Stealing Phin (5 page)

“What is your name, amiga?”

“Phin,” my voice sounded thin.

“My name is Carlito.” He took my hand and placed the rope into it, then positioned my hand next to my hip, indicating that I should keep it there. My pulse quickened with adrenaline, and I suddenly wished I had paid more attention during the demonstration.

“Are you ready?” Carlito asked. He put his hands on my waist again and tried to back me up another step. But I resisted.

“Wait,” I squeaked, “shouldn’t we go on a practice waterfall first?”

Carlito smiled. “This
is
the practice waterfall.”

Oh
god.

“I think I’m officially scared,” I admitted lamely.

“Do not worry.” He pressed his hands gently against my waist and eased me back toward the edge of the platform. “I will take care of you.” He moved as though he were leading me in a slow dance until we stood right at the edge. “Now lean back.”

I did as he said. The sound of the water hitting the rocks below filled me with fear.

“Now jump and let go of the rope.”

Before I could chicken out and further embarrass myself in front of the entire tour group whose eyes were all on me at this point, I took a deep breath and pushed off the platform. I loosened my grip on the rope and let it slide though my gloved hand. I floated backward and downward. The waterfall streamed next to me within arms reach as my feet touched back onto the rocky wall several feet below the platform. The sensation was amazing, and I suddenly grew giddy.

Wanting an even bigger rush, I pushed off again, harder this time, and loosened my grip on the rope even more.

My body jerked suddenly in the air, as the rope caught in the clasp. I twisted on the rope and banged awkwardly against the rocky wall, hip-first. Regaining my footing, I tried to push off again, but the rope seemed to be stuck.

“What am I doing wrong?” I yelled up to Carlito, who was watching me from the platform.

He laughed. “Nothing. You just need to eat more rice and beans, chica.” He turned to say something to Alfredo in Spanish. Then, he looked at me again and said, “Try it again.”

This time, with the help of Alfredo tugging on the rope from the top, I managed to make the rest of the descent with ease.

The guide with smiling eyes caught me at the bottom.

“How was it?” he asked as he unhooked me from the rope.

“Exhilarating!” I said, breathless and beaming. A flash of light shined in my eyes.

Smiling Eyes pointed a thumb at the other guide holding the camera. “Our paparazzi. He got some good pictures of you.”

The paparazzi took a few more photos of me before aiming his camera back at the platform to take shots of Dez who was next in line. Smiling Eyes and I laughed as Dez whooped the entire way down.

After all the other people, including Alfredo and Carlito, made the descent, the group followed the stream through the canyon to the next waterfall.

Dez was working her magic on Smiling Eyes, whose name turned out to be Estevan, so I walked on ahead to give them some space.

I lost myself in the sensory overload of the dense rainforest and tried to take in everything about my surroundings. As I negotiated the rocky and often challenging hike down stream, stepping sure-footed from one slippery rock to the next and wading through muddy knee and waist level puddles that had gathered in some spots, my confidence grew. I’d never done anything like this before and was enjoying myself like a kid on a new, exciting adventure.

When I came to a section where the water cut swiftly through a narrow pass between two craggy walls of rock that formed a narrow V-shape with the ground, I felt someone grab my wrist.

“Let me go first, amiga.” It was Carlito. “This part can be tricky.”

I stepped aside and let him pass. I watched as he expertly bounded over the water by jumping from one foot against a wall to the other foot against the opposite wall, somehow catching precisely the right footholds without a hitch. It was obvious that he wanted to show off his skills, which I had to admit were impressive.

When he reached the end where the path opened up a little, he turned around.

“You can walk through the water. It is fast but shallow,” he said to me.

I glanced again at the rushing water, thinking the rest of the hike was going to be a nightmare if I happened to lose one of my water shoes. “I think I’ll try it your way.”

Carlito hesitated, and I could tell he was about to say that it wasn’t a good idea, but instead he grinned and said, “Choose whatever way you like. I will wait here for you.”

I nodded and put my foot out against the right wall. I caught a foothold and swung my other foot out against the left wall, my feet about shoulder’s width apart.

This
isn’t
so
hard
, I thought confidently, as I stepped carefully over the water with my feet braced against the wall crags.

Unfortunately, about halfway down the path things got a little harder. The space between the walls widened. I kept my feet going against the rocks and inched my way forward, even though with every step, my shoulder-width straddle over the water also widened.

“I think I might’ve made a bad choice,” I said when I got to a point where my legs were practically in the splits. They were spread so far apart, in fact, that it was impossible for me to push off the walls hard enough to change plans and step down into the water. Not without breaking an ankle, which Alfredo had already pointed out would ruin my fun on the tour.

“Keep going,” Carlito encouraged, “you are doing so well.”

So, I inched onward, but mainly because I didn’t have any other option.
God,
I
must
look
pretty
stupid
right
now.

When I finally reached Carlito, he took my hand and helped me down onto the small ledge of rock where he stood. At this point, my thighs and calves were burning from the spread-eagled traverse. My legs felt so weak that I fell into Carlito’s arms and had to lean against him for a few moments to catch my breath.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, embarrassed by my clumsiness.

“Don’t be sorry, chica,” Carlito looked impressed. “That was very good. You are so…flexible. Like a dancer.”

I laughed heartily because I’d pictured myself more as a clown, but I appreciated his compliment. “Gracias.”

