The Choice (13 page)
“Stephanie tells me you’re a world traveler.”
“I’ve traveled a bit.”
“She made it sound like more than that. Like you’ve pretty much been everywhere.”
He shook his head. “I wish. Believe me, there are lots of places I haven’t seen.”
“What’s been your favorite place?”
He took a while to answer, a wistful expression on his face. “I don’t know.”
“Well . . . where would you suggest I go?”
“It’s not like that,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“Traveling has less to do with seeing things than experiencing them. . . .” He surveyed the water, gathering his thoughts. “Let me put it this way. When I graduated from college, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, so I just decided to take a year to see the world. I had a bit of money saved—not as much as I thought I needed—but I packed some gear and my bike and caught a flight to Europe. I spent the first three months there just . . . doing whatever I felt like, and it rarely had anything to do with what I was supposed to see. I didn’t even have a planned itinerary. Don’t get me wrong—I saw a lot. But when I think back on those months, I mostly remember the friends I made along the way and the good times we spent together. Like in Italy, I saw the Colosseum in Rome and the canals in Venice, but what I really remember was a weekend I spent in Bari—this out-of-the-way city in the southern part of the country that you’ve probably never heard of—with some Italian students I happened to meet. They took me to this little bar where a local band was playing, and even though most of them didn’t speak a word of English and my Italian was limited to menu items, we ended up laughing all night long. After that, they showed me around Lecce and Matera, and little by little, we became good friends. Same type of thing in France and Norway and Germany. I stayed in hostels when I had to, but most of the time I’d just show up in a city and somehow meet someone who would offer to let me stay with them for a little while. I’d find odd jobs to pick up extra spending money, and when I was ready for someplace new, I’d just take off. At first, I thought it was easy because Europe and America are a lot alike. But the same thing happened when I went to Syria and Ethiopia and South Africa and Japan and China. At times, it almost felt like I was destined to take the trip, like all the people I met had somehow been waiting for me. But . . .”
He paused, looking directly at her.
“But I’m different now than I was then. Just like I was different at the end of the trip than I’d been at the beginning. And I’ll be different tomorrow than I am today. And what that means is that I can never replicate that trip. Even if I went to the same places and met the same people, it wouldn’t be the same. My
experience
wouldn’t be the same. To me, that’s what traveling should be about. Meeting people, learning to not only appreciate a different culture, but really enjoy it like a local, following whatever impulse strikes you. So how could I recommend a trip to someone else, if I don’t even know what to expect? My advice would be to make a list of places on some index cards, shuffle them, and pick any five at random. Then just . . . go and see what happens. If you have the right mind-set, it doesn’t matter where you end up or how much money you brought. It’ll be something you’ll remember forever.”
Gabby was silent as she digested this. “Wow,” she finally said.
“What?”
“You make it sound so . . . romantic.”
In the ensuing quiet, Stephanie began to slow the boat and Travis sat up straighter. When his sister glanced at him, he nodded and stood up. Stephanie lowered the throttle, allowing the boat to slow even further.
“We’re ready,” he said, and moved to a storage box. Pulling out the parachute, he asked, “Are you up for a new experience?”
Gabby swallowed. “I can’t wait.”
O
nce the parachute was filled and harnesses strapped on, Joe and Megan lifted off first, followed by Allison and Laird, then Matt and Liz. One by one, the couples sat on the platform and were lifted into the air, the tow rope unwinding until they were a hundred feet up. From Gabby’s spot on the boat, they looked small and inconsequential as they drifted over the water. Travis, who’d taken the wheel from Stephanie, kept the boat at a steady speed, making large, wide turns, then finally brought the boat to a gradual halt, allowing the riders to drift toward the sea. Just as their feet grazed the water, he’d gun the throttle, and the chute would rush skyward like a kite being pulled by a boy running in the park.
Everyone was chattering as they reached the platform, talking about the fish or dolphins they’d seen, but Gabby nonetheless felt herself growing nervous as her turn approached. Stephanie, splayed out in her bikini, was working on her tan and nursing a beer in the front of the boat. She raised the beer in salute.
“Here’s getting to know you, kid.”
