Rhythm in Blue Page 3

  The music changed from the classic, rock fare, to a reggae beat, and only a few dancers remained. Rick thought that maybe since business had slowed, he might be able to catch up with Erin, but just as he was about to get her attention, Shelby appeared and bounced onto the stool next to him.

  “You made it back,” he said.

  “Yeah, I had to wait a long time for my mom and dad to go to bed.” Rick took a drink from the bottle in his hand as she continued. “Once I heard them doing it, I knew I was good to go.”

  In mid-swallow, the beer changed direction and came out his nose as he tried to stifle his laugh. He wiped the sprayed beer from his face, “Is that the all clear signal?”

  “Yep, once I hear moanin’ and groanin,’ I know they’re out for the night.”

  “Shelby!” Kostas scolded, clicking his tongue and shuffling around behind Erin, who was washing glasses, “What are you doing here? It’s late!” Shelby began pleading with him in Greek.

  They continued back and forth for a bit, until finally Kostas walked away with a “humph,” and Shelby looked triumphant.

  “I had to promise him I wouldn’t stay long.”

  “So,” Rick began, “I take it you’re not a big Smoke n’ Mirrors fan?”

  “Truthfully? I’m a fan of just about anything rock and roll, and if my parents want to listen to you guys, they have to come to my room to find your tapes. I love your stuff.” She smiled shyly, “I listen to it all the time.”

  Rick was surprised to find he was relieved by the confession. He didn’t realize how disappointed he was to her indifference to their music. On the other hand, he was bummed to think that he was more like Randy than he liked to admit.

  “Yeah?” he said, “What else do you like to listen to?”

  They discussed and compared their musical likes and dislikes late into the night, until the lights came up and people began to leave the club. Randy sauntered by with his arm around one of the blonds he’d been working, winked at Rick, and said, “Later fucker.”

  Seeing Shelby’s shock at the foul farewell, Rick assured her, “He’s really not that bad, he just doesn’t know how to act anymore.”

  “He sure seems like a dick, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt, for you,” she said as she slid off the barstool. “I should head too, I gotta work in the morning.”

  “Work? Where do you work?”

  “I wash dishes at a taverna down the street. It’s been great talking with you, though. I hope I’m worthy enough to do it again sometime?” she asked, a hint of her shy smile creeping to her lips.

  Rick felt his face color as he remembered how he had brushed her off earlier. “I’m really sorry, I guess I’m just tired from the trip, jet lag and all.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she assured him with a playful punch on the arm. She hollered out a ‘thank you’ to Kostas, who had forgotten she was there.

  “Go home!” he yelled.

  She giggled, turned, and headed for the door.

  Chapter Three

  “Garcon!” Devon called to the waiter across the restaurant, his southern drawl maiming the French word, making the other patrons turn and look. Getting the waiter’s attention, Devon made the international sign for check please. The waiter nodded, but continued what he was doing. Devon groaned. “Come on, I don’t want to sit here all day!”

  Rick thought the whole vacation thing might slow Devon down, but now that he was caught up on sleep, he was in as big a hurry as ever. “Calm down, man, that beach isn’t going anywhere.”

  “I know, but it’s obvious we’re done, and maybe we have places to go, he doesn’t know.”

  Devon had not adjusted to the slowness that came with the island, but Rick fell right into the rhythm. Everything could wait. In fact, Erin told him the island philosophy was Avrio, or tomorrow. There was no hurry for anything. Though a welcome change of pace for Rick, he knew it would be a relentless struggle for Devon.

  The waiter finally brought the check and they all reached for it. Randy, snatched it up. “I got it this time.” As he pulled out his wallet, he examined the bill. “Garcon,” he called, snapping his fingers in the air. When the waiter came back, Randy pointed to the bill and asked, “What’s this ten Drachma for?”

  The waiter, following Randy’s pointing finger, said, “Is bread…”

  “But we didn’t order the bread,” Randy informed him.

