Something Right Behind Her (19 page)

Carlos was waiting
for the group down by the boats. I had begun to wonder whether he really was
going on this trip, and I was actually kind of relieved I hadn’t seen him. I
wasn’t sure I thought this trip was a great flirtation opportunity. Also, I
wasn’t sure how much fun this flirt-with-the-hospitality-guy-
to-forget-about-my-real- life was going to be. It was his job, after all, to
flirt with everyone, so how much of a kick could it be, even if he was pretty
damn hot?

Out on the dock,
Carlos looked a little shorter, a bit narrower in the shoulders than he had
seemed before. He was wearing a white hooded sweatshirt, with the hood up to
keep off the bugs. A few stray curls poked out from under the hood. He had on
gray sweats that were pushed up to the knee, like knickers, with some snazzy
little boating shoes.

Dad and I were
at the front of the line and Carlos helped me down into the kayak and then he
showed me and Dad the stroke again and told us just to paddle around while we
waited for everyone else. He was pretty businesslike, but after watching me
paddle a few strokes, he called out “Oh, Andy-Bella, you are a natural at this.
Such a disappointment! I thought I would get to rescue you!”

Dad shot me a
look, like who the heck is this guy? I shrugged, like these guys sure are
friendly! And kept paddling around Dad in circles. “You are kind of good at
this,” Dad said. He looked serious with his glasses on and his cap pulled down,
but he didn’t have the timing quite right, and he was a lot slower than me at
first. By the time everyone else got in the boats, Dad had it mastered, though.
I was relieved. I really didn’t want Dad to be the guy Carlos had to wait for
when everyone else went out ahead.

The older guide
watched us all paddle and then he put us in a line, with me and then Dad as the
first two. We were a bit more adept than most of the others, and some of the
guests were really lame, especially the young blonde, who looked like she was
ready to cry. The smoky French guy was actually good and he went right behind
Dad. The blond girl’s boyfriend clearly didn’t want to be held up by her and he
pulled into line behind the French guy without even being told. His girlfriend
was going to end up being Carlos’ problem. Carlos seemed cool with this though.
He was speaking softly to the girl, trying to reassure her that the whole thing
was really very relaxing and lovely.

We started out
up a narrow channel you couldn’t even see from the dock, because it was so
overgrown. As we started paddling, the trees and bushes seemed to shoot up
around us, almost like a tunnel. Dad turned around and smiled at me under his
cap - like I had to admit, it was pretty cool already, which it was.

Our guide set a
decent pace and Dad and Frenchy and I kept right up with him. After Frenchy,
there was a gap and the blonde’s boyfriend was there paddling away. He was a
big guy, but he didn’t have the stroke quite right, like he dipped his paddle
in too deep or something, and slowed himself down. I got into watching the
paddle dip into that still, dark water and just gliding along. It was easy to
not think about anything out there. It was easy to believe that life could
always be this simple, this tranquil. There was a slight breeze that rustled
the leaves from time to time, but mostly the only sound was the paddles
dipping. None of us spoke.

Suddenly, I
noticed a rustling closer to the ground, not up high in the treetops like I’d
heard before. The guide paused for a half a second and looked to his right like
he’d heard it too, and then he kept paddling. I wanted to call out to him
– hey what was that, but I really didn’t want to fall behind. Then, I
heard the sound again and so did Dad and the guide. We all stopped paddling and
looked to the right.

Just as I turned
my head, something black jumped out of the bushes between my Kayak and Dad’s. I
started to scream just as a second animal burst from the vegetation and plunged
right into the river at the same spot the first one had. It was too dark to see
them, but I could make out just the shape of their heads - and I could tell
they were headed away from us, making a quick crossing to the other side, where
they emerged and darted into the forest again. It all happened so quickly, the
guide hadn’t had time to get his flashlight on them - they had already darted
away when he called out, “Just dogs, you see, just the wild dogs.”

