Cozumel

“Gabe… Gabe, c’mere,” Austin motioned to the bartender, who smiled. He cleaned and replaced the martini glass where the rest of them were stacked.

“Austin,” he smiled back. “Feels like you’re here more than I am.”

Behind them, the purples, oranges, and magentas of the Cozumel sunset painted the sky overlooking the beautiful cerulean beach. The shine of the white sand reflected the serene colors and made the whole scene look like a child’s fantasy. The beach bar was lit primarily with torches and the blue light from the many TV screens, with half the bar covered by a thatched roof while the seating area stayed open to the beauty of the Caribbean. Still early in the evening, the bar was starting to fill with tourists wanting to end the evening on a high note.

“Where else would I be?” Austin replied, “I know your schedule and I know how you pour.”

“And I know how you tip,” Gabe smiled, “Keep that up and I’ll keep pouring.”

“Deal,” he tapped two knuckles on the bartop, and Gabe placed a glass in front of him and emptied more than his fair share of white rum into it.

“What’s the talent like tonight?” Austin looked around at the large number of women sitting around the tables and at the bar.

“Spring breakers will start piling in next week, but you have some college girls from a few schools,” Gabe talked while he continued to clean glasses, “but there’ve been a few single ladies, some divorcees, here and there.”

“What about Flowers over there?” Austin motioned to an ageless beauty in a blue flowered sundress, an elegant brunette spinning a stirrer in her martini glass while eyeing the other people in the bar.

“Oh,” Gabe chuckled for a beat, “No. No chance.”

“You doubt my skills?” Austin laughed.

“I have my doubts, yes,” he smiled wryly.

“Is she new? How have I missed her?”

Gabe leaned in close, “She’s been in every day this week; leaves a little before you get here. This is a late night for her. She people-watches, slowly sips on drinks that other men buy for her, and she rejects every advance that comes her way. She’s left alone every night.”

“Well, send her a double of whatever she’s been sipping on,” Austin straightened the wrinkles on his knit shirt.

“No,” Gabe smiled, ignoring him, “You’re a predator and she tips better than you.”

“Just do it… you wouldn’t shoot down a regular, would you?”

“Whatever. Rejection number one comes early for you tonight.” Gabe prepared a negroni and walked it over to her. She made eye contact with him, smiled an insincere look of shock that a pretty lady would receive a free drink. Gabe pointed at Austin, who had just finished scrubbing his teeth with his finger. He smiled; she smiled back. She whispered something to Gabe, who slowly turned his head to Austin with a look of exasperated shock. He nodded his head sideways and motioned his hands to the seat next to her. Austin grabbed his drink and walked over to her, his eyes never leaving Gabe’s awed expression. Gabe broke eye contact first, laughing as he walked away.

“What was that about?” she asked, coyly grinning.

“He was convinced I had no shot.”

“Shot at what?” her eyebrow raised slightly.

“At enjoying your pleasant company,” he gently sat down in the chair next to her and offered his hand politely, “Austin.”

“Sarah,” she shook his hand, “and thank you for the drink.”

“Thank you for the company,” his eyes locked on hers. This was an easy task, as her eyes were vast and deep, giant emerald saucers sitting on a petite, soft-featured face. Her brown hair curled around her brow and neck, and her lips danced sensually with every word. Her head always tilted slightly down, so her eyes had to widen and look up to meet his, and her lips had to extend seductively for every syllable to be heard. Up close, it was clear to see that she was older than the rest of the collegiate clientele at the bar, but she was still young and vivacious enough to pull any man in this bar. Austin knew this was a prize worth pulling in, “Where are you from, Sarah?”

“America. Northeast, New England area. You?”

“Texas.”

“Austin?”

“Yeah. Parents didn’t put a lot of thought into that name.”

She laughed and looked down, “So are you gonna hit me with a line about ‘everything being bigger down in Texas’?”

“Well, not anymore, I’m not,” he faked a hurt expression, “but you’re gonna have to give me a second to think of a new line. What brings you to paradise?”

She sipped the negroni, “I don’t know. Just trying to figure myself out, I guess.”

“You come in through the cruise line?”

“Nope. Flew into Cancun last week. Took the ferry over here. Staying at one of the resorts.”

“Who’d you travel with?”

“Do I need someone to travel with?”

“Absolutely not,” he played it softly, “Just not used to seeing beautiful women traveling alone.”

“I’m not alone now, am I?”

