chapter TWO #2
Leah made arrangements for us to take a boat tour of the island, starting with the Blue Grotto and then winding around the island to see the sea caves of Capri.
Since the tides don’t always cooperate enough for people to view the Grotto, Leah wanted to do this on our first day, just in case we aren’t able to during the others.
We walk down to the Grande Marina and pass the vendors and shops we saw yesterday. Past the hydrofoil dock, there is a small area with several boats, anchored idly in the water.
I follow Leah down a concrete path to a boat about fifteen feet long with an Italian flag waving from a pole in the center. There is a day bed taking up half of the space with a small seating area in the back and motor for the captain to drive. It’s a leisure boat made for tours of the island.
I take the gentleman’s hand who will be driving us on our tour and take my spot on the day bed, sitting up straight and holding on to my bag. Leah stretches out next to me and leans back on her hands, looking up at the sun.
The gentleman escorting us on our tour speaks a little English, but it is very hard to understand with his thick accent. I know a tiny bit of Italian from taking it in high school, which doesn’t amount to much. We nod and pretend we know what he’s saying. All we can make out is his name is Raphael.
Starting the engine, Raphael drives away from the dock, and the rocking in the water forces me to brace myself. I place my hand on the bed behind me and lean back on my side, my back facing the water, my front to Leah.
We turn left and drive past the Grande Marina. Leah points out our hotel and takes a picture of it with her phone. Then, she snaps a few shots of me and asks me to take a few of her in return.
She slides the phone back in her pocket and goes back to taking in the sun.
Before long, Raphael slows us down and Leah and I peer up to see why we’ve changed speed.
Ahead of us is a sea of boats similar to ours and smaller wooden dinghies. They look like gridlock traffic, all idling in the water, dangerously close to the rock that is the island of Capri.
“Grotto Azzurra,” Raphael says as he idles the engine.
Amongst the boats before us, there is a larger one with a sign over it. It looks like a concession stand of sorts. Squinting my eyes I try to make out what the sign says. It’s where people pay their admission to see the Blue Grotto.
I notice there is a man to each dinghy and ushering tourists from boats like ours onto the wooden crafts, and then paddling over to the concession to pay an admission.
Leah asks Raphael why we can’t take this boat to see the Blue Grotto.
He points to a very small opening in the rock.
We watch as one at a time, the dinghies approach the opening that looks entirely too small for them to fit through.
The man on the boat instructs the passengers to lie down on their backs as he pulls himself, and the vessel through the opening by a metal chain that is mounted to the rock until they disappear inside the sea cave.
It looks slightly frightening.
I glance at Leah with an unsure feeling. She shrugs me off and tells me to relax.
We are waiting in a line of sorts. Tourist boats like ours are all gathered in a mosh pit, there’s no telling who was here first. When it’s our turn, Leah and I will board a dinghy and be swallowed up by the sea cave. My stomach drops at the thought.
We slowly inch up, getting closer to the mass of wooden boats. There have to be twenty in line before us.
Craning my neck, I look around at the sea around us. My eyes widen at the sight of a very familiar vessel.
I nudge Leah. “Look.”
She turns her head and gawks over at the yacht we were spying on yesterday. It’s about a two hundred yards from us, but it’s so massive, it feels like it’s on top of us.
“Looks like Mr. Sex-a-thon took a break for some culture this morning.”
“How long did you watch them yesterday?” I ask.
“Over an hour. It was enough that I had to FaceTime Adam for some afternoon delight.”
“Ugh! You did not do that while I was sleeping!”
“Actually, it was more like morning delight for Adam.” She grins. “Calm down, I went into the bathroom. You didn’t even know, so what do you care?”
I sock Leah in the arm and she laughs.
“Did they seriously go at it that long?” I am so curious. Parker and I never went longer than twenty minutes. And that was on a special occasion.
I once heard Seth Myers tell a joke. “A new study came out that women prefer sleep over sex. Who would want to sleep for two and a half minutes?” When I heard it I thought of Parker and me.
“Ems, he had her in every position. And I mean every position. We’re talkin’ crazy Kama Sutra stuff.”
I lift my fingers to my face, feeling the heat from my blush. I am not a blusher. Let’s make that clear. But just thinking about what I saw through those binoculars yesterday made me hot all over.
