Chapter 6

The sounds of the cleaning crew banging mops against the sides of metal buckets and chattering in Thai woke me from a dreamless sleep on Saturday morning. They clattered through the hallway oblivious to the people sleeping behind the closed doors. I stretched my arms over my head and stared at a stain creeping across the ceiling. Avi--all I wanted was to see him.

The service at Chabad started at ten o’clock. The time on my watch read eight-thirty. Plenty of time to shower, dress, and walk over. I shook my head. As much as I wanted to see him, I couldn’t bring myself to sit through more prayers chanted in Hebrew. I pulled on my sneakers, stuffed some cash in my pocket, and headed to Starbucks.

With Avi paying for my meals over the last few days, my spending was under budget. I paid for the coffee and walked toward the beach. It was too early for vendors, and most of the shops opened after eleven. I pulled off my sneakers and stepped off the sidewalk into the sand.

Even at this early hour, the sand felt warm against the bottoms of my feet. I crunched my toes, enjoying the silky sensation. If I had a camera, it would have been a perfect time to shoot pictures. A couple of surfers sat side-by-side waiting to catch the perfect wave, and only a handful of people meandered along the surf’s edge.

In the distance, a few preteens scuttled around the shoreline, scooping up objects and brandishing them for their friends to see. Every summer, when Jack and I were kids, our parents packed up our old station wagon and drove eight hours to spend a week in Ocean City, New Jersey. The New Jersey weather didn’t always match our vacation dreams, but this didn’t matter to Jack. If no lightning lit the sky, he’d plunge into the water and body surf. I preferred a more sedate activity, combing the beach in search of the treasures the ocean deposited on the sand.

At the end of the day, we walked with our parents to one of the local family-style restaurants. Restaurants in this beach town didn’t take reservations, so we always had to wait for seating. As we stood in line, Jack would prattle and use body motions to describe his conquest of the “ginormous waves.” My fear of dropping my dream-evoking treasures onto the sidewalk made me wait until we were inside the restaurant and seated before pulling them from my pocket and presenting them like a major archeological find. If I could have traveled back to a time in my life, it would have been those days in the sun. I swiped at the tears flooding my eyes and marched to the surf.

After walking for miles along the water’s edge, I noticed the shops opposite the beach were beginning to open their doors. I decided to take the retail route home. The smell of incense accosted my nose when I entered the first store. Its wares, gold Buddhas of all sizes, hand-carved wooden elephants, and screen-printed T-shirts, featuring the word Thailand splashed across the front, appeared to be carbon copies of the souvenirs sold in Chiang Mai and Bangkok.

The window of a tiny shop next to the souvenir superstore displayed jewelry made from polished stones. I walked inside. A Thai woman with a sweet smile and long black hair greeted me at the door. She escorted me around the shop, lifting exotic stone and silver necklaces and bracelets from glass cases. She spoke no English, but using arm gestures, she signaled for me to follow her to a small work area. There she demonstrated how she used a rock tumbler to polish the stones. I picked up a necklace made from small green and black stones that was lying on her work table and using the best sign language I could come up with, I told her that I wanted to buy it. She stood on her toes and hooked it around my neck. “Two hundred Baht.”

After I paid her, I placed my hands together in front of my heart and bowed.

My final stop before returning to my room was the 7-Eleven to find Lek a Saturday morning treat.

***

I walked over to the Chabad House at seven o’clock, just as the sun began to set over the beach. Orrie, the burly guard, buzzed me in. I didn’t see Avi anywhere, but Gitte sat at a corner table, holding the baby, watching her other two children run around the room. We sat together and chatted about Thailand, kids, and the homesickness she sometimes felt. While we spoke, she let me hold Levi. She was explaining to me that her older son’s only playmates were the tourist children who passed through, when Avi appeared in the doorway, once again, dressed in skinny jeans and a white T-shirt.

“Hi,” he said, planting a kiss on my cheek, again surprising me that he would kiss me in front of Gitte.

“The Havdalah service is starting in ten minutes. Can you stay?” Gitte asked.

Avi looked at me, expecting me to respond to her request. “Sure, we’ll stay.”

The Havdalah service marked the end of the Sabbath. It was lovely and short. By eight o’clock, Avi and I were wandering the streets of Patong. “Hungry?” he asked.