  “You have bread, eh, it come,”

  “But we didn’t ask for it, you just brought it!” Randy said, his tone more agitated now.

  “It come,” the waiter insisted.

  Randy continued the dispute until the waiter stormed off.

  “Good grief, Randy, who cares? It’s ten Drachma… I’ll pay it!” Devon said.

  “That’s not the point. The point is, we didn’t order the bread or eat it. These guys will screw you over any chance they get, and if you don’t stand up for yourself, they’ll rob you blind!”

  The waiter returned, still huffing, with Shelby in tow. She smiled when she saw them. “I might have known Randy was behind this.” She wore a long, plastic apron, water dripping from it, onto the floor.

  “He’s trying to rip me off, charging me for something I didn’t order!”

  “Iye malaka!” the waiter spit.

  “What did he call me?” Randy asked, taking a step toward the waiter.

  “He said you’re a wanker. Look,” she continued, stepping between the two, using her proximity to make Randy take a step back, “the bread is just part of the meal. If you don’t want it, you have to tell them before you order.”

  Keith pulled the waiter aside, apologizing and paying the bill. While the guy wasn’t quite ready to make nice, he took the money, gave Randy another dirty look, and went about his work.

  “Thank you darlin’,” Devon said, patting her hand as she leaned on the table. “So, you work here?”

  “Yeah, gotta support my bad habits somehow,” she said, reaching across the table to Rick’s pack of cigarettes. She took one without asking, and Randy was right there with a lighter, his argument with the waiter already forgotten.

  “Aren’t you kinda young to be smoking?” Rick asked.

  She raised her eyebrow at him. “How old were you when you started?”

  He nodded. “You didn’t smoke at the club the other night,” he said, searching his memory to make sure he was right.

  “Kostas would kill me if he saw me smoking!”

  Randy looked her up and down. “Baby, you’re all…” he breathed, “wet.”

  She rolled her eyes, and chose to ignore him. “So what are you guys up to today?”

  Devon told her that they were hoping to make it to the beach to do some snorkeling, and asked for the best place to go, but Randy interrupted.

  “Actually, maybe you could show us some of the nude beaches.”

  This time, she looked him up and down, slowly. Noting his fair, skinny legs she asked, “You sure you’re ready to go parading around naked?” She paused, waiting for the slur to sink in, and then, looking at her watch, said, “I’m done in about twenty minutes. If you want, I can take you. Snorkeling,” she shot a reprimanding look to Randy.

  “If you’re sure you’re not busy,” Rick said, happy to think that she might accompany them.

  “Sure I’m sure, I’ll just go finish up. You done with these?” she grabbed their glasses off the table and headed back into the restaurant.

  ~

  Rick leaned back on his elbows, the towel beneath him doing little to protect him from the rough, concrete sidewalk. This was not what he had pictured as lying on the beach. Shelby told them, “If you want to snorkel, you don’t want to do it from the beach. You need rocks. The beach is boring, just sand and sea cucumbers to look at.” She led them to the other end of town, up a hill, over a wall, and finally down a long flight of steps hugging a steep cliff.

  At the bottom of the steps stretched the sidewalk on which he now sat, and at the en
d of the sidewalk sat a small chapel built into the side of the cliff. It was incredible, but not comfortable. The sidewalk dropped off onto a beach of smooth rocks mixed with sand for about two feet, where they met the sea.

  Several large rocks cropped up out of the water, like small islands, which were great for diving and jumping, and Shelby guided them to the top, helping them avoid underwater perils like sea urchins, nestled where one might put their foot when climbing the rocks. She warned them how painful it could be to step on one, and it was obvious that she knew the place well. Secluded, away from view of the village, and away from tourist – perfect.

  “Ricky!” Randy yelled from about twenty feet out in the water, “You done with your flippers?” Rick stood and tossed them out, one at a time. As he went back to his towel, Shelby returned from swimming. She pulled herself up the three-foot wall, onto the sidewalk. There were steps to come up a little further down, but she couldn’t be bothered. The steps, it seemed, were more cumbersome than lifting herself straight up.