“Not if you don’t want to be,” Austin rubbed his hand softly along the hem of her flowered dress.

The evening crept on and, eventually, the two made their way to a booth against the side wall. They talked about their interests, mostly hers, and they kept Gabe busy at the bar, Austin more so than Sarah. After talking about herself for far longer than she was comfortable, she wanted to know more about him.

“About half the year, I run a snorkeling expedition off a beach down by Puerto Maya. I have a boat and a couple of dependable locals that run with me. We take fifteen, twenty tourists, drive them out to the good parts of the reef, let them swim and explore for a bit. I’ll swim out and show them the good spots. Half of them just like being on a boat. The other half are happy they didn’t hop on the fifty or sixty passenger tours. They like that personal touch. And I charge about the same as the big tours, but you get that smaller group size that people crave. Run about eight to ten groups a day; It brings in good money, and I do it swimming and living in paradise.” He sipped on his drink and took in his own words with a touch of pride.

“That sounds amazing,” she said, spinning her drink with a stirrer, “Clearly I made some wrong decisions in my life.”

“Well, you still haven’t told me what you do.”

“I’m… between things at the moment. I used to be an investment banker. Gave that up a while back. Now I’m just enjoying the time in-between,” her mood shifted. She broke eye contact with him for the first time.

There was a moment to let that breathe, “What made you give up the life? I see designer dress, designer handbag, hat… clearly, the life was good for you.”

“Very good,” she straightened up and collected herself, and the smile returned, “Got married. Got pregnant. Did the stay-at-home Mom thing for a while.”

Austin looked at the ring finger on her left hand and noticed a white halo of soft skin surrounded by years of minor sun damage. “I take it that life ended pretty recently?” He placed his hand on hers and rubbed it soothingly.

“Oh, yeah. Very. How’d you know?”

“I’m a local in paradise!” he smirked gently, “You’re not the first woman who came running to the Caribbean after a bad break-up.”

“You said you run the boat half the year. What about the other half?”

He sat up, straightening the kink in his back, “Not much money outside of peak tourism season.”

“So what do you do?”

“I travel, mostly. Sometimes even paradise gets old. I go back to the States, to Europe. Pick up contracts to make side money.”

“Contracts?”

“Whatever work I can find. The hustle never stops, but just the change is different. My guys run the business during the slow seasons. And I see the world.”

“My God,” she laughed, ironically, “you make my life sound so vanilla.”

“You’re here now; at least you’re trying to spice things up.”

“That’s the goal,” she slid her hand up and down his forearms.

He looked into her gigantic green eyes and she stared through him, gently nibbling on her bottom lip. With the amount of drinks in his system, the courage wasn’t hard to find, “What resort are you staying at? Can I help you find your way there?”

“No,” she said immediately. He deflated, but she grabbed his arm again, “I’ve been there all week. I need a change in scenery. Take me to your place.”

“My place?”

“You’re a local, right? I’ve spent the last three days on the eastern end of the island, away from the tourists and the public beaches. I wanted to get a feel of the local culture. Now I want to get a feel of one of the locals.”

He spit out a bit of his drink and started laughing. She smiled, proud of her own directness, “That was good. That was a good line,” he choked on his drink and laughter.

“Better than the ‘Texas’ line?”

“Much better,” he motioned to Gabe that he was heading out, and Gabe saluted him victoriously as the couple held hands and walked out onto the beach.

Night was upon them, and even though they had left behind the lights of the bar, the sporadic street lamps and the glow of the moon out on the ocean water was more than enough to guide them through the romantic streets of the shopping district. Though the streets weren’t empty, there were just enough people walking around them to feel safe. Austin and Sarah chatted softly as they walked the uneven blocks, Austin assuring Sarah that his place was just around the bend. Finally, they came to a dimly-lit corner where Austin reached into his pockets and fumbled for his keys.

“This is… quaint,” she grimaced at the peeling paint and the shattered glass and litter surrounding the walk down into a basement-level apartment.

“It’s spacious, convenient, and it’s actually pretty clean on the inside,” Austin defended.

“No judgment,” she giggled.

The door opened up and, as advertised, the apartment was spacious, comfortable, and eloquent. Not the bachelor standard she’d expected, “So this is where that big snorkeling money goes, huh?”

“I thought you said ‘no judgment’, or are you not the woman you suggested you were?”

“Are we ever?” she smiled and rubbed her hand along the afghan stretched across the back of a beautiful, plush couch. She flopped herself down.