Travis tossed aside his baseball cap. “C’mon,” he said to Gabby, “I’ll help you with your harness.”
After stepping off the platform, Liz handed over the life preserver.
“It’s so much fun,” she said. “You’re going to love it.”
Travis led Gabby to the platform. After hopping up, he bent over, offering a hand. She could feel the warmth in it as he helped her up. The harness lay crumpled, and he pointed toward two open loops.
“Step in those and pull it up. I’ll tighten it for you.”
She held her body steady against the tugs of the canvas straps. “That’s it?”
“Almost. When you sit on the platform, keep the wide strap under your thighs. You don’t want it under your . . . backside, because that doesn’t support your weight as well. And you might want to take off your shirt, unless you don’t mind getting it wet.”
She slipped off her shirt, trying not to feel nervous.
If Travis noticed her self-consciousness, he gave no sign. Instead, he hooked up the straps of her harness to the bar, then his own, then motioned for her to sit.
“It’s under your thighs, right?” Travis asked. When she nodded, he smiled. “Just relax and enjoy, okay?”
A second later, Joe pushed the throttle, the chute filled, and Gabby and Travis were lifted from the deck. In the boat, she felt everyone’s eyes on them as they rose diagonally toward the sky. Gabby gripped the canvas straps so hard that her knuckles turned white while the boat grew smaller. In time, the tow rope to the boat captured her attention like a hypnotic decoy. It quickly felt as if she were a whole lot higher than anyone else had been, and she was about to say something when she felt Travis touch her shoulder.
“Look over there!” he said, pointing. “There’s a ray! Can you see it?”
She saw it, black and sleek, moving beneath the surface like a slow-motion butterfly.
“And a pod of dolphins! Over there! Near the banks!”
As she marveled at the sight, her nervousness started to subside. Instead, she began to soak in the view of everything below—the town, the families sprawled on the beaches, the boats, the water. As she relaxed, she found herself thinking that she could probably spend an hour up here without ever growing tired of it. It was extraordinary to drift along at this elevation, coasting effortlessly on a wind current, as if she were a bird. Despite the heat, the breeze kept her cool, and as she rocked her feet back and forth, she felt the harness sway.
“Are you willing to be dipped?” he asked. “I promise it’ll be fun.”
“Let’s do it,” she agreed. To her ears, her voice sounded strangely confident.
Travis engaged Joe in a quick series of hand signals, and beneath her, the whine of the boat suddenly diminished. The parachute began to descend. Staring at the rapidly approaching water, she scanned the surface to make sure nothing was lurking below.
The parachute dipped lower and lower, and though she lifted her legs, she felt cold water splash on her lower body. Just when she thought she was going to have to start treading water, the boat accelerated and they shot skyward again. Gabby felt adrenaline surge through her body and didn’t bother trying to hide her grin.
Travis nudged her. “See? It wasn’t bad at all.”
“Can we do that again?” she asked.
Travis and Gabby rode for another quarter hour, dipping two or three more times; once they were brought back to the boat, each couple rode once more. By then, the sun was high in the sky and the kids were getting fussy. Travis steered the boat toward the cove at Cape Lookout. The water grew shallow, and Travis stopped the boat; Joe tossed the anchor overboard, removed his shirt, and followed the anchor into the water. The water was waist-deep, and with practiced ease, Matt handed him a cooler. Matt took off his shirt and jumped in; Joe handed him a cooler, then followed him into the water while Travis took his place. When Travis jumped in, he carried a small, portable grill and bag of charcoal briquettes. Simultaneously, the mothers hopped in the water and took hold of the kids. In minutes, only Stephanie and Gabby remained on board. Gabby stood in the back of the boat, thinking she should have helped, while Stephanie, seemingly oblivious to the commotion, lay sprawled on the seats at the front of the boat, continuing to collect the sun.
“I’m on vacation, so I feel no need to volunteer my services,” Stephanie announced, her body as still as the boat itself. “And they’re so good at it, I feel no guilt about being a slacker.”
“You’re not a slacker.”
“Of course I am. Everyone should be a slacker now and then. As Confucius once said, ‘He who does nothing is the one who does nothing.’”
Gabby pondered the words, then furrowed her brow. “Did Confucius really say that?”
