Stranger in the mirror


I spent a restless first night aboard ship. Maybe it was the vibrations that the engine sent through the vessel, or maybe the rough sea and the slight pitch and roll. All sorts of crazy things went through my head, but the imagination can run wild when there's nothing on your mind to impede it. To keep from worrying about all the strange noises and movements I tried to focus on Cynthia, the assistant purser with the nice tan. Warm thoughts of her took my mind off drowning in an icy fjord and it sure beat counting sheep. I was dead to the world when the squawk box in my cabin chimed to announce the first seating for breakfast. I got up and showered away the cobwebs. I had no appetite, but there was plenty of time to work one up before the second seating. There were jogging clothes in my duffel bag and a track on the topmost deck. It was a lucky decision. I found Cynthia at one of the exercise stations, stretching those long, tan legs of hers and working up a sweat that matted the hair under her headband.

"I'm glad I ran into you," I said. "I've got a complaint."

"Good morning, Mr. McCauley. Don't tell me you fell out of bed."

She was never going to let me forget that airplane gag. I explained that my table companions weren't exactly my type and wondered if she could change my seating assignment. For instance, I thought it might be great to dine with her tonight.

"And risk the wrath of the Altar Guild ladies from Walla Walla! No way! They've already asked me to give the boot to the Felkersons so they can reclaim the window seats. I had to turn them down, too."

"But do I have to be their consolation prize?"

She ignored the question, puffed through her fiftieth deep knee bend, then leaned forward at the waist and grasped the horizontal bar with both hands, stretching her shoulders and back. The position was provocative, with her derriere poked up in the air that way, and she caught me admiring her form.

"Why don't you try this?" she asked peering up at me from under her arm. "It takes the kinks out of your back and makes you feel ten feet tall."

"I already feel ten feet tall. Why are you dodging my request, is it out of order?"

"It's very flattering, really, but I have to think of the others at your table. You wouldn't want to hurt their feelings, would you?"

"They won't miss me. We had dinner together, nothing more. I don't think any heavy relationships are likely to come of it."

"Give it a chance, Mr. McCauley. You never know what might develop."

"I could say the same to you. Give me a chance. You never know what might develop."

"I'm only interested in developing muscles right now, Mr. McCauley. How about a turn around the track?"

"Fine, for starters. But my name is Pete. Can't I be Pete while you're off duty?"

"Why not?" she said with a smile that could have melted the glacier we were gliding past. We spent half an hour jogging in the crisp morning air as the vessel churned down Tracy Arm. By the time the sun had taken the chill off the day we'd finished a snack of fruit and coffee at the Lido. She was fun to talk to, one of those women who can make a guy think he's really something special, smiling all the time, laughing at just the right places. And the eye contact - the eye contact made me think of warm summer nights on the Marina Green or sailing on San Francisco Bay with the spindrift cool on my face. Then she had to leave to get ready for work. And I still hadn't gotten a commitment from her, even for dinner. But I was looking forward to jogging next morning. I could get myself into truly remarkable shape with her as a pacer.

I had another cup of coffee after she left. I was seated facing the stern of the ship and just ahead of me was the Jacuzzi with its hot, roiling water giving off clouds of steam. A young family was about to enter the pool. He was Caucasian, she a willowy Eurasian, and their son a handsome lad of about eight who seemed to combine his parents' best features. They slipped out of their robes and eased themselves into the water. It was as simple as that, a perfectly natural and innocent scene, but it sent a blinding flash through my head. The blood throbbed in my temples, my vision became blurred and I was sure I was going to pass out. I knocked my coffee over as I staggered to my feet, grasping my head. A waiter rushed to grab me.

"Are you all right, sir?"

I looked at him through a gray haze, grasped his shoulders with both hands and hung on for dear life. A woman at a nearby table let out a little scream, loud enough to shock me into sharper awareness. I made a quick apology to the waiter, mumbling something about my head injury and got out of there as quickly as I could. Something was trying to work its way into my consciousness, I was sure of it. And it wasn't recollections of warm nights on the Marina Green or sailing on San Francisco Bay. It was something much more ominous. But whatever it was, it never became clear. I went back to my cabin to lie down, thinking that maybe if I could just relax and let my mind go blank some figment of my past might return to give me a clue. But every time I wiped the slate clean, Cynthia appeared there. I either had to give thoughts of her free rein or try to forget her altogether. And I already had forgotten far too much of my life.