“A little. Do you want to go back to Chabad and eat?”

“What I really want is a pizza and a beer.”

I nodded rapidly. “Awesome. Except for the beer. I’ll stick to wine.”

He recommended a restaurant owned by a couple of Israelis who learned to make pizza in New York. When we entered the restaurant, the owner rushed to greet Avi, hugging him like a long-lost brother. “Julie, this is the Patong Beach pizza master, Yossi.”

Yossi clasped both my hands. “A friend of Avi’s is a friend of mine.” He released my hands and crooked his finger. “Follow me, pretty lady.” Avi trailed behind as he led us to a table in the back corner. “Cozy and quiet.” He pulled out my chair and using an arm flourish, he indicated for me to sit.

“Thank you.” I sat down. He flipped open the paper napkin, placed it on my lap, and pushed in my chair. “B’tayavon.” He turned and began gesturing and shouting in Hebrew, at the waitress.

“He’s sweet,” I said to Avi.

“I wouldn’t care if he were meaner than a wild boar. He makes an amazing Margherita pizza.” As Avi finished his sentence, the young Israeli waitress approached the table. Her cheeks appeared flushed as she chewed on her bottom lip. Her hands appeared to shake a bit as Avi spoke to her in Hebrew. The only words I understood were the Hebrew words for red wine, “yayin adom” and Heineken, which is the same in all languages.

“The waitress sure looked nervous. Are we scary looking?”

“No, maybe it’s her first day. I hope you don’t mind, I ordered a large pizza and salads.”

“Works for me.” I pushed the menu aside and gaze into his eyes. For a few minutes, I half listened as he described something about the dough rising better if a certain type of yeast is used and how New York City water is perfect for pizza dough.

“You’re awfully quiet. Hungry or thinking?” he asked.

“A little of both.” I fidgeted with the fork. “I wish I wasn’t booked on this tour tomorrow. I’d cancel it, but Shai said it’s a great tour, and I’d hate to lose all the money.”

“Go, you’ll love it. I told you, the lake is worth the price.”

His eyes shone in the dim light of the restaurant. I tried to understand how I could look at them from across the table and feel like I’ve known him forever, but when we stood, face-to-face, my brain waves frazzled, and my body wanted to devour him.

“Can I take this desire not to go as an indication that you’ve grown slightly attached to me?”

“No,” I smirked. “I just hate packing.”

He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “You’re right. The stress of packing an entire backpack for an overnight trip is debilitating.”

“You know, you’re a smart ass.”

“Then tell the truth.” He moved forward, closing the space between his face and mine. “You’ve grown a little attached.”

“Yes, I’ve grown a little attached. I come back on Monday evening, and you fly out Tuesday morning and...”

“And, what?”

I bit my bottom lip as the waitress placed our drinks on the table.

“And what?” He lifted the beer to his mouth but stopped before drinking it. “I’m waiting for an answer.”

And, it would be the last time I ever saw him. What could I say? I’ll miss you. I don’t want whatever it is we’re doing to end. The thought of never kissing you again makes me physically ill. The only response I managed to give him was a shrug.

“I’ll be at the hostel waiting for you on Monday evening. We’ll just have to make the most of the time we have.”

I nodded, ashamed that my eyes, once again, teared up. He reached for my hand. “It’ll be okay, Julie.”

After the pizza, we walked the beach for a couple of hours, never running out of topics for conversation. We moved from the beach to a small side street and walked into the quietest bar we could find. Avi waved over the bartender and ordered our drinks in Thai.

A few moments later, the bartender set the beer and the wine cooler in front of Avi, ignoring me completely. “Guess I didn’t make a good impression on him,” I said, reaching for the bottle. Before I could clasp it, Avi caught my hand and lifted it to his lips. The smile on my face couldn’t come close to revealing the sweetness I felt inside.

“So, tell me, what’s a nice girl like you doing in a crazy place like Thailand?”

I sipped the wine cooler and then set it back on the teak wood bar. “It’s such a long story.”

He leaned against the back of the bar stool. “They have lots of beer and wine coolers, and I have time and money. So, tell me the story.”