“Oh my God, “ I
muttered. I noticed I was shaking. “Oh my fucking God.” Dad was trying to back
his boat up closer to mine. “You okay, Andy? Did you hear what he said - they
were dogs.”

“I know Dad, I
just was so startled. That totally freaked me out!” I didn’t explain how I
really felt - like no matter where I went, as soon as I let my guard down for a
second, something was bound to jump out at me in the dark. The dogs were like a
nightmare image - a disturbance I’d have felt unsure had been real, if Dad
hadn’t been there with me.

“Yes,” called
the guide. “Yes, that even freaked me out a bit, too! Usually, this is not even
the place they cross at!”

“Now he tells us
about the wild dog crossing,” I said to Dad. Dad was getting over the whole
thing and started to chuckle.

“Make a good
story, though!” He said.

“I don’t think
I’ve ever seen them do that before,” the guide went on. It is unusual for them
to spring out in front of a kayak. They wait until we pass.” He said.

“Yeah, makes you
wonder what they’re running from.” I said. The guide thought that was really
funny, although I hadn’t intended it as a joke.

I managed to
calm back down after a few more minutes of quiet paddling. I noticed the French
guy was managing to paddle and smoke a cigarette at the same time. The wild
dogs must have been the final straw for him.

We went around
one final bend in the narrow river and gradually things started opening up. You
could see the sky, with a million stars out, and then, sure enough, the channel
parted completely and we found ourselves at the side of a small lake. At first,
I didn’t notice anything glowing – there was just the water and the sky
and the warm breeze. It was all really pleasant and mysterious seeming. Then I
noticed as I paddled, that light spots appeared in the water. As I dipped the
paddle in and let it drift for a moment, trails of light appeared. “Cool, Dad
look at your paddle!” I called out. Dad was already staring down at the water,
studying the effect of his paddle on these little microscopic organisms. Dad
looked up and smiled. He looked young in the moonlight, with his cap on, and
his broad shoulders, paddling his boat. I could almost see what Mom saw in him
all those years ago. He must have been cute, serious-seeming, the kind of guy a
girl
should
pay
attention to.

The rest of the
group began filing out from the channel, with everyone discovering their
glowing paddles as they moved out into the center of the lake. There was a gap
in the line and you could see the blonde’s boyfriend was getting kind of
nervous, but then even she appeared at the end of the channel with Carlos
behind her. Her hair, which had been pulled back into a tight ponytail was
frizzed up around her face and she still paddled awkwardly. Carlos got out from
behind her and paddled over to the head guide as soon as the blond got safely
into the lake. Carlos gave me a little wave and grinned as he went by. “Like
our wild dogs, Andy?” He asked.

“Oh yeah, cute
pups,” I replied. I guessed that the head guide had a walkie talkie or radio
and called to Carlos to warn him of the dogs, lest blondie completely freak
out. I felt kind of proud that my little scare had turned into a source of
gossip among the guides, as if I had gained importance in their eyes.

Once everyone
made it to the center of the lake, the head guide got us all into a circle, and
tossed a rope around us so all of our kayaks could be held together without us
needing to paddle. I wasn’t sure what the deal was with that until he said,
“OK, now, here is the best spot to see our famous phosphorescent lake, but
please do not swim outside of our circle.” He paused then, for effect. “You
know we don’t want to lose anybody.” He added ominously.

“You mean, to
wild dogs, or,” I said, “worse?” I looked around expecting to see crocodile
heads by the shore.

“Oh, no, no
beasts here,” he said chuckling. “We just don’t want to lose anyone in the
dark.”

“Yeah, right,” I
said. I had taken the role of wise-ass kid, since it seemed appropriate and no
one else was playing along with the guide and his spooky talk. Dad gave me a
little nod of approval, as if he liked my kidding around.

