Chapter 16 #2
I knew I should decline, because my life was complicated enough as it was.
I was considering disobeying my superior, sabotaging her trip, and probably my entire career.
Now I was thinking of spending two nights in a hotel with Adrián, when I wasn’t sure where our relationship was going, when I was starting to become obsessed with someone else— who I hadn’t even met —and when I wasn’t even sure how long I’d be in this country.
These were the ingredients of a trashy reality show.
Adrián was basically inviting me to The Fantasy Suite.
“You’ve never seen water like this. Absolutely crystal clear.
” Adrián grabbed my hands. “And warm.” I was beginning to feel uncomfortably warm myself.
Every time I was in Adrián’s presence, my doubts started fading.
It’s like the heat of his body melted my reservations.
“And we’ll be alone.” Was that a feature or a bug?
Adrián leaned over the table and started kissing me.
And kissing me. And kissing me. This option was sounding better.
Goddamn hormones, they made everything so confusing.
So Christmas Eve morning, I threw caution to the wind and met Adrián at the water tanks, so my host family wouldn’t see who I was going with.
After all, they thought I was going on a chaste surfing trip to Tamarindo and I didn’t want to disillusion them.
Adrián was waiting for me in his Jeep, in shorts and a thin tee.
It was strange to be going to the beach on Christmas, and I thought fondly of my mom’s non-Christmas Christmas decorations.
After four hours of light banter and heavy sexual tension, we arrived in Manuel Antonio.
Manuel Antonio was one of the most famous national parks in Costa Rica, consisting of hundreds of acres of rainforest meeting waves.
Hotels lined the mountainside most of the way down to the park.
The buildings looked like they were being swallowed alive by the encroaching greenery.
Toucans were croaking at the tourists, and golf ball–sized mosquitoes swarmed near all pools of water.
It was as if the entire ecosystem was making a coordinated attack against the invading humans. I was rooting for the ecosystem.
Adrián’s father’s hotel was the first on the strip, which meant it was farthest away from the beach.
Adrián parked by the Paraíso Tropical sign, and I waited for him in the Jeep while he got the room keys, so no one would know he was potentially having illicit relations with someone he wasn’t married to.
The smell of guanabanas in varying stages of decomposition hit me when I rolled down the window, so I rolled it back up and almost passed out from the heat.
Adrián came back with the keys, and twenty minutes later we were in our bathing suits and flip-flops, traipsing down the hill toward the beach.
It was approaching three, and the air felt like a melting block of cheddar cheese.
The humidity was much worse than in San José.
By the time we got into the park, my coverup was soaked through with sweat and bug repellant.
We were in the rainforest now, and scary-looking red wasps followed us while howler monkeys shrieked in the treetops.
The trees here were dense, but occasionally there would be a break where we could see the turquoise waves rolling in, framed by palm leaves.
Finally, the vista opened up and we found a secluded blue lagoon buffeted by cliffs on two sides.
The landscape was almost painfully beautiful. A thin crescent of white sand was backed by rainforest, and the cliffs on both sides kept the lagoon private and tranquil. Small waves rolled in and out with a gentle rumbling. This was my personal definition of heaven.
It was also my personal definition of acceptably safe ocean conditions.
The water was light blue and clear, just like a heavily chlorinated pool, which is the only kind of water I’ll enter, because you can see the creepy crawly things before they get you.
Adrián and I waded out to a sandbar and dug ourselves seats in the sand.
Looking toward the shore, I could see the wildlife: capuchin monkeys, crabs, and Italian guys in banana hammocks.
I turned my back toward the shore and looked out toward the open sea.
Adrián closed his eyes, but I kept a vigilant eye on the water, on the lookout for pernicious fish. Which in my opinion, was all fish.
He opened his eyes. “You’re so quiet, Preciosa .”
I was thinking about Café Alegre and Las Nubes.
Even in the midst of all this beauty, it was hard to push them from my mind.
I hadn’t mentioned my dilemma to Adrián.
I was afraid to hear what he thought about it.
“It’s just, I have a lot of decisions to make, and it’s making me a little anxious. Maybe even depressed.”
“I’ve been reading a book about that, actually. Being and Nothingness .”
