bus.
“What was all that about?” she asked.
“Mr. Urbino took a cab to the airport,” I answered. “I don’t know why.”
“My, aren’t you nosy? Maybe he was going to meet a friend. Or pick up a package. Does he need to give you a reason?”
Even more embarrassed, I shook my head. “I know. It isn’t any of my business what Mr. Urbino does.”
“Or other Cuban baseball players,” Glory said. She held out a hand so I could give her a boost up the first step onto the bus.
I didn’t agree that Ricky’s welfare wasn’t any of my business. I believed in his freedom, and I was standing up for what I believed in. Wasn’t that what Mom and Glory wanted of me?
As I followed her onto the bus, I tried to keep my mind on the day’s trip ahead. Ricky might not like being cooped up, but he would be safe. The captain was tough. The chief of security was tough. And I’d see Ricky that night, after we set sail.
Along with most of the members of our tour group, Neil and Julieta had already gotten on the bus by the time Glory and I climbed aboard. Julieta, perched in the window side of a double seat, snuggled closer to Neil and wiggled her fingers at me.
Neil, who was again covered by a brightly colored long-sleeved shirt and his straw hat with the wide, drooping brim, immediately slid across the cracked brown vinyl and jumped to his feet. Although there were plenty of available seats on the bus, including the two across the aisle, Neil graciously offered his seat to Glory.
Beaming at him, she accepted, but before she could sit down, Julieta scooted from the seat and plopped into the one across the aisle. “I’ll sit with Rosie,” she said.
Tucked in by the window, I glanced around Julieta, who was animatedly talking across the aisle to Neil. I wanted to giggle at the look on my grandmother’s face.
Julieta one, Glory zero,
I thought.
In a way I was glad that Julieta had been so skillful in deciding where each of us would sit. The bus carried us a short distance, past flowering shrubs and ferns interspersed with tall mahogany-and-blue trees our driver called mahoes. I took a few photographs through the windows. But soon my thoughts returned to the short, quiet time Ricky and I had had on the darkened deck the evening before.
The skin on my upper arms prickled, as if it still felt the grip of Ricky’s fingers, and for an instant it was hard to breathe. I had never felt this way about a boy. For the first time I understood how Rose Calvert could believe with all her heart that Jack Dawson was her true love. Rose Calvert and Jack. Would it be Rose Marstead and Ricky?
But Rose and Jack’s love had ended in a terrible tragedy. I shivered.
Julieta swiveled to look at me, raising one eyebrow. “You okay?” she asked.
I nodded. “I guess someone must have walked across my grave.”
“Your grave? Weird,” Julieta said.
“That’s an old expression people use when someone shivers,” I tried to explain, but Julieta had already turned her attention back to Neil.
The bus parked close to the rush of water that ran from the falls into the sea. Edged by thick, lush greenery, the river splashed and foamed over smoothed limestone rocks dotted with tourists. Clinging, grunting, squealing, they gripped each other in human chains led by guides who scrambled upward.
I turned away from the window. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked Glory.
Glory made a face but began to take off her shoes. “How can I possibly say I visited Dunn’s River Falls but didn’t climb them?” she answered.
“Stubborn,” I mumbled.
But Glory smiled and said, “Stubbornness runs in the family.”
I hurried to remove the T-shirt and shorts I’d put on over my bathing suit and followed Glory off the bus to join our own chain of climbers.
Here and there on the six-hundred-foot climb the going was difficult. Once a powerful gush of water undercut my footing on the slippery rocks, knocking me off balance, but Neil tugged
“What was all that about?” she asked.
“Mr. Urbino took a cab to the airport,” I answered. “I don’t know why.”
“My, aren’t you nosy? Maybe he was going to meet a friend. Or pick up a package. Does he need to give you a reason?”
Even more embarrassed, I shook my head. “I know. It isn’t any of my business what Mr. Urbino does.”
“Or other Cuban baseball players,” Glory said. She held out a hand so I could give her a boost up the first step onto the bus.
I didn’t agree that Ricky’s welfare wasn’t any of my business. I believed in his freedom, and I was standing up for what I believed in. Wasn’t that what Mom and Glory wanted of me?
As I followed her onto the bus, I tried to keep my mind on the day’s trip ahead. Ricky might not like being cooped up, but he would be safe. The captain was tough. The chief of security was tough. And I’d see Ricky that night, after we set sail.
Along with most of the members of our tour group, Neil and Julieta had already gotten on the bus by the time Glory and I climbed aboard. Julieta, perched in the window side of a double seat, snuggled closer to Neil and wiggled her fingers at me.
Neil, who was again covered by a brightly colored long-sleeved shirt and his straw hat with the wide, drooping brim, immediately slid across the cracked brown vinyl and jumped to his feet. Although there were plenty of available seats on the bus, including the two across the aisle, Neil graciously offered his seat to Glory.
Beaming at him, she accepted, but before she could sit down, Julieta scooted from the seat and plopped into the one across the aisle. “I’ll sit with Rosie,” she said.
Tucked in by the window, I glanced around Julieta, who was animatedly talking across the aisle to Neil. I wanted to giggle at the look on my grandmother’s face.
Julieta one, Glory zero,
I thought.
In a way I was glad that Julieta had been so skillful in deciding where each of us would sit. The bus carried us a short distance, past flowering shrubs and ferns interspersed with tall mahogany-and-blue trees our driver called mahoes. I took a few photographs through the windows. But soon my thoughts returned to the short, quiet time Ricky and I had had on the darkened deck the evening before.
The skin on my upper arms prickled, as if it still felt the grip of Ricky’s fingers, and for an instant it was hard to breathe. I had never felt this way about a boy. For the first time I understood how Rose Calvert could believe with all her heart that Jack Dawson was her true love. Rose Calvert and Jack. Would it be Rose Marstead and Ricky?
But Rose and Jack’s love had ended in a terrible tragedy. I shivered.
Julieta swiveled to look at me, raising one eyebrow. “You okay?” she asked.
I nodded. “I guess someone must have walked across my grave.”
“Your grave? Weird,” Julieta said.
“That’s an old expression people use when someone shivers,” I tried to explain, but Julieta had already turned her attention back to Neil.
The bus parked close to the rush of water that ran from the falls into the sea. Edged by thick, lush greenery, the river splashed and foamed over smoothed limestone rocks dotted with tourists. Clinging, grunting, squealing, they gripped each other in human chains led by guides who scrambled upward.
I turned away from the window. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked Glory.
Glory made a face but began to take off her shoes. “How can I possibly say I visited Dunn’s River Falls but didn’t climb them?” she answered.
“Stubborn,” I mumbled.
But Glory smiled and said, “Stubbornness runs in the family.”
I hurried to remove the T-shirt and shorts I’d put on over my bathing suit and followed Glory off the bus to join our own chain of climbers.
Here and there on the six-hundred-foot climb the going was difficult. Once a powerful gush of water undercut my footing on the slippery rocks, knocking me off balance, but Neil tugged
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