Emmy And Me

After my late morning swim I sat with Katrina and Emiliano for lunch. Katrina explained to her dad that she’d had too much to drink the night before and fallen asleep in my suite’s spare bedroom, which I corroborated. Emiliano seemed to accept that story, which really wasn’t far from the truth.

Emiliano thanked me for making sure his daughter was safe and had a good time, and I assured him that I’d enjoyed myself as well, and enjoyed spending time with Katrina.

“Hey,” she said. “Do you have any plans for tomorrow?”

“That’s a Monday, so I have to do some work stuff, but other than that, no,” I told her.

“Wanna do one of those snorkel tours? We can book a day boat to take us out to the coral reefs- you’re obviously a strong swimmer. I mean, I just watched you swim laps for an hour without stopping, and, well, the way you’re built, Michael Phelps envies your shoulders.”

“It’s all the handstand pushups I do,” I confided.

Katrina stared at me for a long moment, then said, “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope.”

“Jesus,” she said.

“Look at her shoulders, Kat,” Emiliano said. “And her arms. Those are the result of years of hard work.”

I did a couple of bodybuilder poses there in my seat, which got a laugh from the two of them.

Putting my arms back down, I asked what time we would have to leave the hotel for the snorkel tour boat. I hadn’t snorkeled since Mom and Dad took me to the La Jolla Cove when I was little, but I didn’t remember it being all that difficult. In fact, I had fond memories of going to the cove with my parents, and looking at the Garibaldis and other sea animals was somehow wrapped up in those memories of good times.

After lunch I showered and headed over to the Castro house, hoping to catch Rafael home. Luckily, the whole family was in, having just finished their own lunch. After kissing Mamá hello, I followed Rafael to his home office.

“I have found two vehicles for you,” he said after pouring us a couple of glasses of aguardiente. “And a lancha that would work for groups of six to go to Tierra Bomba.”

“The cars will be registered to your company, right?” I asked, clinking my glass against his in a silent toast.

“Yes, and your… people will be issued employee identification for my company as well. All of the paperwork will be legitimate.”

“I can’t thank you enough for this,” I told him.

“Nonsense,” he said, waving it away. “This benefits everybody. You, my family’s company, and Cartagena itself. It is us who should be thanking you.” Handing me a slip of paper, he said, “Arturo can have the lancha ready in half an hour, any time of day or night. Call him at this number- he speaks English well enough- and let him know when you need to go to the island.”

“That’s perfect,” I said, texting the information to Michael, Jody and Ricky.

“The vehicles- one van and one camioneta with four doors- they will be ready tomorrow morning. Should I have them delivered to the hotel where your people are staying?” Rafael asked.

“Seriously, you’re amazing,” I told him. “That would be perfect.”

“Family does for family,” he said, making his feelings clear.

After maybe a minute of contemplative silence, I told him about Katrina, Emiliano’s daughter, if that’s who she actually was. I mentioned that she’d let slip, either intentionally or not, about her father’s dangerous business associates.

“That is not proof one way or another,” Rafael said after a moment’s thought. “There are a number of possibilities, which I am certain have occurred to you. But one is that he is in fact the director of a legal import and export company, but the unfortunate truth is that here in Colombia, we have a certain… attitude, that has spilled over from the cartels. It may be that his ‘business associates’ are mine owners, for example, who are not above these things.”

“I guess that makes sense,” I admitted. “So your friend hasn’t come back with any info on a Mr Emiliano Suárez of Grupo Logístico?”

“No, he has not, and that in itself is unusual,” Rafael said with a frown. “Again, that does not mean anything, but it is surprising. I will contact him again tomorrow.”

“I’m going on a snorkel day trip with Katrina tomorrow,” I said. “Maybe I’ll be able to find out more.”

“Forgive me for asking, but why are you so convinced that they are not what they seem?”

“I’m not convinced one way or another, but it’s just… I’m concerned that I may be a blip on the CIA’s radar for one reason or another, and I’d rather have it confirmed or denied than just wondering, you know?” I told him.

Rafael let out a long breath. “Yes, that is understandable,” Rafael admitted. “Have you considered simply asking? If they view you as a potential asset, Emiliano might admit it if you asked him directly.”

“Maybe,” I said, thinking about it. “So, I don’t know if I told you this part, but I’m headed to London after I get done here in Cartagena. I’m due to pick up some suits Emmy had made for me on Savile Row, but also- and this is the part that has my spider senses tingling- I agreed to meet a retired officer from the UK’s Special Forces. He contacted me more or less out of the blue and said that he’d like to talk the next time I came to England.”

