Wet: Part 2 (19 page)

“No! Rhees! Please don’t. I’ll stop,” he begged. “I’m stopping. See? I’m climbing back into the car.” He did, and he raised his hands to show surrender. “Get down from there. Please?”

She looked down, and back up at the car ahead again.

“Please don’t let her jump,” Paul called to the other people in her car, and more of them grabbed her, trying to talk her out of it. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out before climbing back inside.

“Are we on some kind of hidden camera show or something?” someone in the car asked. Rhees’ body trembled violently. She covered her face with her hands and broke into sobs.

Her gondola finally reached the disembarking station. The attendant opened the door, and Rhees nearly bowled him over when she jumped out. She made a dash for the first zip line platform, running and passing people on the narrow trail. She could hear them grumbling about her cutting in line, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t ready to face Paul and couldn’t afford to give him the chance to catch up. 

She reached the first station and ran to the front of the line despite the complaints from the other patrons. The station attendants concentrated so hard on making sure the riders were hooked up properly and thankfully didn’t notice. She watched as they hooked up the man they were working on and sent him on his way.

The attendants gestured for her to step up. Still shaky, she hesitated, wanting to turn back, but the idea of meeting Paul on the trail at the moment sounded worse than what she was about to do. She almost laughed. Jumping off from the safety of the station to careen along miles of metal cable—tiny little cables—at a hundred miles an hour sounded better than facing him.

She thought about it some more. She’d be suspended two hundred feet above the ground, in the middle of the rain forest, by nothing but a harness and a couple of metal clips—yep, still better than facing Paul.

She stepped up and numbly watched as the attendants connected her to the line.  She screamed bloody murder, a reflex she couldn’t help, when they pushed her off the platform and she dropped.

oOo

Paul ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck while he waited for his car to stop. A long and colorful stream of cuss words flowed from his mouth by the time the attendant finally opened the door and he jumped from the gondola. He sprinted along the trail, trying to catch Rhees, but he stopped cold when he recognized her scream, sending chills down his spine. He’d watched her run from the gondola, knowing she ran from him, and it wrenched his heart. The words of her note flashed through his mind, again. “I’m going home. I’m done.”

He hunched forward and rested his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath—he felt out of breath, helpless and weak. He didn’t know what to do, how to fix it. Memories from his past blasted his head. The memory of the last time he’d tried to fix it, but failed—the events that made him need to run away. He wasn’t supposed to let himself feel for anyone again. It’d all sneaked up on him. He mindlessly pulled his phone from his pocket and punched a few buttons.

“Claire,” he whispered. His voice failed him. Silence hung between them for several seconds.

“Paul?” Claire finally responded, warily. “What’s wrong?” She couldn’t manage more than a whisper either. Paul would never call her from Testosterfest unless something was very wrong.

“It’s Rhees.” He broke. It came out a bleak sob.

“Oh my God,” Claire wailed. “What happened? Not Rhees! Tell me she’s all right?” Claire imagined all sorts of horrible accidents Rhees could have been involved in.

“She’s leaving me. She’s going home—back to Utah. She said she’s done—I knew she’d get tired of me. She’s leaving.” He choked the words out and moaned miserably. Silence strangled the line again. “Claire! Help me. I don’t know what to do.”

“What did you do to her?” It came out accusing and harsh.

“I don’t know!” he snapped. It took him a second to continue. “You know me . . . I told her she couldn’t do the zip line . . . you know her, too. It didn’t go over so hot.”

“That’s it?” Claire was confused. It didn’t sound as critical as she’d originally thought. Not bad enough to send Rhees back to Utah.

“She said she’s done. She’s going home.” He almost sobbed again. “I don’t want her to leave.”

Claire didn’t speak again for a moment, shocked to be having this discussion with Paul, of all people. “None of this makes sense. She told me the island was her home now. She said she never wants to go back to Utah. Did she actually say Utah?”

Paul shoved his hand through his hair. He knew that. He dared to feel a little hope. “You think she meant the shop?” He almost laughed as relief set in.

“Paul!” Claire yelled over the phone, so loud he had to move the receiver from his ear. “You do not want to screw this up. This
thing
you two have going.”

“I
know
.” It came out exasperated.

“I mean it. Whatever you did this time—you’d better fix it.”