I rolled the damp bottle between my palms. “One morning Lehman Brothers collapsed, rendering me unemployed. That same afternoon, my brother was killed in a car accident. I moved back home and couldn’t bear to wake up every morning to the pain in my father’s eyes. So, I made the decision to run away from my life.”

He reached for my hand. “That doesn’t tell me how you ended up in a Thai bar, drinking wine coolers with an Israeli guy.”

“The company where Jack worked provided him with a life insurance policy. He named me as the beneficiary. It wasn’t a huge amount of money, but enough to keep me afloat while I hunted for a new job. But as you know, the whole banking industry collapsed. Many people with decades of more experience than me struggled to find jobs that no longer seemed to exist.” I took a swig from the bottle. “Forgive me in advance if my tear ducts start watering. I lost all control over them that day and haven’t regained it yet.”

He leaned over and kissed me sweetly. “Your tear ducts earned the right to turn on at any time.”

“I found a part-time job in a small book store. It became my escape from an apartment where Jack’s face haunted me from around every corner.” I stopped for a moment and inhaled. “Between the insurance, unemployment, and the book store, I managed to stay afloat in New York for a year and a half. Then I flew back to Pittsburgh to live with my father until I found a real job.”

“Okay, I know you’re starting a job on September first, but you still didn’t tell me why you’re here, in Thailand.”

“The day I was scheduled to fly home, there was a two-hour flight delay. At the airport, a newlywed couple sat down across from me. They were leafing through a travel book. I could see some of the pictures. From their conversation, I gathered they were on their way to Thailand for their honeymoon.”

He waved to the bartender for another beer and wine cooler.

“A picture of Patong Beach hung on the wall of Jack’s room,” I continued. “A few years before he died he went on a Birthright trip and fell in love with the Israeli soldier assigned to guard their group. Jack claimed she was the most beautiful girl he ever saw, and they were made for each other. He dreamed of travelling to Thailand with her, preferably on a honeymoon. When I boarded the plane, I opened the inflight magazine to an article about Thailand. The picture beside the article was almost the exact same shot of Patong that hung on Jack’s wall. I did something I never did before. I ripped the picture from the magazine and stuffed it into my bag.”

His gaze fixed on my face. Part of me wanted to stop talking, but another part longed to tell the story. “My mom died six years ago. Most of my father died with her. Jack’s death pushed him into a black abyss. Next to my mother, Jack was his everything. They did the whole sports thing together. He even named him after his favorite golfer, Jack Nicholas. Every morning I’d look into my father’s eyes and read his thoughts. It would have been better if he lost me--not Jack. He could survive without me, not without Jack.” I swiped at my tears with the back of my hand as Avi leaned over and wrapped his arms around me.

“I don’t believe that.”

I shrugged. “Jack was his pride and best friend.” I twirled the sweating bottle in my hands. “Well, after I received the job offer with the extended start date, I knew I couldn’t bear looking into my father’s eyes every morning and every evening. I convinced myself that Jack would be happy if I spent some of the insurance money on an adventure instead of on boring rent and utilities. One morning, after my dad left for work, I clicked on Travelocity and booked a ticket.” I lifted my arms and flipped my hands outward. “Hence, I’m sitting here with you, depressing the hell out of this evening.”

“No, you’re not. I just wish I could take away your pain.” He pulled me close. “I told you, we’re bashert--totally meant to be together.”

“That’s what Jack called his Israeli girlfriend--his bashert. And I feel awful that I cannot remember the girl’s name.”

The bartender took away our bottles and told us to leave. He wanted to close and go home, practically pushed us out the door. We walked hand-in-hand toward the hostel, our non-stop conversation diminished to silence.

He led me to my reading bench in front of the hostel. We sat down, and he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. High off his scent, I ran my finger along his perfectly positioned cheekbones before placing my palms on the plains of his cheeks. The moment he slid his hand under my shirt and up my back, every part of my body screamed with desire.

“I guess it’s time for me to go,” he whispered in my ear.

I knew exactly what I wanted. I pulled back and gazed into the eyes I’d become completely addicted to. “I don’t have coffee, beer, or wine in my room, so I can’t invite you in for a drink,” I said softly, stroking his cheek. “But, I do have a bed. If you’re interested, I’m inviting you into that.”

“Let’s go.” He grabbed my hand, sprang from the bench, and pulled me along faster than my feet could move.

