried costumes that weighed a ton for it.

“I’m still pursuing that but haven’t made much progress. Probably more realistically only one show,” she said. “I’ve really got no idea. I’m getting mixed signals. Just hope everyone can be flexible.”

My respect for Sybil elevated again. She was dedicated to working behind the scenes of a country that was on island time. I wished I had more influence and could help.

“We’ll just have to endear ourselves to them,” Denise said. “Everyone’ll love us. Then Cranky’ll have to let us perform.”

I toasted her with my Diet Coke. Sybil gave her a high five.

“So you and Ruth founded the troupe?” I asked, killing time.

“We met a long time ago at a Citadel game,” Sybil said, filling in some blanks. “Our husbands worked together. We both loved dancing and got together to polish her belly dancing. Eventually, another of the founders joined us and we decided to form a troupe.”

By the time our cups were empty, Sybil had caught me up on troupe history. She went through reasons women found their path to her class, then to facts on the existing troupe.

I heard Jennifer’s laughter coming from the Nude path. We turned our heads and saw three amused belly dancers emerging with veils still on their chests.

“Hurry, hurry! Tell us about it,” Sybil prompted excitedly. “Go get a drink and hurry back.”

“Denise, get me a light beer,” Kelly demanded. “I’d like to put my top back on.”

“Anyone else?” Denise asked.

“I’ll go with you,” Polly volunteered. “I’ll re-dress with a white wine.”

“Me too,” Jennifer walked off.

“Which is yours?” I asked facetiously. I held up Jennifer’s top beside Kelly’s.

“Very funny,” Kelly said, snatching her blue bathing-suit halter. “Hold my veil, please?”

I stood to make a curtain from the blue-silk veil.

“You really do like blue!” I said.

“Wait till you see me on Mardi Gras night,” Kelly said as she tied her top. “Y’all, there’re so many people over there.”

“Think anyone was interested?” I asked.

Denise walked up and gave Kelly a beer. “You earned it, hooker,” she said to Kelly before returning to her spot.

“Yeah, we talked to some nice people,” Kelly said. “This tastes good. Thanks, Denise. How long were we gone?”

“About twenty minutes,” Sybil answered. When Jennifer and Polly returned, they also took their tops from the end of my chair. Before I could ask Polly if she wanted me to hold a veil up, she’d dropped her veil and started putting on her top. Kelly put her veil up for Jennifer.

“So tell us everything,” Sybil said.

“There’re a lot of people there,” Jennifer said. “The pool was packed. Nobody acted weird. They were sunbathing, eating, and drinking. Some of them still had parts of their suits on. We met some of the swingers from Tulsa. A couple of them wanted to try the class tomorrow.”

“Do you think they’ll remember?” Denise asked.

“The swinger group wants to meet us at the disco tonight,” Polly said. “They wanted to be sure to show us their pajamas.”

“Question is: Will we know them in their pajamas?” Denise asked, giggling.

“Sounds like a good start to letting guests know about our class,” Sybil said with a big dimpled smile. “I’ll keep working on the show part.”

“I wanna get a little more sun,” Kelly said. “Anyone else?”

“I need to take care of a couple things,” Sybil said. “See you at the Japanese restaurant at six. Thanks for doing this, ladies.” She threw her cup in the trash as she headed toward the dining room.

“I’m up for some,” I said. I stood and the rest of the group followed Kelly back to our beach camp. “Henna, Jennifer?”

“Absolutely,” she said.

“By the way, I saw your stallion,” I said. “He walked down the beach with his camera. I’d hoped you’d make it back before you took your walk. He disappeared over by the dock.”

“We’ll hunt him down tonight,” she grinned. “Like quiet, pajama-clad, stealthy belly dancers. Now come closer and give me your back.”

“I’ve got your back,” I said.

“Thanks, Kat,” Jennifer said. I smelled the musty henna pen as she opened it. “One peacock, coming up.”

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