After his
speech, the main guy, and Carlos both stripped down and dove into the water.
Several guests followed suit, including Dad. I took my time taking off my
sweats. I wasn’t sure I was so eager to hop into that dark lake. Then I noticed
Carlos glance my way from the other end of the circle, and so I casually pulled
my sweat shirt over my head and wriggled out of my pants. I let my legs drop
over the side of the kayak, careful not to tip the boat over or let any water
in, and then I dunked my head. When I surfaced, I was encircled by the luminous
water. As I moved my hands, more luminous streaks followed. My hair sparkled
with them.

“When I first
saw them, I thought it must be a fake, some kind of pollution, or manmade
chemical.” Carlos was treading water beside me, making his own delicate,
shimmering streaks.

“How old were
you?” I asked, figuring he grew up around such marvels.

“Oh, this was
just last year, when I first came down here to work.” He said.

“You’re not
Dominican then?” I asked.

“Of course I
am,” He said. “I am Dominican-New Jerseyan.” He smiled a sort of gotcha smile.
“Sorry to disappoint you.”

“No, I just
assumed you were born here at this hotel and had been swimming in this lake
since you were a toddler.” I could feel my cheeks get hot. I hadn’t meant to
sound sarcastic, just a little sassy, like I hadn’t really given Carlos or
where he lived a moment’s thought.

“Jersey City,
actually, is where I was born. My dad’s a dentist in Short Hills.”

He might as well
be Jewish, is what I thought, but I just laughed. “So you ran away from Short
Hills to be a tour guide?” I asked.

“Ah, I thought
I’d learn the business,” he said. “My dad and my uncles are investors in this
hotel and some others on the island. I took a year off before going to college
to learn about the business. My dad’s one of those guys who thinks you can’t
run a hotel if you don’t know how to make a bed.” Carlos was lying on his back
now drifting closer to where I was treading water.

“So you’re the
one who makes the beds?” I asked, turning over to float on my back.

“That was in
September,” he said. “This month, I am restaurant manager and hospitality
crew.”

“And which do
you find preferable?” I asked, thinking it was time to paddle away from him, or
duck my head and swim under water, but I stayed where I was, a little too eager
to finish the conversation.

“Well, on the
whole, the maids are pretty cute, so I enjoyed September quite a lot. And some
of the guests” he said, lowering his voice, “can be a bit
demanding
, but all-in-all
I think I like being Mr. Hospitality. I am sort of a people person.” He sounded
in the dark like he was smiling.

I wondered what
I had done or said to invite this speech, or did Carlos just enjoy shattering
peoples’ expectations of him. No, he was not some kid from the village donning
his hotel-uniform in one of those two room houses along the highway. No, he was
Carlos from-New-Jersey, son of a prosperous dentist, whose dad invested in the
family’s hotel business. I was the sort of girl he knew from Short Hills, only
down here, I’d be mistaken about who he was. He obviously enjoyed having the
upper hand.

“And how many girls
a month do you supply with your complete biography?” I asked, figuring either
we’d get to be friends, or I’d piss him off enough we’d avoid each other the
rest of the week.

He rolled off
his back and swam closer to me. I still had trouble seeing his face. “I talk
about myself,” he said, “to people who seem interesting. Otherwise, I let them
think what they want, and usually, it’s strange how invisible I seem to be to
them.” I wondered what made me seem different to him. Or, if what he was saying
was true at all. I still thought everything he said sounded well-rehearsed.

“Well, then what
made me seem interesting to you?” I asked.

He raised his
head out of the water. I could see just the outline of his hair, which stuck up
at goofy angles. He looked skinnier there in the dark - less the handsome
island hospitality guy, and more like some kid I might know from school, and
maybe not even ever notice.

“Tell you the
truth,” he said, “I noticed you were sitting there on the beach by yourself and
that you were pretty.” He paused for a moment, “Then I noticed that you were
looking at me.” We were a few feet away from each other now, drifting there in
the dark lake water, with all sorts of strangers bobbing around us - and
somewhere, Dad was out there bobbing along in the darkness. So it was me, he
was implying, who had made the first subtle move.