Sunglasses in place, Stephanie managed the tiniest of shrugs. “No, but who cares? The point is, they had it handled, and most likely they found some sort of self-satisfaction in their industriousness. Who am I to deprive them of that?”
Gabby put her hands on her hips. “Or maybe you just wanted to be lazy.”
Stephanie grinned. “Like Jesus said, ‘Blessed are the lazy who lie in boats, for they shall inherit a suntan.’”
“Jesus didn’t say that.”
“True,” Stephanie agreed, sitting up. She removed her glasses, stared through them, then wiped them on a towel. “But again, who cares?” She squinted up at Gabby. “Did you really want to carry coolers or tents all the way to the beach? Trust me, the experience is overrated.” After adjusting her top, she rose from her spot. “Okay, the coast is clear. We’re good to go.” She slung her beach bag over her shoulder. “You gotta know when to be lazy. Done correctly, it’s an art form that benefits everyone.”
Gabby hesitated. “I don’t know why, but I think I like the way you think.”
Stephanie laughed. “Of course you do,” she said. “It’s human nature to be lazy. But it’s good to know I’m not the only one who understands that essential truth.”
As soon as Gabby started to deny it, Stephanie jumped overboard, the splash rising to the lip of the boat. “C’mon,” she said, not letting Gabby finish, “I’m just kidding. And by the way, don’t think twice about anything you did or didn’t do. Like I said, these people draw meaning from doing these little things. It makes them feel manly and motherly, which is just the way the world
should
work. As single women, all we have to do is make sure to enjoy it.”
Setting up the camp—like getting off and unloading the boat—was informally ritualized, with everyone apparently knowing exactly what to do. A pop-up tent was set in place, blankets spread, and the charcoal lit. In keeping with her inactivity on the boat, Stephanie simply grabbed a beer and a towel, picked a spot, and resumed sunbathing. Gabby, unsure of what else to do, spread her towel and did exactly the same thing. She felt the effects of the sun almost immediately and lay there trying to ignore the fact that everyone else—aside from Stephanie—seemed to be doing something.
“You need lotion,” Stephanie instructed her. Without raising her head, she pointed to the bag she’d carried with her. “Grab the tube with fifty SPF. With that pale skin of yours, you’ll be a lobster in half an hour if you don’t. It’s got zinc in it.”
Gabby reached for Stephanie’s bag. She took a few moments to spread the lotion; the sun did have a terrible way of punishing her if she missed a spot. Unlike her sisters or her mother, she’d taken after her Irish-skinned father. It was one of the middling curses of her life.
When she was ready, she lay down on her towel, still feeling guilty about the fact that she wasn’t doing anything to help set up or get the lunch ready to go.
“How was it with Travis?”
“Fine,” Gabby said.
“Just to remind you, he’s my brother, you know.”
Gabby turned her head to shoot Stephanie a questioning look.
“Hey,” said Stephanie, “I was only reminding you so that you’d realize how well I know him.”
“What does that matter?”
“I think he likes you.”
“And I think you believe we’re still in seventh grade.”
“What? You don’t care?”
“No.”
“Because you have a boyfriend?”
“Among other reasons.”
Stephanie laughed. “Oh, that’s good. If I didn’t know you, I might have even believed you.”
“You don’t know me!”
“Oh . . . I know you. Believe it or not, I know exactly who you are.”
“Oh yeah? Where am I from?”
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me about my family.”
“I can’t.”
“Then you really don’t know me, do you?”
After a moment, Stephanie rolled over to face her. “Yes,” she said, “I do.” She couldn’t hide the challenge in her tone. “Okay, how about this? You’re a good girl and always have been, but deep down, you think there’s more to life than always following the rules, and there’s a part of you that craves the unknown. If you’re honest with yourself, Travis is part of that. You’re selective when it comes to sex, but once you commit to someone, the standards you would normally hold yourself to go out the window. You think you’ll marry your boyfriend, but can’t help but wonder why you don’t have a ring on your finger yet. You love your family, but you wanted to make your own decisions about who you become, which is why you live here. Even so, you worry your choices will earn your family’s disapproval. How am I doing so far?”