Carlito stayed next to me for the rest of the hike. In between the second and the final waterfalls, we came upon the first of our two “wet surprises.” It involved a large puddle of water where the stream had collected in a basin of rock. The water was murky, which made it impossible to tell how deep the puddle was. All the other similar puddles we’d crossed so far came up to waist-level, at the most. So, when Carlito jumped into this one and disappeared completely underwater, I yelped.

When his head popped up a second or two later, he smiled at me. “Surprise!”

“A little warning would’ve been nice,” I laughed with relief.

“True.” He shook his head, whipping the water from his hair. I felt like I was watching a sexy commercial for men’s cologne. “But then it would not be a surprise.” He climbed out of the deep puddle and pointed to the spot right at its center where it was deepest.

I took aim and jumped in. When I surfaced, Carlito helped me out of the water. I’d worn my bikini under a white tank top, which turned completely see-through once soaked. Carlito openly admired my body, and I let him. His gaze didn’t make me feel violated or intruded upon, which is how I often felt when a guy was checking me out. In this moment, I was feeling more beautiful and sure of myself than I had in a long time, so I let myself relish in it.

The second “wet surprise” was a little more of a challenge. Once we arrived at the final waterfall, I noticed that there was no wooden platform or rope system rigged up.

“How are we getting down this one?” I asked Carlito. At almost two hundred feet, it was the tallest waterfall of all.

He took my hand in his and grinned. As he walked me closer to the edge and I realized what the answer was, my heart started pounding against my sternum. I pulled back, taking my hand away.

“No, I can’t,” I said. My mouth had gone dry. “I’m scared of heights.”

“But you went down the other waterfalls with no problem.”

“Because I was hooked up to ropes handled by four strong guys. Throwing yourself off a waterfall completely unattached is a little different.”

Carlito came back to me and took both my hands in his. “Different in a good way, amiga. Isn’t that one of the reasons you chose to come to a place like my country? To see and try something different?”

His words struck a chord with me. He was right. Why bother traveling this far if I was going to insist on staying inside my comfort zone? Douglas had once teased me about not being adventurous enough when I’d refused to try sea urchin at a sushi restaurant. Maybe it was time to push my own limits. See what I was made of.

“Okay,” I said.

“We will go together,” he suggested. “Are you ready?”

“Shouldn’t we stand closer to the edge?”

He shook his head. “We will run and jump off. It is better this way. If you look down first, your fear will get the best of you.”

Knowing he was right again, I nodded my head and gripped his hand. He counted to three in Spanish. We took off running.

Five strides later we were airborne. As we flew through the air, I heard Carlito cry out something that sounded like “pooda veeda!” The biggest rush I’d ever felt filled me from head to toe as we descended. It felt as though we were in the air for a long time before hitting the water. By the time I surfaced, I was filled with pure joy.

As Carlito and I walked the trail leading back to the base, I was still on a buzz. I asked him what he had yelled when we jumped off the waterfall.

“Pura vida. It is a famous Cost Rican saying—meaning
pure
life
. It is what all Costa Ricans live by.”

“I like that,” I said. “I think I could definitely use more of that in my life.”

He smiled. “You are not the only American I’ve met who says the same thing. Your people need to learn to…let loose your mane.”

I was confused for a moment before I figured out what he meant. “You mean let our hair down?”

He laughed. “Boring girls have hair. You, chica, have wild mane.”

Before I could determine whether this was a compliment or not, Carlito started asking me questions about myself: where I was from, how long I was staying in the country, and what I liked to do for fun.

When he asked whether I had a boyfriend, my face fell. Why did he have to bring that up? I was having such a nice time not thinking about Douglas.

“No, I don’t have a boyfriend,” I said with a stiff lip.

“Bueno. Not good to come to this country if you have a boyfriend back home.” He jumped down a large rock and turned around to help me.

“And why’s that?” I took his outstretched hand and hopped down, landing next to him. I started to walk on, but he held onto my hand and pulled me back.

Our wet bodies pressed lightly together. Our eyes met.

He half-smiled and said in a low voice, “Because Costa Rica is a place where people fall in love.”

“How does my cleavage look?” Dez asked as we walked to the Lava Lounge later that evening. According to Roberto, it was a popular hangout for the locals and tourists alike in La Fortuna.

After our canyoneering tour, Carlito and Estevan had asked us to meet them there for drinks. Dez enthusiastically RSVP’ed for us both, even though I was hesitant about it. When I talked to Dez about it later, I had told her I felt it was too soon for me to go out on a date. The sooner you get back on the horse again, the better, she’d said resolutely. I could hardly argue, especially since I knew if I stayed behind, I’d just spend the entire night pining over Douglas and crying myself to sleep in our villa.

I glanced at my friend’s breasts, which were blooming out of her low-cut sequin tank top like over-filled water balloons. She was trying out her new Victoria’s Secret push-up bra. It was one of the new line of bras called Miracle. The only miracle this bra could possibly perform on Dez was if it somehow managed to keep its seams together while supporting her front.

“You cleavage looks like it could stow away both our wallets without a problem.”

“Good.” She took it as a compliment. Then, she glanced my way and frowned. “You should’ve worn the mini skirt I brought,” she looked at my pretty, but casual summer dress disapprovingly. “That dress is more of a daytime outfit, not a—“

“Not a wanna-get-laid outfit?”

Dez put her hands on her hips. “What’s with you? You’ve been a sulking puss all afternoon. I thought you had fun on the tour. You and Carlito seemed to really hit it off. He definitely has the hots for
you
, anyway.”