“Retired? Or merely shifted to a slightly different line of work?” Rafael asked, echoing my own thoughts on the subject.

“Exactly,” I nodded.

“If this officer is working for English intelligence, that perhaps signifies that you are a person of interest,” he said, nodding his head slowly.

“That’s my concern.”

“And that explains why you are engaging with these people. You wish to discover what their interest in you might be,” Rafael said, lost in thought.

“Again, playing the Devil’s advocate, it might be just that he did some research and found out about my dad and wants to talk about how his grandfather served with my great grandfather in North Africa or something,” I said with a shrug.

“That is possible,” Rafael admitted. “Reasonable, even.”

“And that’s why I’m trying to prove a negative, I guess,” I admitted. “That, and I’d really rather know if I’ve got eyes on me rather than just continuing on in ignorance.”

“Good luck tomorrow with this Katrina,” Rafael said. “But be careful.”

“I will be,” I assured him.

I hung out in the kitchen and talked to Mamá while she made dinner, enjoying the domesticity. We talked mostly about the babies that were due in a few months, and how my life was going to change. I told her that I was looking forward to it and hoped that I could see the babies every now and then when Emmy or Angela could bear to part with them, and Mamá laughed.

“That only lasts a short time,” she assured me. “Soon they will be happy to give you the babies so they can find some sleep.”

“Yeah, probably so,” I agreed.

We talked about how the girls would spend time in Cartagena as well as Paris, so they would know their heritage. I told her that it was very important to us that all three sets of grandparents be very involved in the girls’ lives, despite the distances.

“Any time you can get to come to visit, we would love to have you,” I assured her, and she promised to be there for the births and for some time afterwards to help the new mothers out.

Emmy and Angela called during dinner, so we switched to FaceTime so they could say hello to the entire family. They’d just gotten back to the house in Los Angeles and were relieved to be home, but said they missed me- the house seemed empty without me.

Cecilia told Emmy that we’d watched the Mexico City concert on TV at a bar and it was incredible, getting a big smile from Emmy.

“I am very glad you enjoyed it,” she said. “It means very much coming from family.”

I got back to the hotel around eleven, once again marveling at how busy the streets were at that time of night- on a Sunday night, at that. Of course, they were practically deserted in the middle of the day because of the heat, so I guess it made sense.

Katrina and Emiliano were already there when I stopped by the breakfast area to get some coffee and a little bite to eat. They waved me over, so after loading my plate I joined them.

“The weather looks nice for us today,” Katrina said.

“It is hard to see much in the water if it is cloudy,” Emiliano agreed. “Visibility becomes limited, even if there is enough light.”

“Have you done this snorkel tour before?” I asked, aiming the question at both of them.

“No, but I understand it is very popular. The boat will take you to the Rosario Isles, where the reefs are quite close to the surface. They will take you to a beach resort for lunch, but there will be drinks and snacks on the boat as well,” Emiliano explained.

“I grabbed the brochure from the lobby,” Katrina said, passing the glossy tri-fold handout to me. Looking it over, it seemed to be exactly as Emiliano had described. A shiny motorboat with a partial roof so there was seating in the shade, parked near a small island with crystal clear turquoise water all around.

“I’m looking forward to it,” I said, handing her back the brochure. “I used to go snorkeling a lot when I was a kid, back in San Diego.”

“It’s gonna be awesome!” Katrina said.

The taxi dropped us off at a tourist boat dock in Getsemani, and we made our way to the little office. They spoke English, but Katrina’s Spanish was still quite helpful.

“I got us a private boat,” she said as we followed the boat’s captain and the mate, who carried our bags.

“Let me know how much I owe for my half,” I told her.

She waved it away, saying, “You can pay for lunch- and maybe dinner?” she said, raising her eyebrows hopefully.

“That works,” I agreed.

Once the captain gave us the safety talk and our gear was stowed, the mate got us cold drinks from the cooler, and we were off. It was farther than I’d expected- maybe four times as far as it was to Tierra Bomba, but the boat’s two huge outboards put out a lot of power and we got there in a little more than an hour.

I guess I should have read between the lines when Emiliano said it was very popular- there were tons of boats just floating in place, and more arriving all the time. It was practically a traffic jam of powerboats, with far too many swimmers in the water to even try to count.

