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“Must be all this tropical air, and the beautiful sights,” I said to her, my gaze too intense to leave any confusion as to what beautiful sights I was focused upon.
She laughed again, her eyes sparkling as we pulled into what looked to be a farm. She seemed a bit surprised by that, but quickly recovered, standing up just in front of me and stretching enough that I could see her belly button beneath her red blouse.
“This is our first stop for the day, to meet a local tobacco farmer,” she announced to the bus, then gave me a personal smile.
My head was abuzz but she was already bounding off the bus, ready to give the tour.
The entire way to the hotel, in between the stops, she always found her way back to me, her hand resting atop my leg. I certainly wasn’t complaining.
But night was falling, and the rest of the crowd were tired by the time we pulled up to the hotel, nestled in the jungle. The trip up the hill had been... rocky, and before I knew it, Isabel had been gripping my bicep for dear life and she was hesitant to let go even though we were parked.
“We’re here,” she breathed out, forcing herself to stand, and look at the others.
“There’s a buffet meal you’re all welcome to, and a disco just down at the left for evening entertainment,” she announced, the last part directed to me.
I waited until she got off, leaving me the last person off the bus.
I followed behind her, speaking to her quietly as the others rushed to the buffet.
“You look like a dancer,” I said, full of warmth. “You have the look of a woman who can really cut-a-rug with the best of them,” and I immediately felt dumb about that remark. Not only was it dated, but I wasn’t sure she’d get the reference either.
The language barrier was a finicky thing, after all, but though her brows furrowed, it seemed she grasped the warm intention rather than the literal confusion.
“I teach,” she said with a pause, “Salsa. On the weekends, as exercise.”
She slowly began guiding me towards the restaurant. “Do you dance?”
I followed along with her, having to pace myself, my long stride so easily overtaking hers even at a casual pace.
“I’ve been known to in my day,” I smiled and tried not to let on that my day was now years behind me. It’d been ages since I last danced. “Could use a nice refresher,” I said casually, getting the door for her.
“I am told that I am a very good teacher,” she said as she walked through, her flirty dress caressing against my pant legs as she went towards the buffet. “I will see you tonight for your first lesson.”
I couldn’t help but stare a while, until finally some tourist with a vastly over-filled plate needed me to shove out of the way.
When night came, I was surprised by its beauty. The stars above lit the jungle sky, while all around I could see the towering trees, vines and flowers lit by the moon. The little lizards of the day replaced by crickets the size of mice!
I left my room, a pair of shiny black shoes on, polished up nicely for the evening, and a freshly pressed pair of pants, a shirt and jacket from my luggage. I wasn’t about to go in looking like a schlep after all.
Good thing I had packed a wide variety of outfits.
It wasn’t immediately evident where the disco was, because it was kept tucked away from the resort rooms, so as to not let the noise bother the guests. But once I rounded the right corner, the music called me to it.
It built such anticipation in th
e air, the sound beckoning me closer, drawing me in with its sweet, warm sound. Wanting me in its embrace.
It was beautiful, and when I finally opened the door and let the sounds flood out into me, there was a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in a long time. The dancing bodies, the glowing lights, all flashed about me as laughter rose into the air.
And there was Isabel, dancing with some local, it looked like. She was gorgeous, spinning about and smiling that crooked smile.
It was enchanting, and I was content to just watch for the moment until she caught my eye, and her finger beckoned me closer.
Truth be told, I was a pretty good dancer in my college years, but that was well behind me. By this point all I had going for me were the nice shoes and clothing.
“Impossible to miss you on the dance floor,” I remarked to her as I made my way to her, trying to loosen myself up and move with the music, mimic the Latin moves of the local dancers. I was surprised my body was limber enough to even begin to impersonate them!
But I guess part of it came easy. Once the rhythm is in the air and touches your body, you get wrapped up in it.
