Chapter Five
‘So this is where we hang out in the evening.’ Dexter indicates the firepit I’d seen when we arrived. ‘The weather’s usually pleasant enough for us all to chat here after dinner. Our meals are in the canteen we were in yesterday.’ He hooks a thumb back the way we’ve come. ‘Sofia cooks for us as you know, but if you want to cook for yourself, there are facilities for that too.’ He pauses. ‘Victor uses them, occasionally, as he’s a chef-in-the making, but honestly, with Victor and Sofia’s cooking, you won’t need, or want, anything else.’
I absorb all this new information, and my mind wanders to what the dynamic will be like around the firepit. I envisage someone playing folk songs on guitar, as others sway to music on the dusty makeshift dance floor.
‘And here’s where we sleep.’
Warmth floods me at the idea that he is including me and him in that. We’ll probably be at opposite ends of the building, but the fact we’re under the same roof is enough to make my heart stutter.
I follow him into the low bungalow and discover there are almost as many flowers inside as out. Their scent hangs heavy in the air– it’s like a mix of honeysuckle and jasmine, with a hint of citrus, and my nostrils twitch in appreciation.
‘This is the men’s residence. There are five of us. I’ll introduce you to everyone after we check in on Flash.’ He hesitates for a second and I have a burning desire to stroke the soft stubble that graces his chin. I shake my head as if to dislodge that idea from my mind and he shoots me a quizzical glance. I wait, unable to think of any explanation. His eyes narrow and he smiles. It makes me wonder what he’s thinking. Does he think I want to meet all the men? Given my reaction he could well be thinking that. Yes, I’m keen to meet everyone, but I’m not interested in romance, despite feeling more than a frisson of attraction towards Dexter. My life is currently too complicated as it is, and I still have an awful lot to unravel back home.
As we cross the courtyard to an identical block, I bat this thought away.
‘And this is the women’s residence. You’ll be sharing this with Roisin, Ella, Mariangeles and Federica.’
This time he opens the door to the block, which takes us into a corridor with eight doors leading off of it, four on either side. It’s relatively spartan, but with a few nice touches: a vase of fresh flowers, whose name eludes me; a framed print of a beach– I’m hoping that’s nearby as it looks gorgeous; and a wooden map of Costa Rica showcasing the seven provinces. We’re in Puntarenas now. For a moment, I thought it was going to be just like going on a school Outward Bound trip, with us all bunking up in one dormitory, rows of bunk beds and absolutely no privacy. I breathe an audible sigh of relief, and Dexter laughs. ‘You thought you were going to be in for some boarding-school-type dorm, didn’t you?’
I grin. ‘You’re not exactly right, but you’re not far off the mark.’
We walk down the corridor and he explains there are five bedrooms, one rec room and two bathrooms.
‘Yours is the room at the end on the right.’ He passes me the key and I open the door to find a compact but sweet room, with yellow curtains covered in blue flowers. A wooden bed frame sits in the centre of the room which also houses a chair, a wardrobe with full-length mirror, a chest of drawers and a wash-hand basin. A bookcase made with some sort of hardwood with whorls in the grain stands off to the side. A glass vase filled with unusual-looking purple flowers sits on top. They’re both beautiful and a little scary, with purple spikes on the outside, an aubergine inner and a yellow-green centre.
‘Purple passionflower,’ Dexter says as I stare at them, my brow creased.
‘Really? They’re rather on the prickly side.’
Dexter grins. ‘A lot like some relationships.’
I relax at his easy banter and take in the room again. It’s utilitarian, but has a few homely touches, and it’ll do me just fine. I don’t need much, just some space to reassess my life a little, and sumptuous trappings have never been my thing anyway.
‘The bathrooms are right next door and across the hall on the left,’ Dexter informs me.
Good. I wasn’t exactly expecting an en suite, but neither had I thought that far ahead, and once again it strikes me how little consideration I’ve actually given to this major lifestyle change. But, hey, sometimes you need to throw caution to the wind, right?
‘Why don’t I give you a minute and I’ll meet you outside?’ His hundred-megawatt smile brightens the room further.
When he has gone, I stand in the middle of the room and imagine my few belongings that I have from home and how they’d fit in. I walk over to the bookcase and am delighted to see a few novels. Gabriel García Márquez and Isabel Allende are the only authors I recognise. Maybe I can use these books to help me with my Spanish, which it now looks like I’ll need to brush up on more than ever. And here was me thinking I only needed it for a two-week trip. Once again, I wonder if I’m ready for this culture shock.
