Chapter 3 #2
James sped down the length of the island.
The short white luxury tents grouped together in roughly the center of this part of the island between the dorms and the villas.
Most of them with their flaps pulled down, but some were open as people lounged about on the beds inside.
He couldn’t see very well into them, but he’d already seen the photos from the website and knew what they looked like.
He didn’t need to torture himself with what he could have gotten by just paying an extra two grand and had someone to split the villa with.
“I’m sorry, it just seemed way too expensive to not know what we were getting ourselves into,” Steve said when James confronted him back at home.
“This is an exclusive invite, Steve. It could mean something to be there. How many people do we know that didn’t get it, but you and I both did?”
“Yeah, well, maybe they just think we’re good marks,” Steve said. The implication cut James deeply, but Steve kept speaking. “Look, I already made up my mind, and I’m not going.”
So, instead of one of the beautiful tents, James amended his reservation for that tiny room back at the dorms. He kept his eyes on the water and avoided looking at the luckier, happier people in the tent village.
The elevated four person villas were placed even further south, and all their porches appeared empty.
No animals or people hid under these ones, as far as James could tell, but the verdant shrubs growing patches of red and the short trees with stumpy bitter melons hanging from their branches provided cover for something or someone to remain unseen.
Turning west to finish circumnavigating the whole island, he saw the black and empty stage inside its skeleton of trusses.
This side of the island swarmed with people and looked less like a festival than an actual town.
People walked and ran across the beach, ate inside the straw-covered buildings, and drank beer or dove off the pier that stretched out into the ocean.
There were more people in the ocean on this side as well, swimming or snorkeling or on jet skis further away from the beach.
On the shore nearest to the villas, he noticed a line of large boxes that seemed out of place until he noticed there were people in them.
“Hot tubs on the beach. This place has hot tubs on the fucking beach,” he muttered to himself.
James slowed down to avoid collision with another group, then came to a complete stop and allowed himself to bob on top of the waves.
He gazed down into the blue water but saw only his own reflection stretch and warp on the surface.
He watched himself, like Narcissus in a funhouse mirror, until something changed and became twisted.
His mouth stretched on the waves, but it stretched a little too far, grinning from ear to ear, or further.
He gasped, and flinched away from the water, like the reflection might reach out of the ocean and grab him.
When he leaned back over and peered at the bobbing surface, the specter disappeared, and James gazed upon his own face again.
He kicked at the distorted image, feeling ridiculous for his fear now, and it scattered in a splash, the cool water welcome on his bare skin.
He must have been riding for a good hour. He stopped feeling gently warmed by the sunshine and instead it slowly cooked him. He felt tired and thirsty and decided to return the jet ski and search for something to drink.
“How was it?” the woman at the desk asked him, taking the keys back.
“Just as good as I’d hoped,” he told her, then as an afterthought added, “Are there any animals on the island?”
The woman nodded. “There’s a petting zoo near the dormitories. I think they have pigs, goats, some chickens—”
“No, I mean, are there any big animals on the island? Like big cats?” James asked.
“Um, no, I don’t think so.” The woman turned to the other person behind the desk with her, a dark-skinned man with short hair in a Hawaiian shirt that matched hers but not fitted as tightly. “Are there big animals on the island, Mark?”
Mark shrugged and gave an exaggerated frown as a response. The woman turned back to James.
“No, I’m pretty sure there’s not. But I don’t really know. You could ask in the app, though.”
James thought about whatever he saw on the north side of the island. Probably just some maintenance person working on the buildings. Nothing to get hung up on … but he didn’t think he wanted to film up there.
James got his things out of the locker, dunking his shirt in the ocean to help him cool off, and bought himself a bottle of water so exorbitantly overpriced he considered drinking out of the ocean.
He sat down in the shade of a tree and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
Nothing from Steve. He started to type out something, then stopped.
Steve hadn’t tried to contact him yet, despite James’ traveling.
Wouldn’t the polite thing be for Steve to text first, ask how things were going?
