Chapter 11 Two Soggy Situations #2
I looked away while he lowered the kayak into the water.
He waved off the guide and set the front half into the water.
He instructed me how to get in, and any sexy feelings that might have remained from eye-fucking Cole dissipated as I awkwardly sat on the plastic seat, then tucked my legs in.
I’d just figured out how to hold the paddle when I felt the kayak glide into the river.
The little boat swayed. He was right that I’d never been kayaking in my life. Like I had time for recreation. The back, where Cole was, sat low in the water, and my end lifted a bit above the water. Still, the sides were high enough to keep us dry.
The guide had a single-person kayak, and he gave us all a few minutes of paddling instructions.
I liked that, as the person in front, I got to set the speed.
Though I got plenty of coaching from my backseat driver.
We couldn’t be anywhere near the other pairs of kayakers because, according to Cole, they were all inexperienced menaces.
Soon, we were coasting along the river, well to the side of the main group.
Our guide led us down the river, pointing out howler monkeys and toucans in the treetops, and even a colony of nectar bats dozing against a tree trunk. But Cole was impatient at the guide’s leisurely pace, and with his powerful strokes, soon we outstripped the rest of the group.
“Look,” he said, pointing to the right where there was a small offshoot of the main river. “I think that’s a sloth in that tree.”
“Where?” I scanned the canopy.
“Let’s get a little closer.” He paddled farther along the split, then he stopped to point overhead into a broad-leafed tree. “See it up there? It’s a ball of brown fur.”
“Where?” It was all green, umbrella-shaped leaves.
“See the main trunk? Count up one…two…three…four forks from the bottom, then follow that branch off to the right. It’s after the first fork off that, in the notch.”
I gasped. “I see a ball of something!”
“That’s it. Give it a minute,” he said.
I kept my gaze on the thing that could’ve been a coconut or a small termite nest. But then it moved, and a black head poked up. “I see it! I see it!”
“That’s great. Stop jiggling the boat.”
“Here, if we row a little farther to the right, we can see it better.”
“Hold on, Captain Ahab—”
“Hand me your phone. We need a picture.” I whirled to face him, and the boat shifted and tilted. “Whoa!” I leaned hard to the left to compensate, but he’d done the same, and the next thing I knew, I had a face full of water as I was submerged in the river.
Fortunately, my vest did its job. I kicked a few times, and in a moment, my head broke the surface. Though it hit the side of the overturned kayak first. “Ow!”
“Are you okay?” Cole’s urgent voice came from the other side of the kayak.
“I think so. I’m in the water though. Did the guide say if there were snakes in the river?”
“There’s definitely snakes in the river. But don’t panic.”
I grabbed the side of the overturned boat, trying to drag myself out of the snake-infested water, but the sides were slick. Probably with snake venom. “Don’t panic? With snakes? That’s like telling me not to breathe!”
“Listen to my voice. I’m telling you what to do.” He sounded too calm for this situation. Was he in shock? “Can you swim?”
“Yes. I’m an excellent swimmer,” I huffed.
“Let go of the side and back up a few feet. Still okay?”
I treaded water, glancing to the side for snakes. Or crocodiles. If that one had devoured my passport, how much tastier would he find my kicking feet? “Ish.”
He flipped the kayak upright. Somehow, he’d captured both paddles and wedged them under the bungee at the front. He gripped the side of the kayak and held out a hand to me. “Come here.”
I paddled closer until I could clasp his hand. He gripped it as if I were drowning, and I winced.
“Here,” he said. “I’m going to hold the kayak. Reach across it until you can touch the far handle with your left hand. Hold the handle on this side with your right hand, then pull yourself up and over onto your belly. Got it?”
“Yeah.” I reached for the far side, but my arm was too short to reach the handle. I dropped back into the water.
“I’ll give you a push. On three. One…two…three.”
I kicked and stretched while a large hand clasped my ass and shoved, and finally, I grasped the handle on the far side with my torso hanging across the kayak like a suspension bridge. “Now what?”
“Lever up with your arms and pull in your legs. Do you need me to push again?”
“You call that a push?” Now that I was mostly safe from snakes, giddy accomplishment bubbled in my chest. “That was a full-on ass-grab. I’m definitely telling Stan.”
“Tell Stan. I don’t give a fuck as long as you don’t drown.”
“Aw.” As instructed, I levered and tucked, and one awkward flop later, I was back in the kayak. “Watch out, or I’ll think you care. Need a hand?”
There was a splash and a stomach-lurching tip, then his weight settled into the back of the boat. “Nah, I got it. You okay?”
I twisted to face him, more slowly than I’d done before we tipped. He was as wet as I was, and his shirt stuck to his upper arms. I’d never noticed before how impressive his shoulders were. It was like two slabs of marble up there. I wasn’t cold, but I shivered. “I’m fine. You?”
