dirt, but they do rearrange it a bit. You're better off taking a swim in the cenote instead of a shower except when you want to wash your hair."
I ran water in the basin and splashed it on my face. The water was lukewarm and even after rinsing I could feel soap on my skin. I guessed that Barbara was right; I never would feel clean. My eyes still felt hot and dry from crying.
In the hut, Barbara lit a tall white candle in a clear glass chimney. The flame cast a pool of yellow light on the footlocker where she set it; shadows wavered in the corners of the hut.
By the candlelight, I found the shelf where Tony had set my bag earlier. I dug through the bag for the oversized T-shirt I had brought to sleep in. Barbara undressed and, casually naked, rubbed herself with insect repellent. She offered me the repellent, advised me to use it, then instructed me on the best method for sleeping in a hammock.
"There's a knack to it," she said, laying one hand on her hammock. She took a sheet from the shelf and tossed it to me, took another for herself. She wrapped the sheet loosely around her, held one side of the hammock away from her, spreading the webbing of cotton strings, then sat back in it, lying diagonally. She arranged the sheet around her, tucked one arm under her head, and smiled at me. "See. Comfortable as your own bed." She was rocking slightly. "Could you hand me my cigarettes?"
I took the cigarettes from the footlocker, used the candle to light one, and handed it to her. She puffed and silently watched me attempt to duplicate her maneuver. My own rocking motion was somewhat more frantic and the edges of the hammock tried to close over me.
"Lie crosswise," Barbara suggested.
I managed to squirm around until the length of my body kept the webbing spread. I tucked the sheet around me.
"Comfortable?" she asked.
"As long as I don't move."
"Want a cigarette?"
"No thanks." I felt more comfortable than I had felt for many months. I had seen my mother and survived the meeting. "Hey, who's going to blow out the candle?"
"I can get it from here," she said. She leaned over and blew the candle out.
I propped up my head on my arm and my hammock rocked furiously. "Seems like a tough place to make love," I said, thinking of Carlos and Maggie.
"It can be done," Barbara said. "Trust me."
"You sound like an expert." I could see only the glowing tip of her cigarette, rocking slowly in the darkness. For a moment, she was silent, and I thought perhaps I had said too much.
"Stick around here, and you can find out firsthand," she said slowly. "I'm sure Carlos would be delighted to help you learn."
"That's all right. I think I'll pass." I watched her cigarette glow brighter as she took a puff.
"You married?" she asked.
"No. I'm just out of a bad breakup." I tried to sound casual. "That's one reason I'm down here. He was the art director at the advertising agency where I worked.'' I could visualize his face clearly: dark hair with a touch of gray, blue eyes.
"He was married?"
"Sure enough." I managed to keep my voice light. I was glad the hut was dark.
"Aren't they always," Barbara said. Her voice had softened. "I had an affair with a professor of mine.
He was married and had two kids. He finally said it was over, cut me off, wouldn't have anything to do with me. When I was sure it was all over, I changed schools. I couldn't stand seeing him, up there in front of his classes, so very sure of himself."
"I quit and left town." It felt good to tell someone about it. Especially someone who did not know Brian, did not judge me to be a fool.
"I know how it goes," Barbara said. "Well, if you're looking for a place to escape and forget, this is a good one. They'll never find you here."
"Thanks for helping me with everything," I said awkwardly.
"No problem," she said. "Any time you need to talk, let me know."
I watched her silhouette lean over and stub the cigarette out in the dirt on the hut floor. I heard the sheet rustle as she
I ran water in the basin and splashed it on my face. The water was lukewarm and even after rinsing I could feel soap on my skin. I guessed that Barbara was right; I never would feel clean. My eyes still felt hot and dry from crying.
In the hut, Barbara lit a tall white candle in a clear glass chimney. The flame cast a pool of yellow light on the footlocker where she set it; shadows wavered in the corners of the hut.
By the candlelight, I found the shelf where Tony had set my bag earlier. I dug through the bag for the oversized T-shirt I had brought to sleep in. Barbara undressed and, casually naked, rubbed herself with insect repellent. She offered me the repellent, advised me to use it, then instructed me on the best method for sleeping in a hammock.
"There's a knack to it," she said, laying one hand on her hammock. She took a sheet from the shelf and tossed it to me, took another for herself. She wrapped the sheet loosely around her, held one side of the hammock away from her, spreading the webbing of cotton strings, then sat back in it, lying diagonally. She arranged the sheet around her, tucked one arm under her head, and smiled at me. "See. Comfortable as your own bed." She was rocking slightly. "Could you hand me my cigarettes?"
I took the cigarettes from the footlocker, used the candle to light one, and handed it to her. She puffed and silently watched me attempt to duplicate her maneuver. My own rocking motion was somewhat more frantic and the edges of the hammock tried to close over me.
"Lie crosswise," Barbara suggested.
I managed to squirm around until the length of my body kept the webbing spread. I tucked the sheet around me.
"Comfortable?" she asked.
"As long as I don't move."
"Want a cigarette?"
"No thanks." I felt more comfortable than I had felt for many months. I had seen my mother and survived the meeting. "Hey, who's going to blow out the candle?"
"I can get it from here," she said. She leaned over and blew the candle out.
I propped up my head on my arm and my hammock rocked furiously. "Seems like a tough place to make love," I said, thinking of Carlos and Maggie.
"It can be done," Barbara said. "Trust me."
"You sound like an expert." I could see only the glowing tip of her cigarette, rocking slowly in the darkness. For a moment, she was silent, and I thought perhaps I had said too much.
"Stick around here, and you can find out firsthand," she said slowly. "I'm sure Carlos would be delighted to help you learn."
"That's all right. I think I'll pass." I watched her cigarette glow brighter as she took a puff.
"You married?" she asked.
"No. I'm just out of a bad breakup." I tried to sound casual. "That's one reason I'm down here. He was the art director at the advertising agency where I worked.'' I could visualize his face clearly: dark hair with a touch of gray, blue eyes.
"He was married?"
"Sure enough." I managed to keep my voice light. I was glad the hut was dark.
"Aren't they always," Barbara said. Her voice had softened. "I had an affair with a professor of mine.
He was married and had two kids. He finally said it was over, cut me off, wouldn't have anything to do with me. When I was sure it was all over, I changed schools. I couldn't stand seeing him, up there in front of his classes, so very sure of himself."
"I quit and left town." It felt good to tell someone about it. Especially someone who did not know Brian, did not judge me to be a fool.
"I know how it goes," Barbara said. "Well, if you're looking for a place to escape and forget, this is a good one. They'll never find you here."
"Thanks for helping me with everything," I said awkwardly.
"No problem," she said. "Any time you need to talk, let me know."
I watched her silhouette lean over and stub the cigarette out in the dirt on the hut floor. I heard the sheet rustle as she
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