***

The alarm on my watch beeped, shocking me out of the deepest sleep. I opened my eyes and found I was alone in my bed and in the room--no Avi. My body still tingled from the night before. My fantasies paled next to the reality of being with him. I stretched my arms, pointed my toes and smiled.

His clothes that littered the floor when we fell asleep were missing. I figured he went to the bathroom and watched the door for five minutes, anxious for his return.

Last night, he fell asleep before me. I stared at his beautiful face as his breath became slow and rhythmic, positive he would be next to me when I woke up. I pulled on my shorts and T-shirt and walked into the communal bathroom. The only person inside was a tall blonde girl hunched over the low sink, brushing her teeth. Maybe he snuck out to get coffee. The girl moved from the sink. I stepped forward, pulled my toothbrush from my bag, squeezed out some tooth paste, and smiled. Yes, coffee, I felt confident that he would come back holding two steaming cups.

When I returned to my room, it was still empty. I sat cross-legged on the bed, still positive he’d return. The numbers on my watch moved forward. After a half hour, I knew he wasn’t coming back--no goodbye, no kisses, no note, and no plan for getting together when I returned. My heart cracked in my chest, unable to comprehend that I misjudged him so badly.

Dejection pinned my body to the bed, but the sun’s rays, speckling the gray tiled floor with light reminded me that the van picking me up for my jungle trip would arrive in less than an hour. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and collapsed forward, crushing my forehead against my knees. How could I let myself be used?

The alarm on my watch started to buzz. “Shut the hell up!” I grabbed it, shut off the damn alarm, and threw it onto the bed. I came to Thailand with a mission and let him distract me. How stupid. I remembered all of Jack’s “men are pigs” speeches. But most of all, I remembered one of his last lectures. It was about a guy I’d been dating for eight months...

***

“Jules,” Jack said, pouring coffee into his oversized mug. “Kevin eats dinner here at least twice a week. He goes to bed with you, but never wakes up here. I hate to tell you this, but he’s not that into you. If he really liked you, he’d be drinking coffee with you in the morning.”

I pulled my bagel from the toaster and smeared it with peanut butter. “Of course, he doesn’t stay. If he stayed, he’d have to wake up at four a.m., rush home, shower, dress, and hope to make it to work on time.”

“Your lame explanation could be cured if he packed a bag in the morning, carried it to work, and brought it with him for dinner. Stop making up excuses for the loser.”

“Shut up--he’s a nice guy. I like him.”

“For someone so smart, sometimes you’re really blind.” Jack shook his head. “I’m telling you, if he really liked you, you’d have to push him out of bed, and if you got out, he’d pull you back in.” Jack set the cup on our small kitchen table and sat down. “Dump him, Jules, you can do so much better. Any guy who doesn’t spend the night is avoiding something, and, most likely, it’s a commitment. Besides, the jerk isn’t even Jewish.”

I ignored his speech, but a month after we lost our jobs, Kevin moved home to Kentucky, after informing me that he wasn’t into the relationship enough to take me with him.

***

I gathered together my shower supplies and sulked to the bathroom, which, fortunately, was empty. As the water poured down on my head, tears streamed down my cheeks. How did I not see through Avi? He talked, but never revealed any details about his life. Now, I understood his game, leave no trail of information. What did he think I would do, stalk him back to Israel? Stupid me. I shut off the water, toweled dry, and got dressed.

Back in the room, I stuffed my belongings into my backpack, locked the door, and scowled all the way to the lobby. A Russian speaking couple now occupied the sofa that Avi sat on while he waited for me to shower the morning after our first date. A group of rowdy backpackers, including the blond girl from the bathroom, sat on the lobby steps, fidgeting and laughing. I dropped my backpack to the floor and collapsed into an over-stuffed chair. The van was due at seven thirty, a ten-minute wait.

Within minutes, a white shuttle pulled into the governor’s drive. The clipboard wielding driver entered the open-air lobby and began shouting names. The backpackers followed him. The Russian man approached the driver who shook his head and pointed to his watch. The Russian man returned to his companion, wearing a look of disappointment. He knew nothing about disappointment. Do not cry. Do not cry. Damn tears formed anyway. If I hadn’t slept with him, I could have just said goodbye and left Thailand with a few pleasant memories.