“I’m great. Perfect. Soaked through again.”
“It is the rainy season,” I said.
“Bridget.” His eyebrows lowered. “This isn’t rain. And it’s your fault.”
“Look, I’m sorry. But you’re the one who picked me. You could’ve left Gina and me to get drenched and stayed dry yourself.”
He harrumphed.
I tilted my head to listen: birdsong, the faint roar of a howler monkey, frogs chirping, but no guide’s voice. “Do you know which way to the rest of the group?”
He scanned the river around us. I’d gotten turned around underwater, and all of it looked the same: dense jungle as far as I could see.
“Let’s paddle that way.” He pointed to the right.
We paddled a few hundred yards, but it was more of the same, empty, tree-lined water.
“Gina!” I shouted. “Marco!”
“Who the fuck is Marco?” Cole asked.
“Our guide.”
“No, our guide is Manuel.”
“Is not.”
“He absolutely is.”
“I hired him,” I said smugly. “I should know.”
“You probably picked up one of those brain-eating amoebas in the water. It’s Manuel.”
“Whatever. I know Gina will answer me if I call her. Gina!”
Only the screech of a hawk answered us.
After a few more minutes of fruitless calling and paddling, I asked, “Are we lost?”
I heard the clench of his jaw when he said, “I’m afraid so.”
“Time to whip out those Eagle Scout survival skills,” I said. “Bear Grylls always said to stop and think when you get lost.”
“Bear Grylls wasn’t a Millennial.” I heard a rustle, then, “Hello.”
“I’m right here,” I muttered, turning to glare at him.
He’d gotten out his phone and spoke into it. “This is Cole Campion. I got separated from the Apex group. Can you direct me to the pickup point?”
Oh. I wrinkled my nose. So he did have a solution to our problem. Damn his level-headedness. Oops, I meant, I’m so glad he kept his head in a crisis. I wasn’t jealous at all.
After a few minutes, he thanked the other person and slipped his phone into its plastic pouch.
“That’s how your phone’s still working after our swim,” I said. Even if I’d still had my phone, I hadn’t thought to buy it a pouch. It would’ve been as soaked and useless as the rest of me.
“Eagle Scout,” he reminded me. He tapped the screen through the plastic, stared at it, then looked up. “That way.”
“I can’t believe it. A man asking for directions.”
“You do want to rejoin the retreat, right?”
“Of course.”
“Then paddle. That way.” He pointed to the left.
As soon as I picked up my paddle, it was like someone had opened a tap. Cool rain poured down on us, beating onto my head and my exposed skin. All around us was a white curtain of rain, making tiny craters in the water’s surface.
“How are we going to follow the directions when we can’t see anything?” I shouted through the roar of the rain.
“They sent me a pin. We should be able to find them even if we can’t see well. Angle left a little.”
We kept going through the deluge. After a few minutes, I shouted back, “Cole?”
“Yeah.” He grunted as he paddled.
“Not that I don’t trust you, but I’m a little scared.”
“We’ll be okay. If we run into trouble, they’ll come looking for us.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“I don’t think you want to know.”
“Tell me.”
He waited two strokes of our paddles. “Well, we’ve already discussed snakes.
There are also jaguars and crocodiles. They’re unlikely to attack someone my size, but if something happens to me, you might look like prey.
Or, this rainstorm could turn into a lightning storm, and we really don’t want to be in the water for that.
Finally, although rare, mosquitoes and other insects can carry malaria, dengue fever, or yellow fever.
I don’t suppose you had any vaccinations before you came? ”
I paddled faster. “Shit.”
“We’ll be fine.”
“Will we?”
“What are you afraid of, Bridget, really?”
While I debated how to answer him, I kept paddling. Finally, I said in a low voice that wouldn’t carry over the pounding rain, “Of everyone finding out how much of a fraud I am.”
“You’re a frog?” he shouted back.
“No.” I turned and spoke over my shoulder. “A worthless fraud.”
“What? You’re not a fraud either.”
“Aren’t I? I just pretend I know what I’m doing. Like with kayaking.”
“Oh. The kayaking. You don’t mean at work.”
“There too.”
“No, Bridget.” He put his hand over mine on the paddle to stop me from rowing. “You have the kind of experience I envy. Everyone admires you. You’re no fraud.”
“Do they? Admire me?” If they truly did, I’d be in the CEO’s office, alone. Not lost in the jungle. “Sometimes I feel that if I let up the tiniest bit, it’ll all come crashing down.”
I stared at his big hand still covering mine. Rain splattered onto the back of it.
Like he’d just realized he was touching me, he snatched his hand back. “You don’t need to keep up the superhero act. People know you’re human. They respect it when you reveal your flaws.”
I snorted and dipped the paddle into the water. “No, they don’t. They only want to see perfection.”
He said nothing, and I knew I’d won the argument. Though it felt a hell of a lot like losing.