Tatjana Soli - The Last Good Paradise

Since no one made an effort toward getting breakfast, Cooked decided to rustle up his own. Determined to avoid Javi, he snuck along the edge of the compound to the kitchen, but when he opened the door, there Javi was as if he’d been lying in wait for him.

“Sleeping in, big guy? Want me to whip you up some sunny-side-up eggs?” Javi slapped him hard on the shoulder, and Cooked had to resist the urge to slug him. He had to keep reminding himself that he was now the owner of a resort. He had both incredible assets ($$$) and responsibilities, such as not punching out guests on a whim. Already at the wedding, he had been hit up by just about every relative for a loan. They didn’t believe that he had precisely as much cash on hand — none — as he had days before, when Loren had signed the title document over. Ann had warned him of coming liabilities (bloodsucking insects like Javi), who would try to prey on them.

* * *

Late morning they all were gathered at the dock, waiting for the boat, which was hours late. Titi had set up the special viewing telescope Loren had planned to use for the astronomical occasion that happened to fall that morning. This was her first big idea for a recreational activity, yet it wasn’t working.

“It’s the Transit of Venus,” Titi said, goaded by their lack of curiosity. “Come on.”

The Transit was the official reason given for Captain Cook to come to the islands. The English did not want to make their intent to conquer known to the other European powers. When Loren had first bought the telescope and set it up for guests eight years before, it had been a huge success. He had taken self-portraits with a date stamp to be matched with new ones in eight years. A project having to do with the passage of time. Had Loren just lost interest? Titi wondered. Perhaps he wouldn’t have done away with himself before completing his project if he had remembered. Titi had overlooked the fact that all the enthusiastic guests were women who enjoyed Loren leaning over them and directing them in sighting the lens.

The clouds were rolling in heavily — they should hurry for a view — but no one was interested.

“Won’t it hurt your eyes?” Lilou asked.

“Not if you wear your father’s special glasses.”

Lilou looked skeptically at the glasses, wrinkling her nose as if they had an olfactory presence. She shrugged and walked away.

Titi made a show of looking, but all she saw was a grainy, squirming ball, like something crawling with maggots, with a black dot slowly crossing it. This is what caused Loren such delight? Maybe it was just the idea that after the second crossing, it wouldn’t reappear for 105 years? Maybe the fact of lasting long enough to see it twice was victory enough? Except he hadn’t lasted. He’d forgotten. A disappointment. She had so much wanted it to matter, for it to be beautiful, so she could say, He loved this . No one cared. They said they’d catch an enhanced picture of it on CNN in Papeete airport.

* * *

Past noon and no boat. The assembled group now groused and paced. They had already taken leave of one another, exchanged the vitals of email addresses, phone numbers, etc., and now nothing remained but to go. They shut off their senses to the beauty around them, as if the island itself had ceased to matter. How else could you force yourself to go? Everyone except for Ann.

The last half hour they stood in a row, looking seaward like shipwrecks, ignoring the place that had seemed so magical on arrival. All faced the ocean except Ann, who turned and faced inland. With less enthusiasm they promised one another they would stay in touch, that they’d come back, arrange reunions — why not?

When the hotel boat was finally spotted, each woman eyed her luggage and considered a last trip back to check every corner in her fare , but it was too late — Steve was close enough that they could see his shrimp-pink face. A man of perpetual sunburn and peeling. It was time to go home.

Ann felt sniffly and nostalgic.

Titi was throwing flowers in the water; she had nothing better to do and thought they looked pretty. Maybe they would substitute this for the conch-blowing ceremony?

“Why is she doing that?” Wende asked, pointing with her chin at the waterlogged blooms.

“So the sharks mistake the flowers for us. So we remain safe,” Richard said.

The group turned in unison to look at him.

He blushed. “I just made it up.”

“That was beautiful,” Titi said. “Can I use it?”

The two had grown closer that night outside his bathroom door when Titi had sworn to Richard that she would take care of Piglet as a pet and let him live out his natural life.

Steve cut the motor and glided in. He jumped off as soon as he hit the bumper of the dock and threw the rope to Cooked.

“Gotta take a leak.”

He was gone that fast, and they all had to readjust themselves to delay the dramatic departure yet again. When he returned, he was wiping his hands on a linen towel he’d swiped from the bathroom.

“Any chance of lunch before we push off? I’ve been running since early morning.”

Titi stood mute. Cooked crossed his arms and looked out to sea.

“Sure,” Richard said, not thinking. He was a food-services guy after all. “If it’s okay with you, Titi?”

She shrugged.

“Could you whip something up, Javi?”

Javi smiled, bowed his head at the new pecking order, and left for the kitchen.

* * *

Hijacked for an even longer period, everyone put their stuff down and sprawled out on lounge chairs. Titi came out with a tray of chilled bottled water. You wanted departing guests sober and sorry to leave.

Once Steve sat down to eat, he called Titi and Cooked over.

“I begged the hotel for this boat today. That’s why I’m late. I had to take care of our real guests first.”

Titi nodded her head, but Cooked just looked at Steve with an expression that should have made him uncomfortable.

“They said I could have it this one time because of our VIP, Mr. Cooper here, but after this you’re on your own. And we’ll no longer be able to handle your supplies either.”

“That’s unfair,” Lilou said. “My father—”

“Maybe he and you should have listened to me earlier.”

“Watch it,” Robby said.

“You’ll put them out of business,” Wende said.

Steve dropped his head down to his chest in mock shame, creating a contiguous line of flesh from chin to chest. “It’s just business.”

“Then business sucks,” Dex said.

“I’ll pass your comment on to management. Oh! I forgot — I am management.” Steve looked up, his eyes squinting to their true piggish proportions (in this case not nearly as cute as the real pig, which had rather lovely damp brown eyes). “You can pass on the ride if you feel that way,” Steve continued.

Dex slammed his bottle down on the table. The effect was good, but less than it could have been since it was plastic and merely squeaked and bounced away instead of shattering.

Titi delicately swayed back and forth with her eyes closed. She had known since she was a young girl that the world was simply a veil of pain, but each time its unfairness stole her breath away. Had she prayed for the wrong thing?

Cooked had murder in his eyes.

Clear to all this would not end well.

“I just want you to know I’ve recorded this on my iPhone. It’s going straight on YouTube,” Wende said.

“Nothing I’ve said here is illegal in the least, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call my fiancée ‘sweetheart.’”

Wende frowned for so many reasons. “It won’t exactly make you Mr. Popular. People won’t come to your resort. You’ll be the asshole of the South Pacific.”