Emmy And Me

We did wind up doing our allotted amount of time in the ocean, and yes, it was pretty much one hundred per cent nakie. Katrina was right- it was extremely enjoyable. In the taxi back to the hotel Katrina admitted that she was completely beat and just wanted to take a shower and then sleep the evening and night away.

“I’ve got to get some work done, then meet some people for dinner,” I said. “I probably won’t get to bed until midnight.”

“Wow, that sucks,” she said. “But, hey, thanks for going snorkeling with me today. That was a lot of fun. I know it sounds, like, sappy or something, but this whole vacation would have sucked without you. I’d have just been stuck in the hotel, or tagging along with Dad, and that would have royally, well, sucked.”

“I am glad I have been of service, madame,” I said. “It pleases me that I have been able to keep you amused.”

“It pleases me that you have been so amusing,” she said in her best haughty tone, then broke out laughing.

“Lunch tomorrow?” she asked as we passed through the lobby.

“Maybe,” I hedged. “I might have business I have to take care of.”

“You have a car dealership here?”

“No, just coke and gun running,” I said as the elevator doors closed between us.

The shinobi weren’t due until eight the next evening, so I arranged for a handful of us to go out to Tierra Bomba for the day. My crew had been circulating in Cartagena (including the neighborhood of Albornoz, where they’d made contact with quite a few Night Children) but other than that visit with Emmy, we’d left the Island of Bocachica alone. It was time to change that.

The boat that Rafael had found for us was fairly basic, but appeared solid and in good condition, so that was fine. Honestly, it probably set a better tone if we showed up in a working craft than a pleasure boat, anyway. The downside is that it could only take five people besides the captain, so he was going to have to make two trips each way to get our group to the island.

I went first with Ricky and three other guys, while the other four that were going to join us had to wait.

The day was overcast and threatened rain, but the captain assured us that it would wait until evening to come down. Looking down into the water as we slowed to approach the dock, I could see what Emiliano had meant- unlike the day before when it was sunny, you could barely see three feet down. Snorkeling would have been very disappointing under those conditions.

We broke up, Ricky with two of the guys going off to the right and me and Jimena (who went by Jimmy) heading uphill to the lookout point.

“This place reminds me of my old barrio in Tijuana,” Jimmy said as we walked. “Except almost everybody here is black. But the way the houses look? The same.”

“Notice how little trash there is here, though,” I pointed out. “The people who live here keep it pretty clean.”

“Yeah, they do,” she agreed, looking around.

The only ones following us to the viewpoint this time were a couple of young boys, maybe eight years old or so. I guess there just wasn’t much interesting happening in Tierra Bomba, and we were the day’s excitement.

Jimmy spoke to them in Spanish- something about “refrescos”- soft drinks. They indicated we should follow, and they led us to a tiny little store, not really any different than any of the other buildings around it except for the sign painted on the wall above the door.

Jimena bought us a couple of those Colombiana sodas they call ‘kola’, but are a weird yellow color, not brown like normal colas. She bought one for each of the two kids as a sort of ‘thank you,’ lighting up their little faces in delight.

We wandered back to what passed as the main street, then headed north, past the administration building and municipal soccer field, where a vigorous game was being played.

We stopped to watch the game for a few minutes, then wandered on. We started to see signs for the “Bocachica Beach Club” (yes, the signs were in English) as we found ourselves leaving the built-up part of town.

“Look at this,” I said, pointing to a “Se Vende” sign on a six foot masonry wall along the road. We peered through the wrought iron gate into a very large yard, with some buildings on one side but mostly just a lot of weeds. The wall surrounding the place went all the way to the beach and actually a bit into the water, so to go around it at the ends you’d need a boat or be willing to get wet.

“This says ‘resort opportunity’," Jimmy said, looking at the very faded sign.