Outside, the sun dangled in a cloudless sky. It was early enough in the day that the heat didn’t feel oppressive--another perfect day in this tropical paradise. A truck carrying a load of workers to a job site stopped at the red light in front of the hostel. Reggae music blared from their radio. My heart beat like a metronome, rhythmic, and flat. Where were the gray, rainy Pittsburgh skies when you needed them?

Fifteen minutes later, another van pulled up. This driver rushed into the lobby, shouting my name. I slung my backpack over my shoulder, raised my hand. “Right here.”

He placed a small check mark in front of my name and tucked the clipboard under his arm. “Hurry, we’re behind schedule.”

As I approached the van, I could see through the windows that it was already full. I’d have to share a seat. Please don’t let me get stuck next to someone who wants to talk. My misery did not crave company.

The driver opened the door, and I climbed the steps. The first two rows were full. My eyes widened. My heart started pounding. What the hell? Avi sat in the back row, leaning against the window, grinning like a little boy opening a Hanukkah present, his blue eyes flashing.

“Do you want the window or the aisle?” he asked, as I maneuvered toward him.

“What the hell?” I repeated.

“Sorry for not saying goodbye, but you looked so pretty and so peaceful I couldn’t wake you. I can’t believe I fell asleep. I sprinted home, and you know how I feel about running. How do you do it? Anyway, good morning.” He pulled me into the seat and kissed me.

“What the hell?”

“Remember on Friday, we went to Chabad before our shopping trip?”

“Yeah.”

“When you told me that you were booked on this trip, I knew what I had to do. I went upstairs and called Shai. He leaves early on Friday. I needed to catch him before he left the office. Luckily, he still had your complete itinerary in his system and booked me on the exact same trip. Only I didn’t anticipate last night. So, we’re staying in the jungle tonight, but in separate cabins. I think we can work around that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“And miss seeing that look on your face.” He shook his head. “No way.” He skimmed his finger down my cheek and over my lips.

“What if something happened between Friday afternoon and today, and you didn’t want to see me?” I asked.

“That wasn’t happening.”

“What if I didn’t want to see you?”

“I wasn’t going to let that happen. Bashert, remember.” He squeezed my hand, lifted it, and placed it against his heart.

My head still spun, upset he left me and shocked that he was here. I half listened as he talked about the trip and the lake. Even though the circumstances were different, Jack’s warning about men who do not spend the night still echoed in my ears.

About a half hour into the trip the driver pulled into a gas station. “Let’s get some coffee,” Avi said, slinging my backpack over one shoulder and his backpack over the other.

He climbed down the van steps first, turned, and reached out his hand to help me. “You’ve been really quiet for the last half hour,” he said as we walked to the small convenience store. “Is everything okay? Have I mentioned how wonderful last night was? All of it, not just the sex part.”

I stopped walking and gazed at his face. His freakin’ perfect face. “You didn’t tell me about this. When I woke up, you weren’t next to me. There wasn’t even a note, and it hurt me.”

The look on his face was one I didn’t recognize. He looped his arm around my waist and pulled me close. “Why? Please, please tell me you didn’t think that I ditched out on you.”

My heart pounded against my ribs because that was exactly what I thought. “Having a twin brother gave me a direct view into the minds of men. Jack felt it was his responsibility to lecture me on the ways to tell if a guy liked me or was just using me. Lesson number one was always the same. If he doesn’t spend the night or want you to spend the night, no matter what the excuse--say goodbye.”

Avi shook his head. “That’s bullshit. I ran out to get my stuff so I could be with you. Had I known I was getting that amazing invitation, I would have schlepped this.” He reached over his shoulder and smacked the backpack hanging from it. “Around with me all night, all week, for that matter. Why do you doubt me? I have no wife or girlfriend. I’m not using you for sex, and if I’m using you for anything at all, it’s because hanging out with you makes me happy and, more than anything, I like being happy.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay--Okay.” His smile returned, and he pushed his index finger against my nose. “You need to do better than that. ‘Sorry for doubting you, Avi,’ would work. Or ‘you make me happy, too.’ Or try saying this, ‘Forgive me for assuming such horrible things about you.’ Hell, I’ll even take a simple old fashioned, ‘I’m sorry,’ but ‘okay’ doesn’t cut it. Try again.”