I spin around, committing the room to memory, then close the door and peek into the bathrooms, which I’m pleased to note have both shower and bath.
A minute later, I’m outside in the fresh air again, and the scent of the unusual blend of flowers inside fades before the sweet smell of hibiscus hits me.
‘Suit your needs?’ Dexter asks.
I sigh. ‘Perfectly.’
‘Good. Now, let’s go see how little Flash is getting on.’ He holds his arm out, gesturing for me to walk ahead of him, and we return to the sanctuary through the rear door. As he puts the four-digit code in, he says, ‘Fourteen-oh-nine. You’ll need to remember that. You’re one of us now.’
‘Fourteen-oh-nine,’ I parrot back. ‘Is that a special day in Costa Rica’s history or something?’
‘Or something. It’s a special day for the sanctuary. Ferdinand’s birthday.’
Aw, how sweet is that? I love this place more and more by the minute.
We head for the nursery where Luciana is busy cradling another sloth, none of those I saw yesterday, in her arms.
‘Hi, Luciana. Remember Kat? She’s going to be working here as a volunteer. We just came to check on Flash.’
‘Nice to meet you, Kat. I’d greet you properly, but I’m a little busy.’
I wave my hand to dismiss her concerns. ‘No problem. Who’s this little guy, or girl?’ I haven’t checked his or her undercarriage so I can’t tell for sure.
‘Boy. This is Bolt. He’s a little wary.’
Now she’s said it, I can see how nervy he seems. I’m not sure how old he is exactly, but he’s really clinging on to Luciana; it’s clear he has no intention of letting her go. Belatedly, I note she’s wearing soft leather gloves, I guess to protect herself from any major damage being inflicted upon her by her timid companion.
Dexter says, ‘Bolt came to us after his mother was electrocuted on power lines. Sadly, it’s one of the main reasons sloths end up here. That and them being run over on the few occasions they make it to the rainforest floor. They’re safe here, but near the highways not so much. He’s a little skittish, and who can blame him?’
Poor little guy. ‘How old is he?’
‘He’s about six months. It’s hard to be certain, but we try to gauge from their teeth and claws, but since their claws grow at an incredible rate, it’s impossible to know for sure.’
I didn’t know that. Some vet I’d have made. This is definitely going to be a learning-on-the-job role.
‘Anyway, now for Flash.’ Dexter walks ahead of me, through a door into the ‘hospital’. ‘Ah, there he is.’ He points to a transparent incubator, where Flash is fast asleep.
I frown. ‘Is he… is he sucking his thumb?’
Dexter and Luciana both laugh.
‘He is,’ says Dexter. ‘Just like human babies, sloths comfort themselves by sucking their thumbs, or claws, however you want to see it.’
Dexter speaks rapidly with Luciana and I struggle to keep up, although I catch the gist of it. Seems like Flash is doing OK.
‘He needs to put on quite a bit more weight, but he’s stable, and as you can see, sleeping. Why don’t we go get a drink and I’ll explain our daily routine to you, then I’ll introduce you to the team?’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
We say goodbye to Luciana then walk into the main area of the sanctuary where visitors are still visible, listening with rapt attention as Carlos speaks, Ferdinand, as ever, attached to his side.
‘Luciana doesn’t live in the sanctuary, but the rest of us do. We work six days a week, on rotation. There’s always plenty of work to do around here, but we do find some time to kick back and relax.’
Glad to hear it, although to be fair, my current idea of R&R is sitting cuddling a baby sloth. You wouldn’t mind a cuddle from Dexter, either , a naughty little voice in my head tells me. I tell it to shut up.
‘That’s Alejandro.’ He indicates a guy of around twenty who’s busy sweeping the foyer floor.
‘The thing with wild animals is, you can’t tell them where to poop.’
‘Indeed,’ I agree.
‘Alejandro, this is Kat. She’s our new volunteer.’
Alejandro raises a gloved hand and lets forth a torrent of rapid-fire Spanish that I think means, ‘I’d shake your hand, but I stink.’
‘You can tell he’s young. He needs to work on how to talk to girls,’ Dexter says. When I raise an eyebrow, he says, ‘I’m joking. He has them falling at his feet. He doesn’t even need to try.’