“I have even more comfortable blankets on the bed in the next room…”

“No, sir, I have expectations. Drinks. Bring us some.”

He smirked and sneered, then submitted and disappeared into the kitchen area. He called out over the island bar, “So, why Cozumel? You said you flew into Cancun; why not stay there?”

“I came to Cozumel to pray before the Mayan Moon Goddess ix Chel,” she said directly.

Austin froze. He raised his head from behind the kitchen island to look her in the eyes, seeing red flags everywhere, “Come again…?”

“You don’t know anything about ix Chel, and you claim to be a local?”

“Well, I’m not indigenous to the island. I’m a dropout from Texas,” he joked as he walked back around to the couch. He handed her a small glass of something that looked fruity.

“For hundreds of years, women would come to this island, kind of a pilgrimage, if you will, hoping for the blessing of ix Chel, who was a fertility goddess, and a number of women would soon be pregnant.”

“So you want to get pregnant?”

“Eventually, that’s the goal.”

“You’re not looking for ME to help you out with this, are you?”

She laughed reassuringly, “No, God no. No offense. No, this is me just wanting to have a little fun.”

“So why the desire to get pregnant?” he immediately regretted the question; deep questions might kill the mood.

“Well, I didn’t tell you why me and my husband separated. We lost our child.”

“Lost?”

“Died. That’s a blow to marriage that is really hard to get over. You spend all your time and energy on this baby, and then the baby dies, and you can’t even look at each other any more.” She tried to maintain the smile, but the words hurt too much and the emotion crept through.

“I’m so sorry.”

Sarah wiped a tear from her eye and set her drink down next to his. He put his hand on her shoulder. She laughed uncomfortably as she wiped her eyes, “I’m really killing this ‘setting the mood’ thing, aren’t I?”

“It’s all good. It’s difficult to really kill the mood for dudes,” he reassured her.

“That’s nice. You can tell I’m not really good at all this. This is my first… whatever this is… since my husband.”

“I figured. Gabe said you’d been shooting down advances all week.”

She smiled softly, looking down at the table, “Yeah, I think I was just looking for someone specific.”

“I’m oddly complimented,” he said. He felt a rigidity in his neck stiffen up and he rolled his shoulders to work out the kink. “Look, from what I’m told, marriage is hard as Hell to begin with. Dealing with tragedy has gotta make it a hundred times harder. I can only imagine.”

“Yeah,” she said. She reached for another quick sip of her drink and placed it back down again.

“I think what you’re doing right now, this, this is really admirable,” he laid it on thick, “Concentrating on you, doing what relaxes you, taking your mind off the bad. That’s what a good vacation is all about, right? Let all the negativity out, do what makes you happy, and once all the anxiety is gone, go back to the States stronger than you were before.”

Another quick sip, and she handed him his.

He drank, and then, against every other instinct he had, he felt the need to ask, “So why the pregnancy thing? Why get pregnant when you’re in the middle of a divorce?”

“Oh, I didn’t say ‘divorce.’ I plan on going back to him eventually, probably soon. I just have to get out of this funk I’m in. Spread my wings a bit. And when I do go back, I only have a few good years of childbirth potential left, and all I want is to have a child. She won’t replace my baby girl, no. But I need something like that in my life.”

The sincerity of the moment was making Austin uncomfortable. He kept taking sips of his drink to get through the discomfort of her words, and he noticed that his hand was shaking, moving about the ice in his glass. He stretched out his hands, then both hands, and while they would move, they were stiff and shifted only through great amounts of effort and pain.

“I’m glad I have the chance to talk this out, to be honest,” she said, taking another sip of her drink, “It’s been a wild, what, nine months? Wow, nine whole months.”

A feeling inside Austin that had been noticeably growing stronger and stronger was the tightness in his body and limbs, something that he had written off as soreness from a busy week out on the boat. Now, he slowly found it harder and harder to take a full breath, that his torso hurt from the strain, that he could only move his arms through sheer force of will.

“Nine months ago, my 8-year-old daughter (you see, me and Bill got pregnant pretty much on our honeymoon, God help us), Madison was her name; we called her Maddie. We had taken her to a music festival in Austin (you know the area). Beautiful, big, a cultural city that is booming right now. She let go of my hand for, maybe, thirty seconds or so before I turned around to check on her, and she wasn’t there.”

“You were in Texas?” Austin asked, though his speech was starting to slur and spit began to creep out of the corners of his lips.