I stared at him. Genial, even-tempered Adrián read Sartre for fun ? What other depths was he hiding? “Tell me about it.”
“Sartre says that life is a futile passion, because we have no immutable essence. So you can think of yourself as an amorphous blob.”
Adrián traced an amoeba on my shoulder. I wasn’t fond of picturing myself as a blob. Especially not when I was wearing a bikini.
“Since we have no essence,” he said, “we have to choose who we want to be. Which means we are responsible for who we are.”
“Choosing is horrible,” I said. “But why does it make us depressed?”
“Because we feel anguish at the responsibility.” Adrián started to float on his back, turning his hands into paddles. I got on my back, too. Water filled my ears. “What if you choose wrong? If you fail, then it’s your fault .”
It sounded like Adrián had been talking to my dad. I stood up, tilted my head to the side, and started pounding—to get out the water, and the thought demons.
“And if you are the one responsible for your choices, that means there’s no higher authority. So you start to feel abandoned. Like why isn’t there a god out there helping you?”
I could already feel the nightmares forming. There is no God, Dee. You are alone! Totally alone! And responsible!
“So,” said Adrián. “You’re not adequately equipped to make your life choices, and no one is coming to help you. What are you supposed to do? Flip a coin?”
A wave crashed over me. I sat up choking.
“Normal people don’t feel comfortable flipping a coin about something as important as who they are.
We want a rational basis for our lives, but we can’t find one.
So—” He stopped looking at the sky and looked at me.
“Life is a futile passion of always wanting answers and not being able to get them.”
“Wow.” I sunk my head under the water and stayed there for a moment. If I never surfaced, I’d never have to make any decisions. I wouldn’t have to decide if I should set up the minitrip, sleep with Adrián, finish my degree, stay in Costa Rica, or go to law school. It was very appealing.
But I couldn’t hold my breath for that long. So I surfaced. “That’s very depressing.” I buried my face into Adrián’s shoulder. “Let me know when you’ve discovered a higher power. Because until then, I’m checking out.”
* * *
The thing is, you can’t check out, not for very long anyway. You are forced to make decision after decision, even though you have no road map. I was forced to consider one of them that very evening when Adrián and I returned to our room after dinner.
We were standing on the small balcony of our room.
Directly below us was a large canopy of trees stretching down the hillside toward the Pacific.
Monkeys were shaking the trees, and the night was alive with insect sounds.
It was just after sunset, and the horizon was covered with orange and pink streaks.
Above the colored bands, the sky was a deep blue, and stars and planets were beginning to twinkle.
I knew I should have just been enjoying this live theater of the cosmos, but I wasn’t. I was thinking about what Adrián had said on the beach. Who designed all this beauty if there was no higher power? What was I supposed to do if there was no rational basis for choice?
Adrián slipped his arm around me and began kissing my neck, leading me back into the room. I had been both excited and anxious about this precise moment. This was the first time that Adrián and I were truly alone.
“I’m dying for you, Dee,” he said into my ear, as he lifted me onto the bed. His hands were gently caressing my waist, and slowly moving south. It was simultaneously so tender and so passionate, and I was flooded with the craziest mix of desire and trepidation. What did I want? Why didn’t I know?
Adrián noticed my ambivalence right away. “What’s wrong?”
I said nothing. When it mattered the most, I was able to communicate the least.
“Speak to me.”
I wanted to, I really, really did. It’s just that I couldn’t.
“We don’t have to do this.” Adrián sat up. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m just really stressed out.”
“About what?”
I sat up. How do you tell someone that you care for them, but you’re not sure if they’re right for you? We were so different, and while he was okay with that, I wasn’t sure I was. The one thing I did know is that if we took this step together tonight, it would be a lot harder to turn back.
But I didn’t know how to tell him that. So I told him something else. “It’s work.”
Adrián put a warm hand on top of my cold one. “Tell me about it.” I caught him up on Café Alegre and Las Nubes.
“That’s rough,” he said, wrapping his arms tightly around me. The sky was completely dark now and it was getting cooler.
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to set up the minitrip there.”
Adrián didn’t hesitate. “You have to.”
I was startled by his response. Was it that clear-cut to him? “Why?”