James deleted the message. He could hold out and wait for Steve to finally be the bigger person for once.
He took a swig from his water bottle and tried not to think about it.
I’m here. He’s not. That’s just how things are, and I’m going to have a good time.
James decided on two other locations he’d noticed during his ride to film a batch of illusion videos.
The first was an isolated part of the island near the dormitories where no one else congregated, and the other just south of that along the beach where several bars hosted dozens of people getting drunk enough to shed their inhibitions and participate in a trick.
He got all the shots he needed of himself alone to splice together later for a more involved levitation and disappearance illusion, with an envy-inducing backdrop of sunrise orange hibiscus plants and an ocean view that stretched unbroken for eternity and then headed toward the bars.
“Excuse me, would you be interested in being in a video for a magic trick?” he asked the first group of sun kissed women he encountered sitting along a bamboo bar.
Any other day, James offered up money to incentivize people to participate—and keep his secrets if the trick mostly involved video editing—but he knew that wouldn’t work here.
Rather, he hoped that the bartenders poured hard and tried to be as inviting as possible.
The women smiled and looked to one another to see if they thought he was serious. Then a strawberry blond in a blue top shrugged. “What do we have to do?”
James pulled out his phone and handed it to another one of the women to film. He instructed his new assistant to stand with him in the shot.
“Just stay calm and enjoy yourself, okay? This is all for fun. Now, what’s your name?”
“Becca.”
“Where are you from, Becca?”
“Boca Raton.”
“And are you enjoying yourself here so far?”
Becca looked to her friends for an answer, but they all laughed at her for agreeing to be in the video. “Uh, yeah, I’m enjoying myself.”
“Are you here with anyone special, Becca?”
Becca shook her head, but her smile never faltered.
“You’re here without a special someone? Well, maybe I can make you feel special,” James said, flicking his wrist and revealing a perfect red rose from seemingly thin air.
Becca’s jaw dropped and her friends gasped. She reached out for the rose, but before she could put fingers on the stem, James drew his hand back.
“Wait now, I don’t want to give you the wrong idea, we’re just friends here.”
He flicked his wrist again, shaking the color out of the rose to make it yellow.
“What?” Becca said, drawing out the vowel in disbelief.
“How’d you do that?” one of her friends asked.
This time when she reached for the rose, James allowed her to take it.
“Becca, what do you do back home in Boca Raton?”
“I’m a makeup artist,” she said, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. She’d warmed up to him now.
“Oh, you’re a makeup artist. Is that why you’re here? Are you pretty well known for that?”
Becca shrugged. “Who knows why any of us are here?” she said and laughed hard, knocking loose the hair she’d tucked behind her ear.
“Well, if you’re famous, do you think I could get your autograph?”
James produced a permanent marker from his board shorts and offered it to Becca like he’d done with the rose. This time, she didn’t need to seek approval from friends before reaching out.
“What do you want me to sign?” she asked, uncapping the pen.
James put his arm out to her, inner elbow facing up. Becca signed her first name in swooping letters and gave the pen back to him. He approached the camera to show the dried ink on his skin.
“Thank you so much, Becca, it was so great to meet you. Will you take a bow with me?” he asked, backing away from the camera and spreading his fingers wide to take her hand in his.
James raised their hands high above their heads, bending his elbow slightly to accommodate the height difference, and Becca followed suit, bending deeply as though giving a bow onstage to a standing ovation.
When they stood, James pointed to Becca’s forearm. “What’s that?”
“Oh my god!” one of her friends shouted.
James brought Becca closer to the camera to show that it was now his signature written on her slender arm, with his YouTube handle written beneath it.
“That’s so crazy,” Becca marveled.
“Becca, you’ve been such a good sport, thank you so much. Have you enjoyed doing this with me?”
“Yes.” Becca nodded, beaming.
“Is there anything that would make it better?”
“That you can do?” she asked.
“Get rid of these stupid bikes and make the drinks free!” one of the friends shouted.
“I’ll see what I can do,” James said, with a wink to the camera before reclaiming his phone.