12 Hours In Paradise (7 page)

“Cinderella’s slipper,” he said when he slipped the flip-flop over my heavily bandaged foot. “It’s past midnight, Cinderella.”

“I know.” I ignored the implication behind his words—
Shouldn’t you get back to your hotel?
“Question number ten. ‘If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?’”

He sat on the bench beside me and took the paper out of my hands. “Anything about the way I was raised,” he said. “That’s easy.”

I was surprised at how quickly his answer came to him, because for me it would take a little thought.

“My parents were too focused on me,” he said. “But not focused enough.”

“How does that make sense?”

“Too focused, because when they were with me, they obsessed over me. Every little thing I did or said was analyzed and discussed ad infinitum.”

“Ad infi-what?” I asked and then wished I hadn’t revealed my ignorance.

“Too much,” he said. “Way too much. But because much of the time we weren’t actually together, they weren’t focused on me enough.”

“Oh, that’s sad.”

“But it’s really not sad, is it? It’s just the way it was. And you?”

I bit my bottom lip and rolled my eyes upward.

“I like it when you do that,” he said.

“Do what?”

“Bite your bottom lip like that. Why do you do that?”

“I’m just thinking.”

“And biting helps you think? Is it as helpful as dangling?”

I ignored the question and went on.

“I’d have to say that if I could change anything…” I paused, suddenly feeling
disloyal by complaining about my parents to someone who was really just a stranger after all.

Arash picked up on my uncertainty.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to tell anyone what you say to me. It’s just between the two of us, and I’m revealing as much as you are.”

“Well, before Chester was born, I had a normal childhood. I had my parents all to myself and they just let me be a normal, happy kid. Low expectations, you know? But when I was six years old, Chester was born, and all of a sudden I had to be this…mini adult. It was like, ‘You’re the oldest. You should know better. Set a good example for Chester. Can you watch Chester for a minute? Blah, blah, blah.’”

“Blah, blah, blah. Yes, I know what you mean. My parents said that to me a lot too.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing. I actually think that ‘blah, blah, blah’ perfectly sums up the feeling I have when I think back to much of what was said to me.”

I narrowed my eyes and stared at him for a few seconds, trying to decide if he was for real. He didn’t look away, but he didn’t say anything, either. And then I knew he was.

“I meant it,” he went on. “You cut right to the core of what I was trying to say. And you did it so efficiently.”

I glanced away in sudden shyness but then allowed my gaze to drift back toward him. He was waiting for me.

“I like you,” he said. His voice was just north of a whisper. “I like talking to you.”

“Me too,” I squeaked. I looked down and saw my feet swinging back and forth like a nervous little girl.

I stood to test my bandaged foot, and it felt much better. I was good to walk again.

“Do you know there are only two more questions until we finish the first set?” I asked.

“And then what?”

“I dunno. Set number two.”

“Let’s walk back toward your hotel while we finish the two questions. Then at least we’ll have achieved some sort of milestone.”

“Let’s go back along the beach. I want to show you the pool at the next hotel.”

“I’ve seen them all from the beach.”

“It’s not as good as the first one, but there’s a cool light show at night. I went there with my family for dinner.”

***

The pool deck was nearly deserted, and the light show was long since over. But a transparent sphere on the side of the pool attracted us. It was about five feet tall, and on the inside we could see a young woman in black shorts and a white, long-sleeved shirt, trapped like a fairy princess inside a snow globe.

“What the heck?”

“Should we save her?” Arash asked.

The snow-globe princess stepped off the side of the pool, taking herself and the giant bubble into the water. It sparkled like a crystal marble. Underwater lights lit her from below. A Hawaiian love song unfolded in the background. I couldn’t look away.

She walked slowly but deliberately inside her bubble prison like a hamster in an exercise ball. Once she reached the middle, she dropped to her hands and knees. A faint splash. A glittering ripple. She extended her arms behind her and arched her back, bringing herself into a handstand. Every move was precise. Flowing. Graceful. We watched the bubble ballet in silence. Maybe this was a performance she shared with thousands during the day. Maybe this was her rehearsal time—a time when most people were tucked away in hotel suites, tending to their sunburns and the sand between their toes. And yet, there we were. Me and Arash. Our private show. A secret performance for two in a city of nearly half a million people.

“She’s beautiful,” I said. “I wish I could do that.”

“She reminds me of you.”

“In what way?”

She looked nothing like me, and I had none of the skills to do what she did.

“Strong but fragile. I sense that about you. It’s tantalizing.”

“Tantalizing, huh?”

“Look, do you see the man on the other side?” I peered through the darkness and noticed a guy sitting in the shadows on the opposite side of the pool. I hadn’t seen him before. “He’s holding a rope that’s attached to the bubble. He’s her anchor.”

I wondered why I hadn’t seen the rope before. Maybe I hadn’t wanted to see it. So we weren’t alone after all.

“Probably so he can pull her in if it starts to leak,” I said.

“Everyone needs an anchor.”

We watched the bubble-ballet performance until the music stopped and the man pulled gently on the rope to bring her back to the side of the pool. I thought about the anchor and how Arash said everyone needed one.

“I think we need to sit for this next question,” he said. “Are you ready?”

I nodded yes.

“‘Take four minutes and tell your partner your life story in as much detail as possible.’”

“Four minutes? That’s a long time. These questions must be written for adults, because I don’t think I can fill up four minutes of nonstop talking about my life.”

