Chapter Three

Sammy was nearly out of breath. She swam frantically, upwards and towards the light.

She finally burst through the surface, rocketed from the water, and became slightly airborne. She felt wildly free and exhilarated.

“WhoooooHooooo!” She screamed in celebration.

She swam into the shallower waters of the lagoon. The waterfall was white and roaring, as if declaring its dominance and ownership of this unique place. Sammy respected its power and forcefulness.

She looked around for Markus, at first amused by his hiding and now concerned with his failure to reemerge from below. The writer in her began imagining the worst case scenario; that something terrible had happened to him.

Markus was her tour guide and her new special friend. She had discovered him working at “Off the Beaten Path” and hired him for the day. He promised her all the sights, sounds, and adventures that the Island offered and she was holding him to his word. She found him to be quite striking and more than a little captivating. She felt an immediate, and she was certain, a mutual attraction. They had tooled around in the topless jeep for hours visiting all of the touristy spots and after lunching at a small, beachside café, had ended up here, at Markus’s secret place; his own space, he told her, where he came when he needed to get away and restore his soul.

She stood up in the clear turquoise water. Her golden bikini top glistened in the sun and water dripped from her hair down onto her sun burned shoulders.

She looked at the sandy shoreline and her crumpled dress and sandals that lay tossed carelessly on the checkered blanket; next to them was Markus’s tee shirt and flip flops, an empty bottle of wine, and two plastic cups.

Sammy could feel the effects of the wine. She was unusually relaxed and felt pleasantly lazy. 

All of a sudden she was grabbed around her legs and pulled under the water! She panicked, freed herself, and resurfaced.

Explosively, Markus sprang from below, broke through the water, and gulped a mouthful of air. He laughed enthusiastically.

“OMG!” Sammy shouted and splashed him in the face.

He swam over and stood before her . . . closely.

She smiled up at him and tried to catch her breath. She looked at his unusual and mysterious face and his flawlessly bronzed skin. He pushed his long black hair from his forehead and gazed deeply into her eyes. She felt her shoulders drop and relax and her breathing steady itself.

Markus reached back and removed the gold band from her pony tail and ran his long, suntanned fingers through her hair and softly caressed her neck. She felt every fiber of her being respond to him.

“Ooooh . . . eeeem . . .geeee. . . ” she signed heavily.

He took her head in his hands and brought her face to his. She looked into his eyes, and then at his mouth, and then into his eyes again. He smiled. She put her fingers to his lips, closed her eyes, and put her mouth on his.

He kissed her tentatively at first; as if pondering something or lingering momentarily to absorb the moment. He pulled his lips away ever so slightly and then kissed her again. He pecked affectionately several more times and she relished in his tender sweetness.

Suddenly, as if something in him had been resolved or a dam had unexpectedly burst forth, Markus firmly pulled her closer to him and kissed her long and hard and deep. They embraced tightly in a hurried, frenzied moment of absolute and utter passion.

Sammy let him take her. She consciously stopped her thoughts, kept her eyes closed, and allowed her mind to drift. She visualized a black cloud of reservation and frustration rise up from within her and she watched it float off into the mist of the waterfall. She let her eyes roll dreamily back into her head and she inhaled his breath and the warmth of his mouth.

She was acutely aware of every one of her senses now. She felt the hot afternoon sun on her back and was enveloped by the thunderous symphony of the falls; she appreciated its wispy refreshing spray. She wiggled her toes in the soft, yielding sand and enjoyed the feel of the water lapping at her sides.

Markus put his hands on the small of her back and held her even tighter.

She touched his rope-like muscular arms and her fingers tangled in his wet dripping hair. Her hands pleasured in the smoothness of his chest as she slowly reached down to his rippled waist and around to his back. She grabbed his firm, round butt and felt his excitement pressed up against her. Her desire was powerful and purposeful, yet gloriously reckless.

He felt her full acceptance of him and her complete surrender to him.

Markus reached around and untied the top of her bikini. Sammy felt it loosen and slip from her body and into the water.

“I think that I am loving you, Sammy.” He murmured as he kissed her neck.

“Of course you are darling.” She whispered.

Lindy sighed, frustrated by her lack of inspiration. She had changed locations two times already. Again she picked up the heavy easel and headed towards the golf cart parked in the sand several feet away.

She was finding her novel idea of sketching near the ocean to be less than joyful and more than a little tedious. She now thought her idea silly and embarrassingly romantic. She felt no stimulation and was disappointed and deflated.

Again she loaded her supplies into the cart and began to slowly drive further down the beach. She rapidly accelerated and felt a rush of liberation! She drove as fast as the cart could go.

The golden beach lay empty and sprawled before her.

