Aquamarine, Day 3
The line on the horizon exhibited a white sandy stripe and the fluttering of palm trees against the cloudless sky. The Aquamarine moored by a coral reef, and a boat transported the passengers to land. Swimsuits, bright shirts and summer dresses soon formed a patchwork quilt on the sand, just like the aroma of seafood, fried appetizers and piña coladas sewed a patchwork quilt in the air. The beach received the visitors with a battalion of blue chairs, a rustic restaurant, food and beverage kiosks, souvenir stores, water sports rental equipment and a stage where a technical staff worked on the preparations for the afternoon attractions.
Marisa and Marco assessed the surroundings, took photographs and devoted themselves to snorkeling. In the next half hour, they were lost to the world amid the schools of fish that came, went and swirled around like colorful kites in the wind. As they stepped out the water, they stumbled across Robert and Eliana sunbathing and joined them. Later they grabbed refreshments at the same kiosk where Jean-Philippe and Zoe were buying food. The group was complete. The six friends lolled on chaises lounges at the sound of a reggae band and, tiring from the crowd, decided to explore the island.
They advanced along the beach and after a short walk elected a desert spot for a stop. Beach bags were dropped under the trees and towels spread on the sand. To the sea they marched one by one, impelled by the coruscating heat. Forming a circle in the water, the group played a truth or dare game.
Marco asked Marisa: "Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
"What would you do if you could be a man for a day?"
"That's easy. I'd piss upright and write my name in the sand."
Marisa then inquired to Robert: "Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
"What was the strangest thing you had in your mouth?" she probed mischievously.
"Baked tarantula. A Cambodian specialty."
After the group had expressed their repugnance with appropriate grimaces, Robert turned to Jean-Philippe: "Truth or dare?"
"Dare."
"Make a verse rhyming with the name of the next person."
"Oh, you got me..." He reflected. "One day I met a certain Chloe. She was pretty but couldn't rival Zoe."
He was applauded. As the claps ceased, Jean-Philippe asked Zoe: "Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
"How was your most embarrassing first date?"
"Which one? I'm a master of disaster. Once I was in a posh restaurant and the guy told a joke right when I was drinking, I spat red wine all over his white shirt."
More applause. Zoe moved on to Eliana.
"Truth or dare?"
"Dare."
"Make the next player smile."
Eliana thought for a moment and addressed Marco.
"You know that time in San Francisco when you had the flu and I made you eat a homemade concoction? It was Campbell's soup."
When he smiled, Eliana reciprocated the smile and continued the game asking Marco: "Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
"What was the biggest lie you've ever told?"
He hesitated.
"It wasn't me who broke the urn with the ashes of my aunt's cat," Marco answered at last, making the others laugh.
The round was complete and each of them had thus exposed their eccentricities and little secrets. They resumed the game in the reverse direction.
Marco inquired to Eliana: "Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
"Who would you take to a desert island?"
"Hmmm..." Eliana was about to say something and changed her mind. "John Steinbeck."
Her gaze persisted on Marco for an instant before moving on to Zoe: "Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
"What was the craziest thing you've ever done?"
"Censored or not?"
Cen-sooored! was the collective reply. Zoe shook her head with a naughty expression.
"On second thought, better not. Here goes my craziest PG-13 deed..." She waited for the protests to quiet. "When I was thirteen I went to school in my nightgown to win a bet."
Rebuffing the general insinuations, Zoe clarified the nightgown was not transparent and poked Jean-Philippe.
"Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
"If you were to do something questionable, Jean, what it would be?"
"I'd put a tape recorder in the ladies' room to learn what women say about men."
Marco and Robert agreed and cracked up, whereas the women gave their tsk-tsk. Jean-Philippe didn't waste time and asked Robert:
"Truth or dare?"
"Dare."
"Massage the foot of the next person."
"Here?"
"Right here, my friend."
The next person was Marisa and Robert dove without a word, seemingly crossed. She leaned on Marco and, uneasy, stretched one leg toward Robert. His hands reached her in a cold current near the bottom with an unexpectedly smooth touch. In the dream it hadn't been like that when she lay naked and Robert lunged at her body. Now his hands enveloped her ankle and landed softly on the top of the foot, sliding to its sole and, one by one, the toes. Above the water surface, Marisa laughed with the others. But the oddity of that contact elicited in her a secret tremor.
It lasted a couple of minutes. Having reemerged, Robert inquired straight away to Marisa: "Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
"What was your weirdest dream?"
She almost chocked, her amused smile dying on her lips. Marisa glanced at Marco and looked back at Robert.
"I dreamed... dreamed I was a butterfly dreaming it was me."
"Very clever," Robert spoke with feigned severity. "If I'm not mistaken, that's from a text by philosopher Chuang Tzu."
And it was left at that.
Marisa turned quickly to Marco
"Truth or dare?"
"Dare."
She welcomed his reply. She needed to gain time for recollecting herself—it wasn't the sun that made her cheeks burn.
"Give a bear hug to the first person passing in front of that tall palm tree."
The group turned to the beach and stared in the direction Marisa indicated. There was the tree with its green leaves proudly hovering above the others. Then all the attentions focused on the curve of the beach, which a big man covered in tattoos had just turned.
Five pairs of eyes fixed on Marco.
"Are you gonna do it or you quit?" Marisa teased.
"Quit, me? Never."
They watched as Marco walked out the water and waited in front of the palm tree. When the tattooed man approached, Marco called him. The two talked, Marco gesticulating, the stranger shaking his head with an air of doubt, then nodding and un-nodding. Suddenly Marco was engulfed by the tattoos. They hugged. Mission accomplished, they waved goodbye and the man set off on his way.
Triumphally, Marco joined the group in the water.
"Impressive. How did you manage to persuade the guy?" Marisa asked.
"I used an infallible strategy."
"Which?"
"The truth." Marco added in good spirits: "To make things easier, I told him to pretend I was an old friend he hadn't seen in a long time."
"He was quite authentic," Eliana approved.
They made another round and idled on the sand. Gradually, the group disbanded. Robert went for a swim and Eliana sat in the shade. Marisa, Marco, Zoe and Jean-Philippe drifted away collecting shells. The four wound up in the forest and discovered a stunning waterfall many feet high framed by the sky, dark rocks and foliage. Zoe remembered the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe and, playfully, the two couples kissed under the waterfall. Marisa asked Marco to fetch the camera for registering the pose.
He left and never returned.
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Hmmm... what now, what now? While you muse about it, be angel and leave me a vote. :) xoxo