– at least I love the western provinces of British Columbia, Alberta, the North West Territory, and the Yukon.
“Where in Canada are you from?”
“Vancouver, British Columbia.”
His answer peeked my interest even more.
“Canada is wonderful; at least what I’ve seen of it. I’ve taken ‘solitude’ trips through Alberta and farther north up to Yellow Knife.” I explained.
“Do you travel much?” I said as I was getting the hang of the personal question thing.
“More than most folks do.”
There was a quiet weariness to his voice and I tucked that observation away for another time.
“What made you choose this cruise? Why would you travel alone on a cruise like this?” I asked.
“I needed to get away by myself; it didn’t matter where.” His voice trailed off to a whisper.
“Oh.” I understood the need for alone time.
Silence took over again. It was comforting. We were wrapped in our own reverie as the quiet continued. Ten minutes of blank air can be intimidating for some folks but it didn’t bother either of us.
My arms were cold. The rain had actually stopped but a chilly wind could some how reach us behind our chair barricade. I focused my thoughts on how I could hold some of that chill at bay. What in the world could I use to protect us further? I explored the close surrounding area with my left hand and took a mental inventory: the cooler; the small table; the CD player; the wet beach towel. Moving the towel out of the way in order to continue feeling around, I touched another piece of fabric. I grabbed it and brought it to me for closer inspection. Another towel, I didn’t know I had two towels out there. I surveyed the entire towel with my fingers and discovered that there was only a very small part that was actually wet.
I then dragged the towel over my charge’s head, shoulders, arms and torso being careful not to touch him with the wet part. Then I tucked it in as much as I could.
“Nice.” He said as he pulled the towel tight into his body. He turned his whole body on his side and was now facing my stomach. He reached up with the edge of the towel and wrapped it over my right shoulder so that my hand and arm were tucked in with him. Yes that was nice.
With my hand on his chest, I shook him ever so lightly and reminded him not to fall asleep. As if to defy me, he drew his knees up to his chest so that the towel covered him completely and snuggled in closer to me. I was instantly glad for a smidgen more warmth.
A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky followed by another immediately, very scary in the thick all consuming darkness. The thunder hit like it was right on top of us. I tucked my head down and hugged the bundle in my lap as I felt him hug back fiercely. The sound was so loud I was worried that my ears could be damaged.
We remained in that tucked in hugging position until my arms were truly weary, I had to relax. Releasing my clutching hold on him felt like a small betrayal. He relaxed, too.
The lightning continued to streak and the thunder continued to howl and rumble with unbelievable sound and force. We clung to each other at each new assault. We seemed to be waiting for something final, a sound or an action that would take the ship and, of course, our tiny existence along with it.
As abruptly as it started, the noise and light show ended. The quiet didn’t fool us, we waited for more. We waited tensely for more than a dozen minutes before either one loosened our grip and relaxed out of our two person ball. Still not opening my eyes, I waited even longer.
As the time passed and the quiet continued, I opened my eyes to test the darkness. The blackness was not all together black; there were then shades of lighter black and even gray.
I’d lost all sense of time; I didn’t know how many hours had actually passed and didn’t know if the night was still with us or if it was morning with the storm clouds around us.
My high was gone and I needed to use the bathroom very soon or wish for more rain.
There were only shadows yet available and I couldn’t see clearly enough to make out the details of anything.
Waiting with my eyes closed was about all I could do. The need for sleep was tugging at my chronically dry eyes and I saw no reason to have them open if I couldn’t use them to see.
Slumber took me while I sat there with my back to the slider and that stranger huddled in my lap.
Day Two
I didn’t know how long I slept but my eyes flew open to the sound of a familiar “CLICK.” I looked down to see the stranger looking at me with a sweet smile. I marveled that we were both alive.
“Looks like there has been some progress; the slider just unlocked.” He reported like I hadn’t heard it.
I was stunned as I looked into his face, a familiar face, a famous face, a beautiful but tired looking face. It was Michael the Canadian singer who’s CD I had in the CD player earlier. I really wished I’d known that information hours before. Why didn’t I ask him his name?
“Oh, well I’ll be…”
He pulled himself to a sitting position. I felt the loss of his ultra close proximity egregiously.
“I know you from somewhere.” He said with a puzzled look on his face.
“We have met before. But I’d be surprised if you remembered.” I chided.
“I was one of thousands at your concert in Sacramento last year. We met because your van gave me a ride back to my hotel after the show was over. I was the only one standing in the parking lot waiting for my shuttle back to the Embassy Suites.”
He lifted my hand to his face and placed my fingers on his cheek and then looked at my hand like it brought back a flood of memories.
“I remember that night.” He said.
“Your hands struck me as special then as they do now. Your nails are pretty and your hands are soft.” He said it as though it was a memory and a realization at the same time.
The only contact we had on that previous night was a hand shake when I’d thanked him and said good night. I’d thanked him for the great concert and the unexpected ride and for the good time in general.
“After last night, I see there’s more to you than your pretty hands.”
We were still hunkered down behind our make-shift barricaded. I didn’t want to move because the call of nature was so loud it might just betray me before I could get to the bathroom.
We both stood up slowly. I saw him wince and touch the back of his head. I reached behind him to slide open my stateroom door, excused myself, and disappeared inside.
The Day After
In the bathroom, I slipped out of my damp clothes and stepped into the shower. After I was clean and dressed, I felt like a new person, a new hungry person. There was no sign of my sister. While waiting for her to return. I went back out to the balcony to dry my hair in the sunlight and to clean up after the storm.
It took only a few minutes to put the balcony into shape again. I sat at the small table and brushed my hair as I munched on the apple retrieved from inside.
As I was rooting around inside the small cooler, looking for more sustenance, Michael walked from his balcony to mine like he owned the place. He sat down in the chair next to me and watched as I pulled out the sunflower seed butter and the multigrain crackers.
I smeared the spread on a cracker and offered it to him. He took it with a smile and popped it into his mouth. I served myself up a cracker as well.
As we sat chewing, I noticed that he too had changed his clothes – he switched from the bright clothes to a pair of khaki shorts, a light colored tee shirt, and thongs; his wet hair was indicative of a