“Ugh- what a shitshow,” Katrina groaned, seeing the crowded waters. “Hey, do you mind if I tell the captain to take us someplace less crowded?”

“I think that’d be a great idea,” I agreed, still stunned at the amazing numbers of boats and snorkelers in this one small area.

Katrina and the captain argued for a while- all I picked up was him saying that this was the best spot, and her saying it was too crowded. Eventually he gave in and we motored away from the hubbub and to a cluster of very small islands- each one barely big enough to support the few structures they contained.

“That is a private house,” the captain said, pointing to one tiny island and what looked like a tiny little resort on it. “That is a hotel,” he said, pointing to a somewhat larger island- maybe as big as a football field. “That is also a hotel,” he explained, pointing at a third.

“We will have to go back to the main island for lunch,” he said, looking as if he was still put out by being asked to take us somewhere other than with the huge crowds.

“Maybe we can have lunch at one of these hotels,” I suggested.

“Very much money,” he replied, shaking his head.

“That’s not a problem,” I assured him.

Once the mate threw the anchor overboard (It was just a heavy sack of sand) and tied the line off, the captain went through a practiced speech about snorkeling safety and offered us lifejackets if we needed them. We took the time to fit the masks and fins, then Katrina and I ditched our beachwear and loaded up on sunblock.

Katrina’s bikini was, well, ‘minimal’ would be a good description. What little of it that existed had a vibrant floral print, but the design was too big for the small area it covered so it just looked like blobs of color. The edges, strings and side ties were a fluorescent eye-catching yellow.

I made some sort of joke about how that suit probably fit her better when she was six years old, and yeah, it was lame, but it got a laugh anyhow.

“I don’t get to wear this very often,” Katrina admitted. “Dad would have an aneurysm if he saw me in this.”

I refrained from saying anything about the boat’s two crew members having stiffies from seeing her in that suit- after all, I’m not above admitting it was giving me a little bit of a lady boner, too.

In contrast, my own suit was intended for actual swimming, with a racer-back top and mid-high waisted French-cut bottom in a blue that complimented my eyes.

“I bet you wear a suit as small as this in your bodybuilding competitions,” Katrina said as we sat on the boat’s swim step, putting on our fins and masks.

“I’m not actually a bodybuilder,” I told her as I slipped into the warm, warm sea water. “I just play one on TV.”

The boat’s captain had assured us that the snorkeling was better in the area swarming with other tourists and it probably was, but the place we wound up at was good enough for me. It was shallow- the sandy bottom was maybe a dozen feet from the surface of the water, with coral-covered rock outcroppings rising as much as five feet from the bottom.

Katrina and I swam some distance from the boat- maybe a hundred yards or so as we followed this fish or that ray that caught our attention. We made certain to wave to the boat crew every now and then to indicate we were doing fine, as we’d been instructed in the safety talk.

“This is really beautiful!” Katrina said when we surfaced to talk. When I agreed, she said, “I’m so glad we didn’t stay where everybody else is.”

“Me, too. This is great here,” I said.

“Well, yeah, it is,” Katrina said, “But us being all alone here, with nobody else around? It means I can do something I’ve always wanted to try.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“This!” she said, holding something in her hand above the water. It took me a moment, but when I realized it was brightly-colored scraps of cloth with fluorescent yellow strings, I ducked my mask underwater to check, and yes, she’d ditched her little bitty bikini. Laughing, she splashed me and turned and dove down below the surface, giving me a great shot of her water-covered rear as she did so.

Needless to say, I stuffed my snorkel back in my mouth as quickly as I could and followed her as she swam down to the white sand of the sea floor. She waggled her finger at me when she saw me following, then sped up to the surface take a breath.

Seeing her nude body in the water like that really, really made me wish I was there with Angela instead and could do more than just look and flirt, but that’s all I would ever do with Katrina.

When I surfaced she said, “It’s better than I expected! Feeling the water… It’s awesome! You should do it, too!”

“I skinny dip all the time at home,” I told her.

“Well, then, do it now!” Katrina urged, reaching for my bra strap.

I put my hand on hers and looked her in the eyes. “You know this is as far as I’ll go, right? If you’re trying to get in my pants, it’s not going to work.”

Katrina stopped grabbing for me and pouted. “That isn’t what I meant,” she said. “I was just, y’know, having fun, that’s all.”

“If that’s all, it’s cool,” I told her. “I’m cool with being friends, but no benefits.”