His breath caught at how Claire used the same words that had run through his mind only seconds before, what he wanted, but didn’t know how to do.

“Fix it,” he mumbled.

“In the beginning, the night you two kicked off this farce, I was so angry, thought she was an idiot, that I’d misjudged her brain power, you know, for getting mixed up with you. But when you came to our apartment the next day, I saw something—I’ve been seeing it since. She’s even smarter than I ever imagined. Rhees is . . . the first girl who’s ever been smart enough to get under your skin. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

He didn’t answer.

“Paul, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you. I hope you realize that. I think you do, or you wouldn’t have called me. If you let her get away . . .” Claire paused for an uncomfortable amount of time. When she spoke again, she sounded like she actually cared, something he’d never heard directed at him. “I could tell you were trying to pick up the pieces of your life when you showed up on the island. You were still missing some, and you had a few pieces in the wrong places, but I’ve seen it getting better since Rhees has been around. I’m not sure I could handle watching you fall apart again.” Another stretch of silence. “You don’t want to let her get away.”

“It might not be my choice. It may be too late.” His voice came out low and hoarse. He cleared his throat.

Claire laughed. “Am I not talking to Paul? Mr.
I-Get-Everything-I-Want
?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, Claire. She really is too smart to put up with me.”

“I’m going to tell you something. Don’t you dare tell her that I told you. I would never betray her trust under normal circumstances, but this is an emer—Oh God, I can’t believe I’m doing this. Rhees told me that when you use your magic,
hypnotic
eyes—for the record, those are
her
words—there are times she thinks that if you would hold out a little longer—if you didn’t take pity on her and let her go from your spell, she wouldn’t . . . be a virgin anymore.” Claire waited for his response.

It took him a second, but he laughed. “You
do
understand she probably means that literally.” He laughed again at the thought of Rhees. “It wouldn’t surprise me to discover she believes I really could take that from her with
just my
eyes
.”

“Yes, I understand that.” They both laughed for at least a whole minute.

“She’s like, from a different planet.”

“I know, Paul, but the two of you—”

“To be honest,” he interrupted, “the reason I look away—she’s the one with magic eyes. When I try using my eye
powers
, she gazes right back. It scares the hell out of me. It’s like she can see right into my soul, and—” He paused, surprised at his confession. “I’ll lose her if she sees too much.”  

“She doesn’t see things the way we do.” Claire sounded motherly and serious again. “Rhees has a real problem with her eyesight. What you think she’s going to see—the side of you that you think is ugly—Paul . . . she only sees butterflies and rainbows. She’s helped you find some of those missing pieces and get a few of those wrong ones back into the right places. Now go get her. Apologize. Flash those magic eyes. Change her mind. You
will
change her mind! Do you hear me?” Claire sounded so confident in his abilities.

“She’s not tired of you. She’s just . . . making a point. Remember her stupid, stubborn objectives. What point is she trying to make? Think Paul. Think!”

Paul squeezed his eyes shut. “I have to go. I need to catch her before she reaches the bottom.” He paused, thoughtfully. “I still don’t know how it’s going to work out, but I’m glad she has you. Thank you, Claire.”

“Paul, I’d do anything for her, but she doesn’t need me. She has you.”

oOo

Paul caught his first glimpse of Rhees when he landed at the fifth station, one station ahead of him. He suddenly felt nervous. He’d been so preoccupied with catching up to her—he didn’t have a chance to think about what he would do when he did.

It hadn’t been easy to gain on her. The zip line was strung from one tiny platform, built high in the treetops, to another. You left one, landed on another, and waited your turn with your harness tethered to the lifeline designed to save you from falling to your death if you lost your balance or got knocked off by the other patrons crammed onto the platform. The footings were so narrow, there wasn’t much room to maneuver around the other people in line, but Paul had managed so far, in spite of the attendants’ harsh reprimands.

As usual, he found it easy to convince the women to let him shimmy around them, but the men were a different story. Fortunately, there were more women on the line that day than he’d noticed in previous years. He used the truth, his most brilliant smile, his eye power, and an occasional wink as he divulged his sob story over and over until he’d finally worked his way to within one station from Rhees.