Arash didn’t say a word. He just stared at me blankly.

“That’s pretty pathetic, huh? What I just said.” I felt like a loser.

“Tell me,” he said. “Do you think there’s a magic age when you have a life worth talking about? Is it eighteen…twenty-one…thirty…forty? No. It’s right now.”

“But I can’t even make my own decisions yet. Not legally anyway. Even you admitted we’re sort of prisoners to the adults in our lives until we’re eighteen.”

“You made the decision to come out with me tonight. Every day when you wake up you make a decision as to how you’ll face your day. What your mood will be. What you’ll have for breakfast.”

“Do you really believe that people can decide what their mood will be?”

“I believe you can decide what it
won’t
be. You can decide whether to give in to a bad mood, or you can allow yourself to get swept away by a good one.”

“But four minutes, Arash. Really?”

“Okay, take two minutes, then. After all, we’re not too old, so maybe you’re right and we don’t require as much time.”

We sat on two chairs near the side of the pool. The bubble lady emerged from her magical orb, and Arash and I applauded. She looked over at us and smiled.

“Thank you,” she mouthed silently.

***

“I was born a little over sixteen years ago, but you already know that. Ummm…I was born in Michigan where my dad was doing his residency after medical school, but we moved to Reno when I was two. And then I grew up in Reno and I live there still, and I came to Hawaii for a vacation and met you.”

I looked over at him triumphantly, but he just gave me another blank stare and glanced down at his watch.

“You have another minute and thirty-five seconds to go.”

“I honestly have a boring life. I don’t have anything exciting to tell.”

“Everything about your life would interest me. Try harder.”

“Okay. Okay. My name is Dorothy Patmont, and my dad is from Pennsylvania and my mom is from Ohio.”

“I want to hear about you, Dorothy. Not your mom and dad. Or even Chester.”

“Okay. Let me start again. When I was three years old, an alligator lizard bit me on the finger and wouldn’t let go. I shook my hand and screamed, and finally it came flying off and my finger was bleeding like crazy.” I looked over at Arash, and he nodded, encouraging me to go on.

“I’ve had the same three best friends since preschool, although sometimes we argue, and once I didn’t speak to two of them for a whole month.” I looked up at him again, and he smiled reassuringly as if to say,
This is fascinating stuff
,
which I knew it wasn’t.

“My favorite subject in school is math, and my favorite thing to do is ride my horse by myself far away from everyone and everything. I have a dog and two cats, and I live in Nevada but I hate to ski.”

Arash leaned back in his chair with his hands folded in his lap. He regarded me with great interest and an adorable half smile. I wanted to say something that would make him like me even more, but it seemed as though he liked me just fine. I went on. At that point I was just babbling about anything that entered my mind because I didn’t want him to stop looking at me the way he was.

“I’ve had a lot of accidents and a total of a hundred and thirty-four stitches. Eighty when I ran through a sliding glass door when I was ten, which I didn’t see because my mom had just washed it.” I pointed to the scar just below my knee, and he leaned forward for a better look.

“Another fifty when I fell off my horse and split open my thigh, and luckily not my head, on a sharp rock.” I shyly pulled up the side of my dress, and this time Arash really took his time inspecting the jagged scar, which made me blush.

“And four right here above my eyebrow when I was eight and the boy next door threw a rock at me, which fortunately missed my eye. You can’t really see it anymore.”

He reached forward and brushed my eyebrow lightly with his fingertips.

“How long have I been talking?”

“I don’t know. I was swept up and lost all track of time. Please go on.”

“No, I really think it’s been at least four minutes, so…your turn.”

Why was it so hard for me to talk about myself in front of others? I was raised to be modest and not boastful, so that might have had a little to do with it. But here was a situation where I had permission to talk about only myself without anyone’s judgment. And Arash was a very nonjudgmental guy. I had to admit it felt good and I got caught up in it once I started. I loved the attention.
His
attention. I could get used to it.

“My turn.” He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows against the tops of his thighs. “My name is Arash Atkinson, and I was born in Paris, France.”

His cell phone chirped, and he pulled it from his pocket and smiled at the lit screen. His thumb glided back and forth a few times before he returned it to his pocket.

“Who was that?”

“My roommates again.”

“Is everything okay? Nobody noticed you’re gone?”

“Everything’s fine, but they’re…”

“They’re what?”

“Not too bright. They left our room and met up with some others, and twenty people piled into an elevator, which got stuck between floors because it was overloaded.”

“Oh my God! My worst nightmare. Are they all right?”

“They’re fine.”

“I don’t even want to think about getting stuck in an elevator. Go on with your story, please.”

“Because my father was an American diplomat, we moved around a lot. I enjoyed it and, in fact, thrived on new living situations and new friends every few years. I seem to have an ability to adapt quickly. But when I was twelve years old, my parents decided I’d be better served by staying in one school without having to be constantly uprooted. They felt I’d get a much better education at a boarding school, and I agreed, so we settled on a school in Switzerland with an excellent reputation and an international student body.”

“So you left home to go to boarding school at twelve? That’s so sad. I can’t imagine Chester leaving home in two years.”

“On the contrary, I didn’t find it sad at all. In fact, I loved it. I made the best friends of my life and I learned to speak German and French. I already spoke Persian and English, so there are my four languages. I got to ski with my friends and hike, and we challenged each other intellectually. I studied music. It was an exciting time for me.”