“Looks like ‘school opportunity’ to me,” I replied. “I could see building this out to be a school and cultural center. Maybe use that little bungalow over there for staff housing…”

“You’re really serious about doing things like that here?” Jimmy asked. “Why didn’t you do anything like that in Tijuana?”

“We only found eight Night Children in Tijuana, that’s why,” I told her. “It was easier to simply bring you all into the US.”

“I guess that makes sense,” she admitted. “But here, there’s what, two hundred?”

“I don’t think anybody knows the exact number, but it’s something like that- maybe more. Way too many to uproot, and besides, they already have a supportive community here. I’m pretty sure that everybody in this town that isn’t a Night Child knows people who are, and they’ve been keeping the secret for a long time- generations.”

“That’s what you meant by saying that the school would be open to day walkers,” Jimmy said, nodding in understanding.

“Yes- these communities need to be rewarded for being allies,” I confirmed.

We continued walking and soon enough arrived at the beach club, which was mostly a collection of palapas next to a wide, white sand beach. There weren’t very many tourists, but the few in attendance had started their day drinking early.

Seeing nothing worth noting, we turned back around and headed for the town again.

“I’d like to figure out some kind of jobs program here,” I told Jimmy as we walked. “Basically, the only work is fishing and working at one of these beach places.”

“What’s wrong with working at the beach resort?” Jimmy asked. “Most of the jobs you give people in the US are waiters or something like that.”

“Yeah, that’s true, but usually at pretty classy places, not…” I started to say, but caught myself. “You know what? I’m being an idiot. There weren’t a lot of tourists there at the beach club, but those that were there were mostly Colombian-looking, right? Those are the people we need to have get used to seeing Night Children, right? American or European tourists don’t matter so much, but folks getting out of Cartagena for the day? That exposure is gold. If the guy mixing their drinks at the bar and offering a friendly smile is blacker than anybody they’ve ever seen…”

With that, I steered Jimmy into a u-turn and we headed back to the beach club. I wanted to talk to the manager at least and see about buying in or maybe even buying out completely.

Jimmy and I were very late to the old folks’ social club for lunch- everybody else in the crew but Ricky had already left. We sat down at the table where he was talking to a couple of the oldsters. I signaled to the waitress, but let Jimmy order for us (after I made sure she knew I didn’t want any seafood).

“Leah es nuestra reina,” I heard Ricky explain. “Su padre fue Niño de Noche.”

“Asi dijo le blanquita,” confirmed the old lady, touching her hair.

Jimmy and I ate our late lunch while Ricky and Jimmy continued to talk with the old folks. I listened in to the best of my abilities, but honestly, my Spanish wasn’t really up to the task.

On the boat ride back to the mainland I told Ricky about the walled compound we’d seen and my conversation with the general manager of the Bocachica Beach Club. I also told him that some Japanese Night Children were coming in that evening and I needed a guy or two and the van.

“The ninjas?” he asked, amazed.

“Yep,” I said. “They want my help for something, so they’ve sent an emissary.”

“That’s fucking huge!” Ricky said. “You’re gonna be the queen of the whole world at this rate!”

“I love your enthusiasm, but you’re getting ahead of yourself. The locals here haven’t even committed, much less the Japanese.”

“Those old Night Children I was talking to? They want in. They said that since Emmy visited, it’s been all anyone can talk about.”

“Then maybe I’m gonna need to buy that beach club,” I said with a smile. Maybe Cartagena was going to work out in our favor after all.

Mrs Tanaka and her granddaughter (who looked to be only fourteen or so, to my surprise) just wanted to eat and then go to sleep when they got in, which was fine. I had no plans for them that night anyhow. After getting them situated in their room at my hotel, I went out to meet with Michael for drinks.

Later, back in my suite, I called Emmy and Angela to say goodnight. We wound up talking on the phone for quite a while, both because I had a lot to tell them, and because I just wanted to hear their voices.