I held back the snicker tickling my nose. “Avi.” I stroked the side of his cheek and leaned in until my lips barely skimmed his ear. “I am so, so sorry I doubted your intentions. If you can forgive me, I promise this evening, when we check into those jungle huts, to thoroughly make it up to you.”

“Now you’re talking.”

My lips stayed on his ear, licking and nipping. “But if you don’t stop being such a drama queen, I’ll feed you to the first monkey I see!”

“Monkeys don’t eat meat.”

“I’ll tape a banana to your back. Now sheket and kiss me.”

***

It didn’t take long to realize that the information Avi provided on the sites outside the van window surpassed the generic information provided by the tour guide assigned to our shuttle. After about a half hour, the Dutch family in the front row and the French couple behind them, sat swiveled in their seats, straining to hear what Avi was murmuring to me.

“Why are there cups attached to all those trees?” I asked Mr. Flora and Fauna Guru.

“That tall skinny tree is a rubber tree.”

“Like the kid song.” I leaned into him snickering. “Just what makes that little ole ant think he can move that rubber tree plant,” I sang, probably a bit too loud, because the Dutch toddler started clapping.

“That’s it!” Avi replied.

“You know that song?”

“No, but I’ve finally found your flaw. You can’t sing.” He held his hands over his ears. “Please, stop.”

I playfully punched him in the arm. “I didn’t need you to tell me that. Okay, keep talking about the rubber tree.”

He launched into an explanation of how the tree bark was slashed, opening a trail for the latex to seep into the small metal cup attached to the tree.

“Excuse me,” the French man interrupted. “Is it true the trees only produce rubber for seven years?”

“Actually,” Avi replied, dragging out the word. “It takes seven years of growth before the rubber can be harvested. Typically, a tree produces for twenty-four years. At that point, the amount of latex diminishes. The tree is cut down and replaced with a new one, which, as I said, will begin producing after seven years.”

“Interesting. Thank you.” The Frenchman turned to his wife and said something in French.

“Not exactly,” Avi interrupted, eavesdropping on their conversation.

He launched into what I assumed was an explanation in French, correcting whatever the man said.

I sat captivated by the ease in which he switched languages. And, the smile on the wife’s face gave the impression that Avi was also charming in French.

“Wow,” I said when he finished.

He shrugged. “If I learn something or know something, I can’t control myself--I have to share it with someone else.”

I kissed his cheek. “And it’s such an adorable quality, especially since you pull it off sounding...What’s the word I’m looking?”

“Pompous? Arrogant?”

“No, you sound like a teacher. A really sexy, science teacher.”

“I’ll take that.” He tossed his arm over my shoulder and pointed out the window. “Rice paddies. You don’t see those in Pittsburgh.”

The drive to Khoa Sok National Park took over two hours, during which, he kept up a running commentary on everything we passed. Everyone struggled to find window space when Avi spotted two wild elephants standing in a stream. The driver turned the van around, pulled over, and we all poured out for a spur-of-the-moment photo shoot with two unsuspecting elephants.

After lunch at a small roadside restaurant, which thank goodness had a few vegetarian choices, we arrived at the Cheow Lan Lake, which a few days prior Avi had referred to as breathtaking. I never paid attention to the color of the lakes and rivers in Pennsylvania. They all appeared dark, cold, and foreboding. I’d walked along the Monongahela and Allegheny rivers many times and never felt an urge to dive in. But the lake in front of us mesmerized me. The water wasn’t made from hydrogen and oxygen. Liquefied emeralds filled this lake.

“Attention,” the guide shouted.

I pulled my gaze from the lake and watched him usher the Dutch and French families onto an ancient looking longboat, with three rows of seats. Avi translated when the boat pilot told our guide that the boat couldn’t hold two more people. The guide called to another pilot and shouted something in Thai. Moments later, Avi and I deposited our backpacks onto the floor of our own private longboat. The pilot signaled for us to sit on coarse wooden benches situated under a weather-worn burlap tarp that stretched between four metal poles attached to the sides of the boat. This makeshift canopy provided minimal protection from a tropical sun whose rays could deliver either a blazing sunburn or skin cancer. Before taking my seat, I leaned over the side and skimmed the water--clear, green, and warm.

