can have dinner, tonight.”
She
ran her hand through his hair, in the same way she’d done the day before, when
instructed by her Russian “boss”. But
this time she looked upon Gage with warmth, the way a man enjoys being viewed,
making his chest swell to the point of separating cartilage.
After
another gulf in the conversation, Justina said, “I cannot thank you
enough. Yes, I’m still scared about what
I will do, and how I will get home, but I am like a bird freed from a
cage. It feels good, despite all the
questions I have inside.”
“Well,
relax,” Gage said in a reassuring tone. “I’ve got a little money to get by for a while. Let’s just enjoy our day.”
“I
don’t want your money. That’s not why I
asked you to help me.”
“I
know that,” Gage replied. “Again, just
for today, let’s not think about things.”
“But
you said you have a big decision to make today.”
“I
can set it aside until I have to leave. There are things about the decision that I don’t know yet.” He rolled over to face her. “A fun day. Deal?”
She
smiled at him. “Let’s go to the beach.”
“The
beach?”
“Yes.” Her face ignited with whimsy as she bounced
from the bed, clasping her hands in front of her. “Let’s do like all these rich people do and
go to the beach and eat lunch at a seaside café and sun ourselves and play in the
water and look at other people and admire the pretty ones and make faces at the
ones that should be wearing more clothes. I’ve come here for four years and have never
had a single day at the beach.” She
leaned forward, grasping him and shaking him as she sang, “Please! Please! Please! A day at the beach! A day
at the beach!”
Gage
couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’s
a date, yes?” she asked.
Who
could say no?
They
went downstairs together. Gage gave
Justina money to find swimsuits and towels. After paying for an extra night, just to have the benefit of the room
for the afternoon, he used the phone in an adjacent hotel to call Valentin on
the number Navarro had provided.
His
meeting at Navarro’s casita was set for six-thirty in the evening. Gage would meet Valentin at six.
And,
as it now seemed, he would arrive with a fresh suntan.
* * *
For
three hours on the sun-drenched beach, Gage Hartline was twenty years old
again. Crossing his mind, however, were
Justina’s former employers. He had no
appetite to run across a group of pissed-off, armed Russians, especially when
he was only equipped with swim trunks and sunblock. When he asked her if they would look for her,
Justina told him that the crowded beach was the best place for them to be. She was adamant that, despite her absence, everyone
involved with Eastern Bloc was either sleeping or preparing for their day. And the last place they would ever look for
their runaway Pole would be the main stretch of Lloret de Mar beach—if they even
looked at all.
Gage
and Justina chose a spot in the center of the action. The temperatures in late May were typically
mild and sometimes cool. But on this
day, like an unexpected gift, the temperature had soared to nearly 30 degrees
Celsius, mid-80s in Fahrenheit, bringing out oodles of tourists and a great
many locals.
The
beach was splashed with color from bathing suits, towels, coolers, toys, beach
balls, and rental equipment. A parasail
carried two shrieking tourists out every fifteen minutes, always drawing oohs
and ahs from the crowd upon launch, and the occasional sharp cries when the
tourists landed a tad hard in the sand.
Summer
had arrived.
Once
they’d had lunch, Justina took Gage by the hand and led him into the chilly water. They splashed and romped in the waves, with
Gage quickly determining his new friend was a competent swimmer.
“How
did you learn to swim so well?” he asked.
“We
grew up near a lake. The water was cold
but since we grew up
She
ran her hand through his hair, in the same way she’d done the day before, when
instructed by her Russian “boss”. But
this time she looked upon Gage with warmth, the way a man enjoys being viewed,
making his chest swell to the point of separating cartilage.
After
another gulf in the conversation, Justina said, “I cannot thank you
enough. Yes, I’m still scared about what
I will do, and how I will get home, but I am like a bird freed from a
cage. It feels good, despite all the
questions I have inside.”
“Well,
relax,” Gage said in a reassuring tone. “I’ve got a little money to get by for a while. Let’s just enjoy our day.”
“I
don’t want your money. That’s not why I
asked you to help me.”
“I
know that,” Gage replied. “Again, just
for today, let’s not think about things.”
“But
you said you have a big decision to make today.”
“I
can set it aside until I have to leave. There are things about the decision that I don’t know yet.” He rolled over to face her. “A fun day. Deal?”
She
smiled at him. “Let’s go to the beach.”
“The
beach?”
“Yes.” Her face ignited with whimsy as she bounced
from the bed, clasping her hands in front of her. “Let’s do like all these rich people do and
go to the beach and eat lunch at a seaside café and sun ourselves and play in the
water and look at other people and admire the pretty ones and make faces at the
ones that should be wearing more clothes. I’ve come here for four years and have never
had a single day at the beach.” She
leaned forward, grasping him and shaking him as she sang, “Please! Please! Please! A day at the beach! A day
at the beach!”
Gage
couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’s
a date, yes?” she asked.
Who
could say no?
They
went downstairs together. Gage gave
Justina money to find swimsuits and towels. After paying for an extra night, just to have the benefit of the room
for the afternoon, he used the phone in an adjacent hotel to call Valentin on
the number Navarro had provided.
His
meeting at Navarro’s casita was set for six-thirty in the evening. Gage would meet Valentin at six.
And,
as it now seemed, he would arrive with a fresh suntan.
* * *
For
three hours on the sun-drenched beach, Gage Hartline was twenty years old
again. Crossing his mind, however, were
Justina’s former employers. He had no
appetite to run across a group of pissed-off, armed Russians, especially when
he was only equipped with swim trunks and sunblock. When he asked her if they would look for her,
Justina told him that the crowded beach was the best place for them to be. She was adamant that, despite her absence, everyone
involved with Eastern Bloc was either sleeping or preparing for their day. And the last place they would ever look for
their runaway Pole would be the main stretch of Lloret de Mar beach—if they even
looked at all.
Gage
and Justina chose a spot in the center of the action. The temperatures in late May were typically
mild and sometimes cool. But on this
day, like an unexpected gift, the temperature had soared to nearly 30 degrees
Celsius, mid-80s in Fahrenheit, bringing out oodles of tourists and a great
many locals.
The
beach was splashed with color from bathing suits, towels, coolers, toys, beach
balls, and rental equipment. A parasail
carried two shrieking tourists out every fifteen minutes, always drawing oohs
and ahs from the crowd upon launch, and the occasional sharp cries when the
tourists landed a tad hard in the sand.
Summer
had arrived.
Once
they’d had lunch, Justina took Gage by the hand and led him into the chilly water. They splashed and romped in the waves, with
Gage quickly determining his new friend was a competent swimmer.
“How
did you learn to swim so well?” he asked.
“We
grew up near a lake. The water was cold
but since we grew up
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