When I told them about the snorkeling trip, Emmy got a bit sad and pensive. She brought up what a disaster our honeymoon in Key West had been, but Angela and I assured her that it was just a lesson to be learned and when we did all manage to go to the Seychelles (or wherever) we’d know what to do to make it work for her.

“What do they call those full-length swimsuits for women? Burkinis?” Angela suggested. “Also, the sun is strongest from ten to two, right? That just means we do our beach stuff in the later afternoon, is all. You use our pool here, after all. Just not in the direct sun in the middle of the day. We just need to be smart about it, Em.”

“Ange is right. Honestly, I would have been O.K. just snorkeling for two hours instead of the what, five hours we did? So we get to the reef at three in the afternoon when the sunlight is already getting weaker, right? Swim for a couple of hours and call it good. I’d be happy with that- I certainly wouldn’t feel ripped off. And, as a bonus, I’d be swimming with you and Ange instead of some Florida party girl I just met,” I said.

“But I would not be swimming naked,” Emmy teased, her mood better.

“Maybe not, but I would. It was actually pretty great,” I told her.

“That’s it!” Angela declared. “Em, we need to go back to Cartagena right now, to save our poor, innocent Leah from those naked Florida party girls!”

“I’m in peril!” I cried, but neither of them got the Monty Python reference.

The next morning I knocked on the Tanakas’ door to walk them to breakfast. Mrs Tanaka was slow to get moving, but her granddaughter Akiko was full of energy.

“This is my first trip outside Japan,” she confided as we waited for the elevator. “I’m very excited to see everything!” she said in her remarkably accent-free English.

“We’re only going to be here in Cartagena for a few more days,” I told her as we rode down to the lobby.

“Then London!” she said, her eyes wide. “What are we going to do in London?”

“Just boring stuff,” I warned her. “I’ll try to set up some time to do tourist things, though.”

Katrina and Emiliano were just finishing their breakfast when we walked in. I gave them a wave, then helped the two Japanese Night Children (who were in makeup) with the Continental breakfast offerings.

“Hey, Leah, who are your friends?” Katrina asked, waving to her dad as he left.

“Katrina, these are some friends of mine from Japan- Mrs Tanaka and her granddaughter Akiko. Ladies, this is Katrina Suárez, from Langley, Virginia.”

Katrina gave me a startled look. “Miami,” she said, correcting me. “Florida.”

“That’s right,” I agreed.

“She is very beautiful,” Akiko translated for her grandma after Katrina had gone.

“She is,” I admitted. “But I think she’s a spy,” I said in a low voice, leaning in to imply confidentiality.

“A spy?” Akiko’s eyes widened in excitement. She quickly spoke to her grandmother, presumably to explain what I’d just said, since Mrs Tanaka frowned and looked in the direction the Suárezes had gone.

“Grandmother asks where are your bodyguards?” Akiko said a little bit later while we ate.

“I don’t have any,” I told her. “I don’t need them- I’m far more dangerous than any bodyguard could be.”

“You certainly are very large,” Akiko agreed. After a bit of translation for her grandmother, Mrs Tanaka nodded.

“She says you have the eyes of a murderer,” Akiko told me. Mrs Tanaka spoke again, and Akiko said, “You could end someone and then eat lunch.”

“I have,” I told Akiko.

After breakfast the three of us went out for a walk to see the walled city. Mrs Akiko was quite spry for someone her age, but an hour in the increasing heat was enough for her so we returned to the hotel to rest. I mentioned that I’d gotten in the habit of swimming in the hotel’s pool before lunch so if they needed me that’s where they could find me.

“I would like to swim, but…” Akiko said, running her finger across her cheek to indicate her makeup.

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that,” I agreed. “I know you needed to wear the makeup to travel- to match your passport pictures, right? You could ditch the makeup here, but it might be better if you don’t in front of Katrina and her father. While we’re in London, though, you should show yourselves.”