Her long hair blew loosely about and the sleeves of her yellow blouse flapped wildly in the wind like the sheets of a sailboat fluttering in the sea air. She laughed loudly and continuously as she raced down the sandy lane before her.

Eventually, Lindy slowed down and looked not at the ocean, but to her right, at the cliffs above her. There she discovered the perfect location. At first sight Lindy knew instantly what she wanted to do. Instead of standing on the beach and sketching the cliffs above her, she would drive up to the cliffs and sketch the beach below.

And so, she did. She was careful and slow as she drove up the steep, rocky, road that lead to the picturesque but precarious overhangs.

Upon arrival, Lindy felt optimistic for the first time that day.

She parked at the very edge of the cliff to avoid once again having to haul her things too far. She was amused at how well this unlikely vehicle had served her thus far today and by the amount of stuff she could squeeze into it. She unloaded her easel and other critical provisions for a proper day of comfortable creativity. She had all the necessary equipment for her art, of course, along with a thermos of coffee and a canvas bag containing a small baggy of chunky cheddar and a handful of red seedless grapes. It also contained a small notebook, some old rags, bug spray, and the sun screen that she would never get to use.

Lindy sketched for most of the day. The hours would have slipped away unnoticed had it not been for the change in light as the sun began to fade.

“This shading looks all wrong now” she said out loud.

Just then, from behind her, a shadow projected itself onto her easel. She simultaneously jumped and turned around.

“Oh! Oh man! You scared me! She screamed.

She was stunned to see the attractive foreign man who stood before her. He looked to be one hundred percent tall, dark, and handsome, and one hundred percent Italian; her favorite flavor.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, you just surprised me!” She said very loudly, as if raising her volume would assist him in comprehending her language.

He smiled a glistening, perfectly white smile and appeared very amused but said nothing.

“I was just up here sketching a little . . . I didn’t mean to scream . . . I was just . . . “, she stammered as she looked back at her easel and then turned around again towards him.

He continued to smile expansively at her but did not speak.

Lindy began to feel slightly uncomfortable and a little bit nervous. The thought flashed through her mind that no one knew where she had gone or when she would return.

“I didn’t file a flight plan” she thought, although Lindy had never planned for anything a single day in her life and would have scoffed at anyone who tried coercing her into a schedule.

She remembered the old man in the red shorts who had stalked her several years ago. He had showered her daily with flowers, notes, and various odd and somewhat disturbing gifts. It had taken Lindy a couple of restraining orders and several relocations to shed herself of him.

She felt that familiar uneasiness as her instincts flared. Her internal red flags waved wildly and the hair was standing up on the back of her neck.

She remembered back to the words of warning from her dear old friend.

“You know, Lindy, all of that precious freedom of yours comes at a price. You think you get all that for nothing? No missy, you pay up sooner or later; same with all that damn independence of yours; you think it is pure gold. But it doesn’t stand alone all brave and rebel-like. Nope, it sure doesn’t; brings along risk; all sorts of big risks.”

Suddenly Lindy felt a dread come over her. She felt threatened and rushed and she prayed that her fear wouldn’t show itself. She began to put her things into the cart but didn’t want to turn her back on him, so she stood at an awkward sideways angle. She felt desperate as she attempted a casual appearance but was unnatural and jerky in her movements. She continued to smile and just kept talking.

“I don’t mean to be rude or anything”, she mumbled and continued loading her things. “You really shouldn’t sneak up on a girl like that. I’m really late; didn’t realize how late it was . . . Do you believe how late it is already?” She rambled, practically screaming at him.

“They’re expecting me soon. They’ll surely come to see what’s keeping me . . . they’ll be here any minute now.” She stammered on.

The dark, handsome stranger took a few steps towards Lindy. She felt her adrenaline spike and her heart begin to pound.

Startled, she jumped and tumbled backwards onto the cart and it moved perilously close to the cliff’s edge.

“Hey, easy there tiger, I didn’t mean to scare you” he said reassuringly.

Lindy could feel her heart thumping madly, “You speak English? Why didn’t you tell me, why didn’t you say something?” She shrieked at him fearfully.

“Of course I do sweetheart. What, I’m straight off the boat from Sicily? Hey, I was born in New York City.” He said and laughed.

Lindy felt her fear depart and some butterflies arrive.

“He has a fantastic laugh”, she pondered, “and a great . . .

But before she could finish her thought, the golf cart moved again and now teetered on the overhang’s edge.

She reached out instinctively and grabbed onto it.

“Oh, crap!” She screamed.

Just then . . . it . . . and Lindy . . . plummeted from the cliff.

“Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!” She screamed. Her voice weakened and faded away.