“Friends go skinny dipping together,” she announced.

“I have gone skinny dipping with my friends,” I agreed. “And none of it led to anything more.”

“Sure, whatever- let’s swim nakie!” she said, her good mood returning immediately when I sighed and handed her my mask and snorkel so I could pull my top off over my head.

We did swim nakie for well over an hour, and I will admit that even after the initial titillation wore off it was still a hell of a lot of fun. We weren’t concerned about the guys in the boat seeing us naked since they were too far away, so we swam without a care, other than being careful not to lose our swimsuits.

Eventually we got dressed again, if you could call it that, and swam back to the boat for snacks and cold drinks.

“You were swimming for a long time,” the captain said as the mate handed us bottles of water from the cooler. “There would be more things to see back where the reef is better.”

“There was plenty to see,” Katrina assured him. “This is much better.”

“One more hour, then we will go to the beach resort for lunch,” he announced.

I didn’t want to argue about where we’d get lunch, so I just said, “Sounds good.” I figured he was probably getting a kickback of some sort for the customers he brought in to eat at the resort, and that was his business, after all.

After finishing our drinks and snacks of bananas and cookies, Katrina and I slipped back into the water. As soon as we got far enough away, off came her little bikini again, so I ditched my swimsuit as well, regretting that I’d never bothered to get a GoPro camera for myself.

‘Angela and Emmy are going to get a laugh when I tell them about all this,’ I thought as Katrina and I swam in the warm waters of the Caribbean Sea.

When our time was up we put our suits back on and returned to the boat, only to head back to the area with all the other snorkelers. The nearest island had a dock for the beach resort, but since it was so crowded the captain just pulled up and told us to step off. He handed us each a voucher for lunch, then said that when we were done we should come to the end of the dock and wave and they’d come get us. As soon as we were off the boat he turned it around and motored off to the distance a bit- presumably to make room for the next boat disgorging passengers.

The resort’s open-fronted restaurant was loud and crowded, so I asked the hostess if there was someplace quieter, maybe a little nicer. Once I convinced her that we didn’t care that it wasn’t included in our tour package and we were O.K. paying for our meal, she had somebody lead us through the resort, past the pool, and to the other side of the small island, facing away from all the boats by the reefs.

The second restaurant was much smaller and the only other diners all seemed to be people staying at the resort rather than the day tourists from the snorkel boats.

“This is much nicer,” Katrina said as we sat down. “Thanks for thinking of it.”

“It was too much of a zoo over in the other restaurant,” I said. “That would have ruined a great day.”

“Is it? A great day, I mean?” Katrina asked.

“It has been so far,” I told her.

The prices on the menu seemed a bit expensive compared to what I’d been seeing in Cartagena, but everything had to be brought by boat, so it made sense.

Once the waitress brought our Mai Tais and took our food orders, Katrina leaned back, sipping her drink from its bright blue straw.

“You said you aren’t a bodybuilder, but…” she said, scanning her eyes over my shoulders and arms. “Normal people aren’t built like you.” Then, realizing she’d just put her foot in her mouth, she blurted out, “I mean, you’re built like the proverbial brick house, right? Like Dad said, that takes a lot of time in the gym.”

“I do spend a lot of time in the gym,” I admitted. “I’ve been really slacking since I got here to Colombia, though.”

“You swim an hour a day, from what I can tell. That’s anybody’s idea of a serious workout,” she protested.

“Slacking,” I said, shaking my head.

Katrina just rolled her eyes at that, which was enough of a response.

A bit later, as we were finishing up, Katrina asked about the scar on my cheek.

“I got it in a knife fight,” I told her, getting a laugh.

“What was it, a car accident? You know, the right surgeon could totally make that go away.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they could,” I agreed. Katrina gave me a puzzled look when I didn’t say anything else on the subject, but I ignored it and just paid the bill for lunch.

“Hey, how much more swimming do you want to do?” I asked, thinking I wouldn’t mind skipping the afternoon session if Katrina was cool with it.

“Why? Is there something else you’d rather do than see me naked?” Katrina teased as we walked back through the resort. Her timing was perfect- I heard the American retiree we were passing cough up his Coke when he heard her.

“Well, when you put it like that…” I said, enjoying the flirting. After all, Katrina was gorgeous and did look good with no clothes on. “By the way, I forgot to mention it earlier, but I really think your little landing strip is hella cute.”

“Thank you,” she said, blushing but smiling.