  She lay back on the sidewalk next to Rick. She had no towel, so he offered to scoot over and share, but she refused. The water droplets covering her tanned skin reflected the sun, and she appeared to sparkle.

  Rick reached over to his pants and grabbed his cigarettes. He lit two and handed one to Shelby. “This is great,” he said, “thanks for bringing us.” They would have never found the place on their own, and now that he had been there, he knew he would be back.

  “You bet,” she answered. “I come here just about every day.”

  “I would have thought you’d go where the boys are,” he teased.

  “No,” she said, matter-of-factly, “the night is for the boys, the day is for me.”

  He laughed, “So the boys get you at night, huh?”

  “Well,” she corrected, “nobody gets me, ever. But I hang out with some of the guys quite a bit.”

  “What, all those boys and no boyfriend?” He winced as she leaned back onto the concrete with her bare elbows.

  “Almost all of them have been my boyfriend at one point or another, but never for long.”

  “Can’t commit?”

  “No, I had the same boyfriend all winter, but he dumped me when summer came around.”

  “Why?”

  “‘Cause I wouldn’t put out, so when the first tourist girl close to his age showed up, I was history.”

  “That must have been hard,” he said, a little uncomfortable to be talking about her sex life.

  “It was,” she admitted, turning onto her stomach.

  He couldn’t see her face, but her voice said tears filled her eyes. Changing the subject, he asked “What about girls? Don’t you have any girlfriends?”

  “Off and on,” she said, sounding strong once again. “The girls aren’t really allowed to go out much, so it’s hard to find any that can hang out. It’s ironic,” she said, sitting up on her elbows, “the Greek girls my age are so sheltered, yet they still manage to do it with someone – few of them are virgins. I have the freedom, but don’t do it with anyone, and I’m the whore, the butana.”

  “Who calls you a whore?”

  She studied her fingers for a moment, shrugged her shoulders and said, “Well, everyone.” With that, she popped up, jumped down from the sidewalk, and headed back out to the rocks.

  Rick rolled to his stomach and wondered, maybe her life here wasn’t as perfect as she liked to let on. As he lay there, he imagined the village people gossiping about her possible exploits with the local boys. Erin told him the Greeks were a very conservative people, many of the marriages still arranged, and the locals regarded most of the tourist women as whores. Apparently, the fact Shelby spoke like a Greek wasn’t enough to save her from the same fate.

  Rick was beginning to drift off to sleep when he had the rude shock of cold water splashing over his back. He turned over to find Keith standing above him, the source of the cold water, his snorkeling mask, in his hands and an evil grin on his face. “Bastard,” he said, slapping at Keith’s legs.

  They had all returned, flippers and masks in hand, dripping wet. The only swimmer left was Shelby, practicing her diving technique from the highest point. The four sat in a row on the sidewalk, watching her dive and climb back up the rock.

  “God, she’s beautiful,” Randy said, admiring her strong body. Rick gave him a reproachful look. “What? I know you guys are all thinking the same thing, so don’t even act like I’m some big pervert. I’m just the only one who’s not afraid to admit it.”

  Chapter Four

  Rick stood on the street, leaning against the wall of the bakery, waiting for Erin to emerge. The plastic shopping bags he held bit into his fingers. He debated putting them down, but knew if he did, she would walk out the door as soon as the bags hit the ground. Enticing him to come shopping with the promise of hot raisin muffins, and the bakery was her last stop. His mouth watered at the aroma wafting from the shop’s open door. When Erin walked out of the store, she was chatting with a woman a step behind her.

  “Ricky,” she called, motioning for him to come over. “This is Judy. She’s one of the other American women who live here.”

  Rick set the bags down and offered his hand, but suddenly wished he could take it back before she clasped it. Hot and sweaty from holding the bags, it was too late to back out. She took his hand, looked at it briefly, and went on as though she didn’t noticed anything.