I appraise Alejandro again and see what Dexter means. He’s lean and lightly muscled, like an Olympic athlete in training. We leave Alejandro and head round the side of the sanctuary to where some steel cages sit like a blot on the landscape. I wince and Dexter explains, ‘Wholly necessary. The cages are for those adult sloths who, if released into the wild too early, wouldn’t be strong enough to survive on their own, and who could very well end up back in here for a second, longer stretch, or who may, sadly, not be lucky enough to have that second chance.’
When I frown, he says, ‘Carlos and Sofia learned that the hard way in the beginning. One sloth kept trying to escape, so they decided he was ready and released him, with a little tracker on him, as they do with all the sloths, to monitor their wellbeing and see how they’re getting on. Unfortunately, the sloth was hit by a car less than a week later. Victor found it on the road and fetched help, but they couldn’t save it.’
A lump forms in my throat and I try to gulp it away. Poor Carlos and Sofia. I know it’s all part of the cycle of life and death, but it must still hurt like hell to know you’ve saved an animal, only for it later to be killed.
‘Ah, there’s Victor. He’s feeding the adult sloths today, and cleaning out their cages.’ He turns and waves a hand in the air. ‘Victor!’
A man wearing cut-offs and who is totally soaked from the waist down appears beside us.
‘Hey, Victor. How’s it going today?’ Dexter fist bumps Victor, who has to be the other side of forty. He’s also lucky if he’s five foot three.
‘Good. I only have Rapido’s and Velocidad’s cages to clean out and then I’m done.’ He turns to me then. ‘Ah, you must be the new volunteer. Do you speak Spanish?’ When I say, ‘ Sí ,’ he goes on, ‘I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.’ He turns to Dexter. ‘Did you tell me it?’
Dexter shakes his head. ‘Not had time for a proper chat with you for a few days. This is Kat. She’s from back home.’
‘Ah, you’re Irish then? Like Roisin? My goodness, half of Ireland will be here soon.’
‘Not Irish, Scottish,’ I correct gently.
‘Ah, Scotland, Nessie, Braveheart , The Proclaimers.’
I burst out laughing. Nothing like a good stereotype to act as an ice-breaker.
‘My apologies,’ says Dexter. ‘I just meant the UK and Ireland, or quite frankly, Europe. No offence meant.’
I smile up at him. ‘None taken.’ How could I take offence when he is looking at me like that?
Victor wipes his hand on his relatively clean shorts. ‘Pleased to meet you, Kat. Sorry. I’ve been busy hosing down the cages and I’m sure I have more water on myself than on the floors.’ He indicates his clothing. ‘Anyway, you’re going to love it here.’
We shake hands and I answer various questions Victor poses about Scotland. Do I know anyone who lives in a castle? Do I have a tartan? Have I ever eaten haggis? He’s clearly warming to his theme.
Finally, he says, ‘Anyway, I must get back to work, but I’ll see you at dinner, Kat.’
As he wanders off, I arch an eyebrow at Dexter. ‘Dinner?’
‘Yes. You know, third meal of the day? You eat, don’t you?’
‘Of course. I just didn’t realise I was invited.’
‘Well, now you know. Plus, soon you’ll be living here, so you may as well get into the way of things already.’
True.
‘We’ll meet the girls at dinner. I think Roisin and Mariangeles are in town running some errands. They were early shift this morning.’ He looks at his watch. ‘And if I’m not mistaken, Ella will be taking over from Luciana in the nursery shortly. Luciana finishes at four to pick up her kids.’
So many names. There’s not a chance I’ll remember them all, so I don’t even try. I’ll have plenty of time. We’re going to be in forced proximity, after all, and as I glance around, I realise there aren’t exactly many other things around to escape to. I’ve gone from living in a city to living where sloths outnumber people, well, within the sanctuary at least.
‘Ah, Roisin, you’re back,’ says Dexter. ‘Did you get everything?’
I turn, curious to meet one of my new housemates.
‘We did. Dexter, a word, please.’
‘Sure. But first, can I introduce Kat, our new volunteer?’
‘Nice to meet you.’ I go to shake hands with her, but she gestures that her hands are full of packages.
‘Right. And you.’ She gives me a fleeting smile, but it feels forced. ‘Dexter, we need to talk.’ She turns and walks away, clearly expecting him to follow her.
Dexter shoots me an apologetic glance and says, ‘I’ll be right back, Kat.’
I frown. What is with Roisin? Is it something I said? Or did? She definitely doesn’t seem pleased to see me. Is life at Costa Punta not going to be as blissful as I first thought?