“Yeah. You see, I’m from New England, but I met Bill in college at Mississippi. I was trying anything I could to get away from that snow. And we eventually moved to Austin for Bill’s job, and he kind of blew up down there. Built a start-up, built it up from scratch. He’s a pretty big deal down there. I’m sorry: UP there. Forgot where I was.”

“Did you put something in my drink?” Austin managed to ask, barely coherent, and he dropped the remainder of his drink in his lap.

“All evening, yes,” she explained, “Frankly, I wasn’t sure when the stuff was going to kick in, and I bought enough to paralyze an elephant, so… Anyways, back to what I was saying.”

Austin used the bulk of his remaining strength to drop himself down to the floor. There was no plan, simply to get as far away from her as he could. But once he cleared the coffee table, sheer force of will was not enough to move his arms and legs; he had just enough strength to roll onto his side to look at her.

“Madison was taken from us. A day later, we got a call, blocked number, voice scrambler, asking for five million dollars. Bill put up a fight, saying he didn’t want to negotiate with criminals. He wanted to call the police, but I didn’t. We had the money, and it was my baby girl. I begged him to follow the instructions.”

“I… I…I…” and Austin couldn’t get much more out, as he could feel himself slowly swallowing his tongue.

“We paid, and Maddie never came back to us. A day after the drop, the same scrambled voice came back and demanded another five million. Bill called the cops, and after a lot of worthless strategizing, we lost contact with the kidnappers. Maddie’s body showed up a week later a hundred miles south of Austin, east of San Antonio.”

She walked to where Austin’s body lay on his side. She pushed him and he rolled to his back, sputtering from his lips. She placed a finger on the side of his neck. “She had been tranquilized, probably the whole time she’d been there, and when we didn’t show for the second drop, her throat was slit from here,” she ran her finger across his throat, “to here.”

Austin tried with everything he could to say something, but all his efforts were taken up simply trying to inhale.

“Bill has a lot of contacts and resources, but we never could find anyone who would fess up to stealing and killing our little girl. But we did find something; it was a lead that Bill thought was nothing but I followed up on it. You see, there was some talk from some unscrupulous fellas connected to Bill saying something about a kidnapping gone bad. Something about a guy taking a contract to ransom some rich couple’s child, trying to double-up the ransom, and ended up running with what he had.”

She stood and stared over him, “Not smart.”

“So the likelihood of identifying the people that paid for my daughter to be kidnapped isn’t very likely, but the dumbass that actually did the kidnapping? The murdering? The double-crossing his clients and running off with the ransom money? I figured that moron probably left a paper-trail in some way. I just had to follow it. And I did.”

She walked slowly around the room, eyeing places to hide things, when she found an old steamer trunk against a wall below the window. There was a lamp on it, and a small padlock on the hinge. She grabbed Austin’s keys off the kitchen island and flipped through, trying to find just the right one, “If it makes you feel any better, the people you stole from were hot on your trail, too. One more week and they’d have figured you out.”

She removed the lamp and unlocked the trunk. Inside were papers, scattered, two loaded pistols, various pieces of equipment, and stacks upon stacks of cash. “So one piece of evidence led to another, and it all told me that some idiotic wannabe hitman spent most of his year in Cozumel. It was safe to assume he probably didn’t have enough common sense to lock all of his incriminating evidence in a safe, for God’s sake.” She unsheathed the knife from the steamer trunk.

“I’ll take the money back, not because I care, but just to make this look like a robbery. And I’ll burn the evidence, too. They don’t need to know what you did,” she stopped and looked into his eyes. “I came here for two reasons, Austin. Sincerely, I wanted to pray to ix Chel, or really any god that would listen, to help me rebuild the family I lost.”

“And the second: I knew that in order for me to move on, I needed that man that took my baby to feel everything she felt.”

She spread her legs across his waist and bent down over him. She placed the sharp end of the blade over the right side of his jugular and pressed with just a little pressure. Without the ability to move, the look in his widened eyes spoke all the words he couldn’t.

“So Austin,” she leaned in close, “what god do you pray to in paradise?”

As the sun rose on the eastern edge of Cozumel, the magentas and oranges and purples bled into a perfectly blue and beautiful cerulean sky. Sarah admired it as she watched the island disappear further and further away. She snuggled comfortably into the padded bench of the ferry carting her back to Cancun. She felt the breeze buffeting against the side of her face, and for the first time in nine months, she felt a peace that only an island vacation can bring.