“I simply forgot, for a moment, to treat my girl the way she deserves to be treated. I have to catch her—I don’t know what I’ll do—
I’ll die
if she won’t take me back.” 

They were eager to help a man in the name of romance, at least a man who looked like Paul, even in the face of danger, knowing he could knock them all off the platform. Maneuvering tightly, he had to unclip himself from the safety line and re-clip it on the other side of each person after sliding by. The closeness made it necessary to make intimate body contact and some of the older women took advantage of the situation by
helping
him—holding his body to theirs as he slipped past on the narrow planks. He grinned, playing the good sport. “Girlfriend,” he would say. “Remember?”

There were a few men who weren’t so eager to let him pass, but even most of the men were with women who nagged their husbands or boyfriends to let him by.

The seventh station landed on the hillside instead of another tree platform. A narrow trail to the next station required a half-mile hike. He landed, helped the attendants unhook him so he could be free faster, and took off.

Rhees walked slowly just ahead, her head down, but he didn’t call after her. The last thing he wanted was for her to run again. He quietly loped until he could maneuver around her, and stand to block her path.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, wrapping his hands around her arms to have a grip, in case she tried to get away.

She stopped just before running into his solid chest and tossed her head back as if asking why the heavens were against her.

“No.” She sighed. “I’m the one who’s sorry. You have to believe me. I never intended to ruin your vacation with your friends.” She stopped talking and they both positioned their bodies on the path to let people on the trail pass. They winked at Paul and patted him on the back. When they were by, she continued. “I didn’t know the zip company would ruin everything. I purposely picked a different time slot than you when I booked this last night. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid.”

“Don’t be too hard on him, Sweetie,” an older woman said as she walked by. Rhees gave Paul the bug-eyed look, bewildered by the way every woman on the line seemed to be so invested in him. She shook her head, remembering how, back on the island, he used to get this kind of female attention everywhere he went. The other girls, most of them, eventually began to understand he truly wasn’t interested anymore. They finally stopped acting so obnoxiously flirtatious, at least while she was in his company.

“If it weren’t for the driver’s big mouth, you wouldn’t be angry with me. I could have come, checked this off my list, and made it back to the beach house before you ever knew. I would be happy, and you would be blissfully ignorant.”

Paul stood stunned, his plan to smooth things over derailed by the new revelation. “That’s your defense?” He returned the bug eye back to her. “Do you sneak around behind my back
often
?” His voice went up a few octaves, infuriated.

“No—and I don’t need a fucking defense!” She folded her arms and they glared at each other. Her choice of words surprised him, and then she surprised him again when she didn’t stop there. “You don’t control me. I know you’re protective—and most of the time, I appreciate that you care, but you don’t
own
me—I don’t
have
to
obey
you.
If
. . .”

She pinched her lips together and paused while another group of girls passed. Paul and Rhees overheard the girls commenting how Rhees wasn’t pretty enough to be with a man who looked like Paul. Rhees looked away, staring at nothing in particular. She exhaled loudly.

Paul glanced down, irritated at how annoying all the interruptions were. His own lips narrowed, and when he looked up at her again, he didn’t raise his head, emphasizing how unhappy he was with her at the moment.

Once the girls were by, she resumed, “If it looks like I’m obeying you, it’s because I
want
to. Do you hear me? Not because I have to. It’s
my
choice
. I’m a big girl. You. Are. Not. My. Da . . . d.” The last word caught in her throat. She glanced down and threw her hand over her mouth. Tears filled her eyes. She closed them quickly but it only squeezed the tears out and they rolled down her face.

“
Oh my God
!” she whispered. Her breathing became unsteady as she looked around, desperately searching for a place to run. Paul’s anger visibly fell from his face, replaced instantly with alarm.

“Aw shit!”
He didn’t know why she’d switched so suddenly from fierce temper tantrum to,
the world is falling apart
, but he immediately picked her up. “Let’s get off the trail.”

She didn’t stop sobbing and barely noticed how he carried her down the slope to a level spot twenty feet off the public path. He leaned against a tree with her still in his arms and tried to soothe her.

“What’s wrong, Baby?” He braced his leg against the tree to help hold her while he brushed the hair away from her face, but his question made her wail even louder and wriggle for him to put her down. He tightened his grip and refused to release her. She used both hands to cover her face, and he realized she felt the need to escape.