  “Nice to meet you Ricky,” she said, all the while checking him out.

  “You too, Judy.”

  “Judy is Shelby’s mom,” Erin said.

  Rick nodded, “Ahh, okay, yeah, I met Shelby the other night at the –”

  “Movies,” Erin cut him off.

  “Oh yeah?” Judy asked, “What did you see?”

  “Ben-Hur,” Erin answered for him.

  Judy nodded her head, obviously smelling a skunk, but she went along with it. “Ben-Hur’s a classic, and we get it here at least once a summer.”

  “Shelby’s a great kid,” Rick said, “You must be very proud.”

  “She’s a handful, alright.” Judy replied, still nodding.

  “Well, she seems to have a good head on her shoulders, so I wouldn’t worry too much,” he said, trying to make the conversation a little lighter.

  “So, you’re the famous Rick Rowland,” she changed the subject, and he could tell by the look in her eye he had to play the celebrity game. He nodded and debated which rehearsed reply he would use, but before he could get anything out, she said matter-of-factly, “You must be very lonely.”

  He felt like he’d been punched in the gut and could feel the blood drain from his face. He couldn’t respond, and Judy, sensing she’d made him uncomfortable, turned to Erin and asked, “Is there anything I can help you do to get ready for the wedding? Shelby said you felt overwhelmed.” Judy didn’t apologize or offer to explain the stinging comment.

  “Actually, she is coming over when she gets off work to help. She has really helped calm me down.” Erin continued, but Rick was lost in the thoughts whirling through his head. Had this been a eureka moment? Had she hit the nail on the head, telling him he was lonely?

  “I’m going to take this stuff back to your place Erin,” he said, raising the bags slightly. “Judy, it was great to meet you, and I’m sure I’ll see you again.” He wasn’t even sure if he interrupted them mid sentence, he just wanted to get away.

  Rick took the bags to Erin and Kostas’s house, but didn’t stay. He needed to be alone, and walked through the town, down to the waterfront. He turned and followed the coast south, toward Shelby’s spot under the cliff. He knew she wouldn’t be there, she was working, and if he heard correctly, would be helping Erin after that.

  The place felt different in the morning. The sidewalk was shaded from the sun, and the sea was as smooth as glass. He sat down on the sidewalk with his legs hanging over the edge. He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt so rotten, at least, not since he’d left home.


  Why had Judy’s comment struck him so deeply? He had to wonder, people surrounded him constantly, and if he was alone, then he was alone by choice. He was lucky enough to work with his best friends, and they were usually together. He began to think about the other people who moved through his life, the people he dealt with every day. Rick couldn’t think of anyone he spent time with that didn’t have something to gain from his company. The women he had been with were in it for the spotlight, to fulfill some adolescent fantasy, or just so they could tell their friends they screwed someone famous. None of them were worth seeing more than once. Even Johnny, as faithful as he was, was on the payroll.

  The glassy sea slowly calmed him. He could see the rock and sand covered seabed as clearly as though looking at it through a window. A small school of fish darted around a rock as though of one mind. He watched as they flitted first up, then down and behind the rock, and back again, a drill perhaps, to prepare them for some future predator. A patch of seaweed growing from below the rock swayed as the fish swam past, but the water’s surface never betrayed the activity below.

  Rick lay back on the sidewalk without the small benefit of the towel. He thought of the fish swimming, the seaweed swaying, and he imagined Shelby dancing – her hair floating in the air, all moving to an inaudible yet ever-present rhythm that was the island. Soon, he slept.

  ~

  It was early at the Islander. They were still playing last year’s disco beats. Rick chose to sit in a far corner of the club, his mood still subdued from Judy’s comment earlier in the day. He leaned back into the cushioned, bench style seat and put his feet up on one of the short stools. Devon, Randy, and Keith had all gone to the movies. Erin was right, Ben Hur was showing, but Rick had no interest in seeing it.