“We have talked about it,” Akiko said, indicating her grandmother and herself. “We decided that we would do as you would have us do.”

“Cool,” I said. “If it weren’t for my suspicions about Katrina and her father, I’d say clean it off now. But we’re going to take off for London in just a few days- In London and Los Angeles, you can show yourselves off to the world.”

Katrina was sunbathing by the pool when I went down to swim. When she saw me, she patted the chaise next to hers.

“You ghosted me yesterday!” she complained with an exaggerated pout.

“I told you I had things I had to do,” I told her as I set my towel down. Glancing at her, I said, “That one-piece is a lot tamer than your bikini.”

“And much tamer than me without!” she said with a wink. “But no, like I said, Dad would have a heart attack if he saw me in that little two-piece. But this,” she said, pulling the spandex away from her skin so I could see down underneath it, “is tan-through.”

Understanding what she meant to show me, I saw that the material really didn’t cast much, if any shade on the top of her boob.

“And anyway, it’s not like you have any real tan lines, either,” she said. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“Like I said, I tan and swim naked at home in LA,” I told her as I strapped on my goggles.

“So, like, you’re just gonna jump in the pool and not be sociable?” Katrina asked.

“Yup,” I said with a smirk as I walked down the pool’s steps.

When I emerged an hour later, I saw that Akiko was watching from one of the tables shaded by a big patio umbrella. I made my way over to say hello, curious as to why she’d be there in the heat.

“You said you swim before lunch,” she said when I got to her table. “I didn’t realize that you meant that you swim and swim and swim forever.”

“It’s been pretty much the only exercise I’ve gotten here,” I said with a shrug. “On a normal day back home I’d spend three or fours a day in the gym.”

“It shows,” she said, looking me up and down.

That evening I took the two Tanakas to dinner at the restaurant in Albornoz run by the little old Night Child woman who’d decided to forgo the makeup. We were accompanied by Michael and Ricky- the most we could fit in the four-door Nissan pickup that Rafael had found for us. Sure, we could have brought more in the van, but that restaurant was small and we didn’t want to overwhelm the place.

During dinner I explained to the two Japanese ladies that the local Night Children community was a bit like their own- we’d had no idea they existed, and stumbled across them by accident. My people were there to integrate the locals into the larger worldwide society and to assess what we could do to help them.

Translating for her grandmother, Akiko asked, “Are you conquering them?”

“What? No!” I replied with a laugh. “If they want to join my nation I’d be happy to welcome them, but it’s entirely their own choice. I do want them to be proud of their heritage and to show their skin to the world, but I don’t force anybody into it.”

“My grandmother and I came here for two things,” Akiko explained. “The first, to see how the ‘Night Children’, as you call them, live outside of Japan. To see if what you said in Tokyo is true.” Akiko turned and talked with her grandma for a bit, then continued. “We would like to speak with some of the Night Children here, alone. We were sent to verify your claims, so we need to check to make sure they are true.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “Unfortunately, none of the locals are likely to speak Japanese. I know at least one- who really doesn’t seem impressed by us, I have to say- who speaks English, but she’s over on a nearby island.” Turning to Ricky, I asked, “Do you know the woman I’m talking about? Over in Tierra Bomba?”

“I think her name is Carmiña,” he said. “I talked to her a bit the other day. But, like you said, she’s not…”

“That’s fine. Mrs Tanaka wants to hear from a Night Child who isn’t one of my people, right?” I asked Akiko. “So if you get to talk to one who is somewhat hostile to our efforts here you’ll get that side of the picture. She might tell you that we’re unwanted imperialists who have no business here, since that seems to be her opinion, but she’ll also tell you that we haven’t coerced anybody into anything. In fact, talking to her and then visiting the social club over there might be really worthwhile. I’ll have Ricky take you over there tomorrow.”

“You aren’t going to come with us?” Akiko asked.

“It defeats the purpose if I’m there, doesn’t it?” I countered.