“You are so getting laid this week.” Leah winks and I glare at her. Getting in bed with someone is so far down on the list of things I want to do.
Thirty minutes later, Leah and I are still drifting in the boat, waiting our turn, when one of the dinghies makes its way over to us.
Leah lets out a huff. “It’s about time.”
She gets up and waits for me to stand as well. The small boat pulls up next to ours and Raphael holds on to it, trying to keep it positioned as close to ours as possible. The man in the dinghy holds out his hand and motions for me to grab it and come on board.
I rise and steady my feet to step over the wall and down onto the small boat. Holding my bag with my left hand, I grab the man’s outstretched hand with my right.
“Nessuna borsa.” He says, motioning to the purse I have clenched tightly to my body.
I blink back at him. There is no way I am leaving my bag and all of its belongings here with a stranger, no matter how nice Raphael may seem.
“Emma, leave your purse. You can’t take it with you.” Leah translates in case I didn’t get the message.
Still holding the man’s hand, I turn to face her. I try to give her an eye that reads over my dead body.
“Give me the bag!” Leah orders and starts to snatch it from my hand.
“Stop that,” I pull it back toward me.
Raphael releases the dinghy and stands to say something to the effect of why I can’t take the bag. The man in the dinghy is now only connected to our boat by the strength of our hands clasped to one another.
“Seriously, you can’t take it with you. Give it to me.” Leah yanks the bag hard.
I release the man’s hand and swing my right arm over to seize the bag back out of Leah’s grasp. In doing so, I lose my ground and, more importantly, my footing and barrel ass up, backward toward the water.
I try to clutch Leah’s hand on the way down but when I clasp my hand on hers, the nerve in my palm bites back and the pain shoots up my arm, forcing me to let go.
My arms flail and I hit the water with a splash, as the searing pain travels from my hand up into to my head.
Black.
All I see is black.
My lungs feel heavy and my body is lifeless.
Ashy blonde hair floats around my face. I adjust my eyes and see water .
. . everywhere. In front of me, next to me, above and below.
The light in front of my eyes goes dark again and then comes back into focus.
I reach up to grab onto something, anything, but all I feel is water.
It’s dark.
My heart goes into panic mode as I spin around. I move my arms erratically and try to swim up, but I don’t seem to be moving. A burning sensation settles in my throat, and my chest grows heavier as the air locked in my lungs begs to get out.
My body is trembling when two arms wrap around my chest and pull me back. My body arches forward, my head and feet curving in as I am dragged in retrograde like a rag doll backward and upward.
As soon as my head is above water, I gasp for air and start coughing from deep within. I sound like a barking seal.
Hair is stuck to the front of my face, and I can’t see anything as my body continues to be manhandled. One very strong, thick arm wraps around my torso as the other releases its hold on me.
“Can you hang on?” A raspy, deep voice says from behind me. The accent is American.
Trying to process what is happening, I swallow back and attempt to understand what he’s saying.
“I need you to hold onto the side of the boat. Can you do that?” The male voice asks again. Taking my right hand, I brush the hair away from my face and reach up, securing my body to the boat in question.
When I am in place, the American lets me go and hoists himself over the side in a rather rough manner.
My body bobs in the water as the boat sways from his weight.
No sooner is he on the deck does he reach down and lifts me from under my armpits and out of the water.
His thumbs leave a prodding feeling in my skin.
He sets me down on a seat and my stomach curls in, hugging my chest to my knees. My clothes are soaked and I’ve lost a shoe. I’m shaking, frightened from what I can now acknowledge was a near drowning.
Looking around, I notice this is not my boat. It’s slightly larger in size to the one I was on and far more luxurious. My eyes widen with panic until I hear Leah’s voice yelling over the commotion.
“Emma! Oh my God! Are you okay?” Her voice is close but not coming from the boat I am on.
I look around and find her, about thirty feet from where I am.
She is standing up and visibly shaken from her place on Raphael’s boat.
Her clothes are also soaked. I must have pulled her into the water at the same time.
“I’m okay. You?” I assure her.
“Still intact.” She calls out. “Where’s your bag?”
My bag? I pat my body and then do a quick search at the space around me.
Oh, my God.
“My bag!” I exclaim, standing quickly, I nearly fall overboard again as I launch my body toward the side of the boat to look in the water.