“Want to jump in?” Avi asked.

“It’s beautiful, but lakes creep me out. Who knows what’s living in there?”

“Fish.”

“Duh.” I rolled my eyes while trying to position my backside onto a spot that lacked splinters.

“There’s nothing in there that’s any worse than what’s swimming around in the ocean.”

“Ocean fish are prettier, and could you please stand up for a minute.” I pulled my towel out of my backpack and spread it over the bench. “You can sit back down now.”

“You’re calling lake fish ugly? I take umbrage for all the fresh water fish that can’t defend themselves,” he said.

“I grew up in Western Pennsylvania with a grandfather who loved to fish. Sometimes he’d take me with him to one of his favorite spots along the Allegheny River. At the end of the day, I’d watch him fillet the fish and believe me when I say this, not one species resembled Dori or Nemo.”

“In Israel, we have one river, two lakes, and a lot of ocean. You can’t exactly swim in the Dead Sea. My sisters and I used to beg my parents to take us to the Sea of Galilee because it was cooler than the beach.”

“No way, the beach is better.” I stretched to the left to look over the side of the boat. The water sparkled gemlike.

“That’s it,” he announced. “We’re swimming in this lake before this day is over, even if I have to toss you overboard.”

The pilot started the motor. We inched away from the dock. Within moments, he hit the gas, sending the boat speeding forward, and kicking up a spray of water that felt cool when it hit my skin.

Surrounding the lake, layers and layers of rock formed sheer mountain walls that tapered to spiky peaks. Some peaked so high that clouds covered the summits. Others crested at lower elevations and were covered with trees and brush. Avi reached into his backpack and pulled out a pair of binoculars. “This place is known for monkeys and birds.” He pointed toward some trees lining the shore and handed them to me. “Monkeys.”

I watched one swing from tree to tree before shifting my gaze higher, scanning for more. Between the green leaves, I spotted a vivid yellow beak attached to a large black bird and shuddered--a hornbill. Two of them sat in the tree, one on a low branch and another much higher up, eating something I couldn’t make out. It only took a moment for the knot to form in my throat. I handed the binoculars back to Avi and hoped he wouldn’t notice the tears pooling in my eyes.

He scanned the horizon and within seconds, spotted the birds. “Wow.” He pointed, without removing the binoculars from his eyes. “Hornbills. Two of them. Take a look.”

He handed me the binoculars, and I shook my head. “I saw them. You watch them.”

“They’re so cool, here, take another look.” Again, he tried to give me the binoculars.

I shook my head and turned to face the other side of the lake.

“Julie, what’s wrong?” He placed his arm around my waist. “You don’t like hornbills?”

“No, I mean, yes, I do like hornbills.”

“Okay, once again, I’m missing something here because your eyes look really wet and I don’t think it’s the spray from the boat.”

I dropped my head onto his shoulder. “This is going to sound so stupid. When Jack and I were little kids, he'd beg my mom to take us to the National Aviary in Pittsburgh. When my mom finished paying for the tickets, he’d bounce on his toes, begging her to take him to an exhibit that housed a hornbill with a prosthetic beak. Jack adored that bird. He’d sit on the floor, in front of the glass enclosure and talk to it like it was his best friend. I don’t know if the bird had a name, but Jack dubbed him Chester.”

“I remember that bird,” he said, wrapping both arms around me.

“You’ve been to the Aviary in Pittsburgh?”

“Yeah, a few times. My mom has a thing for birds. Every time she and my dad visited me at college, we went to the Aviary. That was the strangest looking bird I’d ever seen. Everyone stopped to stare at it. It was my mom’s favorite too. I wonder if it’s still alive.”

I shrugged, not saying what I was thinking--I would prefer the bird be dead and my brother be alive.

He stuffed the binoculars into the bag. We propped our legs over the bench in front of us and relaxed, relishing the sunshine seeping through the holes in the ragged canopy, the sparkling water, and the view surrounding us. For the next fifteen minutes, neither of us said much. I tried not to think about Jack and how he would have adored this place. Instead, I focused on the beauty around me--Avi’s arms.

“I’m sorry, but I have to ask,” he said.

“What?”

