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tic rattled.
It reminded me of the sound my grandmother s
bedsheets used to make, flapping in the breeze in
her backyard. She had a dryer, of course, but liked
the smell of the sun on her sheets, and I thought of
her Grandma Pam with her pouffy white cloud
of hair and her apron pockets full of clothespins, to
keep myself from feeling carsick and from thinking
about Robbie, sitting beside me and Michelle in
the backseat. He had his hand precariously close to
167
my shoulder, draped over the seat. I was hoping I
hadn t somehow given him the wrong impression.
If I had, I was hoping to have an opportunity to set
it right before we got to the Club Med. The boys
had said we wouldn t stay long. But I was worried
that once we got to the party, Robbie would think he
was pairing off with me.
Michelle, I could tell, was going to be no help.
She was off, still, in some dreamy Mayan world
with Ander staring out the window with a little
half smile. She was sitting on my lap, but felt
weightless to me.
It was getting dark by the time we arrived. The
hotel s sign was lit up outside: CLUB MED UXMAL.
Instead of the ocean, which was the backdrop to the
Hotel del Sol, this hotel backed right up to the jun­
gle. It was smaller than the Hotel del Sol, but ema­
nating from it was the same background noise of
shouts and rap music, the howling murmur of stu­
dents on spring break, the occasional piercing shriek
or booming laugh. Michelle and I stumbled out of
the cramped backseat and followed the boys
through the lounge (like our hotel, full of half-
dressed teenagers and college students some
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spread out on the wicker furniture, some standing,
leaning against pillars, drinking from bottles or
plastic cups, or kissing) and into an elevator that
smelled like stale beer and vomit.
We got off on the sixth floor to a sea of partiers
and a wall of music.
As I feared, Robbie took my elbow right away and
began to steer me through the crowd. I looked
behind us and saw that Michelle, still with that
dreamy detachment, was walking between Doug
and Pete too slowly, it seemed, for Pete, who gave
her a little push.
The rooms all along the corridors were open, and
in most of them there was just more crowd. Naked,
sunburned male backs. Girls in bikinis. Occasionally,
someone jumping on a bed. Someone lying (passed
out?) on the floor. But in one of the rooms I caught
a glimpse of a naked girl spread-eagled on one of the
beds. Three or four boys were standing at the foot of
the bed, just looking at her. I hesitated. Was that
really what I was seeing?
I looked more closely.
Yes.
Was she passed out, or displaying herself for
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those boys? one of whom saw me looking at him
and gave me the finger. I looked away quickly and
kept walking, but Robbie knew I d hesitated at
that doorway.  You want a look or something? he
shouted over the music into my ear.
 No, I said, wanting to say more:
That, if that girl was passed out, something
should be done, and if anything happened with
those boys, it would be rape. And where were her
friends?
But he pushed me a little with his elbow toward
a keg at the end of the corridor, then reached over
me and took two plastic cups for us and filled them,
handing the first full one to me.
Doug reached past him, and soon we were all five
holding foamy plastic cups.
 Cheers! Robbie shouted, and held his up.
Michelle and I raised our cups, too, and after
Robbie took a sip, he put his arm around me.
Within a second, however, there was a surging of the
crowd in the corridor, and a guy with a bath towel
around his shoulders slammed into Pete and
knocked him over. There were screams coming from
some room, and then what seemed to be ten or
170
twenty naked girls running, followed by maybe
thirty guys groping at them, trying, it seemed, to
catch the girls as they ran past.
But the girls were slick, greased up oil, lotion,
soap? and the guys couldn t hold on to them.
There were hoots, and more guys pushed through
the crowd to go after the girls.
I put my beer down and looked for Michelle.
I couldn t see her anywhere.
 I m leaving, I said, and handed Robbie my plas­
tic cup. I started to push through the crowd, forcing
my way, because I had to, and someone said,  Hey,
don t shove me, bitch, and someone else elbowed
me hard in the breast as I passed.
I found Michelle standing against the wall with a
shocked, wide-awake look on her face. Finally, she d
been snapped out of her Chichén Itzá bliss, and I
felt relieved and guilty at the same time.
It had been me who d gotten us here.
 Let s go, I said.
Michelle followed, and we held hands, making
our way back to the elevator. This time, the door to
the room where the naked girl had been sprawled on
the bed was closed.
 Jesus, Michelle said when we got to the eleva­
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tor doors.  What are we going to do, Anne? How are
we going to get back now?
 I don t know, I snapped.
 Hey!
I turned around. Doug and Robbie were standing
right behind us.
 What? Doug said.  You were just gonna leave
without us?
 No, I said, trying to sound apologetic it wasn t
their fault that the party was so out of control, and
we still needed a ride back to our hotel at the same
time the elevator doors opened. The four of us
stepped in.
 Whoa, Doug said when the sound of the corri­
dor was sufficiently shut out to speak in a normal
tone of voice.  That was some weird shit.
Robbie looked drunk already, or stoned. He was
leaning against the wall of the elevator, his jaw hang­
ing open, his eyes red. We were all sweaty, but he
was dripping with it.
 Yeah, I said.  We re not staying. Will you just
give us a ride to the Hotel del Sol? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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