“How can you be in this place.” He lifted his arms, gesturing wide. “With these majestic cliffs, the blue sky, the emerald water, and not believe there’s a God?”

His description was spot on. Everything around us appeared to have been created by a magnificent artist whose media of choice was rock and life. I looked around hoping to see God, but all I saw was layers of limestone worn by the weather and varieties of life that evolved through genetic mutation. Talk about irony, the science teacher saw God, and I saw science.

I ran my hand over his face and looked deep into his eyes. “It’s beautiful that you feel God here. I envy that. Maybe someday, I’ll find him in places like this, but right now--” I shook my head.

“That’s too bad,” he said, then turned and yelled something in Thai, loud enough for the pilot to hear. The pilot nodded and cut the engine.

“Well, my dear. If you can’t find him in this boat, let’s try underwater. He scooped me into his arms and tossed me overboard.

“Avi,” I screamed as I flew and could hear him laughing in the boat.

“I’m right behind you,” he said as I hit the water.

I surfaced and found him bobbing in the warm water. His face radiated joy as he swam toward me. “Did you find him?”

“No, you jerk.” I jumped on his shoulders, pushing him under the water.

A moment later, I squealed. Underwater, Avi went exploring--his hands roaming over my entire body. Maybe he could bribe Mr. Thai Longboat Captain to look the other way.

***

When the sun hovered barely above the mountains, we arrived at our campsite. This type of camping bore no resemblance to our family camping trips, where my father struggled for hours to set up tents on the lumpy ground of some Pennsylvania State Park.

Tropical plants and flowers lined the uneven flagstone walking path that led to our cabin. I lingered behind our guide, Aroon. He and Avi chatted in Thai. I studied wooden-plank platforms supported by stilts built from tree trunks. We passed three platforms before Aroon stopped walking and pointed up. “These are your cabins.” He began the ascent up the wooden plank steps. We trailed behind. I stopped for a moment and tried to absorb the view, deciding that Earth is truly magical. In the distance, thick jungle carpeted the sides of mist capped mountains. The scent in the air mixed the sweetness of the flowers with an earthy smell that emanated from the black dirt covering the ground.

The cabins were a hybrid of a tent and a thatched hut. Thanks to our favorite travel agent Shai’s finagling ability, Avi and I were assigned to cabins on the same platform. Aroon unzipped the front flap and escorted us into cabin number one, not what I expected. This was not a typical tent, more like one out of Harry Potter. A double bed with a snow-white down comforter stretched out from the right wall.

An antique mahogany chest of drawers occupied the back-left corner, and a desk with a matching chair stretched along the wall opposite the bed. A small television rested on the desk, along with a dormitory-sized coffee maker.

Aroon walked to the back of the room and unzipped the far wall, leading us into a thatched bathroom accessorized with a granite countertop and contemporary stainless-steel fixtures. As Aroon demonstrated how to work the hot water, I felt Avi’s breath in my ear.

“Nice shower--fits two comfortably.”

“Shush,” I said, playfully slapping his backside.

“Shall we move to your cabin, Mr. Avi?” Aroon asked when we returned to the outside deck.

“Don’t worry about it. I can show myself around. Go take care of your other guests.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll see you at dinner, seven o’clock in the dining room.”

“Thank you Aroon,” I said, bowing slightly with my hands together in front of my heart.

Avi unzipped the flap of his tent, walked inside, and started laughing. I couldn’t see around him.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, stepping over the doorframe and climbing in behind him. Then I saw it. “What the hell?”

Rose petals coated the entire bed and two white towels folded in the shape of swans sat in the middle, arranged so their necks formed a heart.

“Shai,” he said, between snickers. “He’s crazy--probably told the hotel that the reservation was for newlyweds.”

“Really.” I lifted my eyebrow and crossed my arms in front of my chest. “You had nothing to do with this?”

“Julie.” He unwound my arms, wrapped them around his waist, and peered into my eyes. “Are you insinuating that I came on this trip and asked for rose petals to seduce you?” His fingers opened the button of my shorts and eased down the zipper. “And, even if I did, it’s a moot point now, since this morning, if I recall correctly, you said ‘I promise this evening, when we check into those jungle huts, to thoroughly make it up to you.’”

Before I could answer, he lifted me into his arms and placed me on the rose petals.