Back on Solid Ground (18 page)

The villa
from this angle was spectacular.  Eli and Carlos were standing on the veranda
looking down at her and Stacy waved and motioned with her hand for them to come
down.  Shortly afterward, Eli met her on the beach.

“You’ve been
working your ass off!” he said, handing her a cold drink.  

“Thanks.”  Stacy
had just come out of the water and she was dripping wet. “I can’t believe how
much debris washed up.  I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“This is as
bad as I’ve ever seen it,” Eli said.  He looked at the stretch she had cleaned
and at the giant pile she had made and was impressed.  

Stacy chugged
the drink and put the cup down beside her other things, then she pulled her
shorts back on and picked up the gloves.  “I wish I’d brought a towel,” she
said, then she looked at Eli.  “Can I use your shirt?”

“Sure.” 

He took it
off and handed it to her and Stacy dried her face and hands on the shirt and
offered it back to him.

“You need to
wear it.  You’re getting burned.”

She put the
shirt on and pulled on the gloves and got back to work with the rake.  Eli
watched her for a minute then grabbed a garbage bag and started stuffing the
debris she had raked into the bag. 

“Here, you
can wear these,” she said.  Stacy took off the gloves and tossed them over to
Eli.  “I’ll rake and you do the yucky stuff.”

Eli put the
gloves on.  “Gross, they’re all muggy inside.”

“I’ve been
working hard,” she said defensively.

They worked
together for the next two hours with Stacy raking and Eli scooping, and they
had made excellent progress.  Stacy was heading back after dumping a load of
debris onto the big pile and Eli was watching her as she came towards him.  She
worked as hard as any guy he had ever known with no moaning or complaining.  He
knew she had to be exhausted.  Eli was, and Stacy had been at it twice as long.

“I have to
rest,” Stacy said finally. She leaned against Eli, “I’m dying,” she said
dramatically. 

He put his
arm around her and laughed.  “You must be.  You work like a Trojan.”

“Let’s swim,”
she said. 

Eli watched
Stacy strip off her shorts and shirt.  She had a great body.  Nice squared
shoulders, a tiny waist, and legs that most women would kill for. He realized
he was staring at her and he made himself look away.  They walked down to the
water and went out to where Stacy was shoulder deep. 

“This is
great,” she said, going under and getting her hair wet.  “Do you have
snorkeling equipment or scuba gear?”

“Everything,”
Eli said.  “Do you dive?”

“Yeah, but I
haven’t for ages,” she said.  “What a great place to do it.”

“It’s
incredible,” Eli said, with excitement in his voice.  “There’s a  big coral
reef on the other side of the island that’s worth checking out.  It’s good for
snorkeling, but it’s unbelievable for diving.  There’s a network of caves you
can explore, but you have to go pretty deep.  Tell Niki to take you,” Eli
suggested.

Stacy got a
queasy feeling at the mention of his brother.  She had not thought of Niki all
morning while she was preoccupied with the clean up.  That had been the whole
point of the project and it had worked.  Now she had butterflies all over
again.  She went under again and decided she was not coming back up until she
got her shit together.  She held her breath as long as she could and when she
came back up Eli was gone.  Stacy looked around but didn’t see him anywhere. 
She was turning in circles looking for him and was on the verge of panic, when
he surfaced 30 feet away with a huge conch shell in his hands. 

“Dammit Eli! 
You scared the shit out of me!” Stacy yelled at him.  “I thought you had
drowned.”  Her heart was pounding.

“Sorry,” he
said, remorseless.  He swam back over to her.  “Check it out,” he said, showing
her the shell. 

Her heart was
still beating fast and she was too mad to appreciate the beauty of the shell. 
“I see it,” she said grumpily.

“You’re mad,
aren’t you?” he laughed. 

“Yes,” she
said, embarrassed. “You really scared me.”

“I said I was
sorry.”

“Yeah, but
you didn’t mean it.”  She mocked his tone, “Sorry.”

“Hey, that
was good!  You sounded just like me,” he said.  “And it sounded very sincere to
me,” he added, trying not to laugh. 

“You’re such
a jerk”  They started walking back to shore.  “I don’t think I can do any more
manual labor today,” Stacy said.  “The muscles in my shoulders and back are
killing me.”

“Here hold
this,” Eli said, handing her the conch.  He put his hands on Stacy’s shoulders
and dug his thumbs into the muscles of her back. 

“Oh my God! 
That feels so good,” Stacy said.  “ It hurts, but it’s a good hurt, you know?”

Eli rubbed
her for a minute then tried to send her on her way, but she begged him not to
stop, so he massaged her shoulders and neck until they got to shore. 

“That’s it!”
he said, throwing his hands in the air.

“That was
wonderful,” Stacy said, making circles with her shoulders.  “I just need that
for about 30 minutes is all.”

“Tell Carlos
you’re sore and he’ll give you a massage with some herbal stuff he makes,” Eli
suggested.

“Really?”
Stacy asked.

“Seriously.”

“Kick ass!”
Stacy said, enthusiastically.  Eli laughed at her. “I’m ready for lunch.  Are
you?” Stacy asked.

“I just ate a
couple of hours ago.  Your tacos were good, by the way,” he said.  “I could
probably eat again.”

Stacy gathered
up her things and they went back up to the house.

Niki and
Jason had landed on a private airstrip in Honduras, just north of Puerto
Lempira.  A man named Sandoval had met them at the plane and was ushering them
into the interior of the country, where they would pass the time until dark,
then cross over into Nicaragua. 

Nicaragua was a dangerous country, but Niki and Jason were not strangers to the land.  They
had many contacts from previous weapons dealings who knew the terrain and how
to get in and out of the country by alternative routes; Sandoval was one of
them.  He was reminding Niki and Jason of the dangers presented by the proposed
trip into Nicaragua.

“You realize
that traveling after dark in Nicaragua is strongly discouraged because of the
criminal element,” Sandoval said. “Robberies and kidnappings perpetrated by
armed criminal factions are extremely common, especially in the remote north
central region where we’re headed.”

“We’re aware
of the dangers,” Niki said.  The jeep they were riding in had doors but no
windows and the air felt good on Niki’s face.

“Land mines
are something else we need to consider if you want to travel off the main roads
between Honduras and Nicaragua,” Sandoval said.

“I’ll let you
decide which route to take.  You know the land a lot better than we do,” Niki
said.

Sandoval
continued, “Many of the roads that were destroyed by the last hurricane have
still not been rebuilt, so there are a lot of detours off the main road. 
That’s often when you run into trouble.”

Niki wasn’t
worried about the road bandits that frequented Nicaragua’s streets at night. 
He and Jason had come heavily armed.  What worried Niki was that he might not
be able to locate his client if his client didn’t want to be located.

“What have
you learned since I talked to you yesterday?” Niki asked.

“The man you
are looking for lives in a big house up in the mountains.  His real name is
Marcos Ortega, no relation to Daniel Ortega, by the way, and I have to tell you
Niki, he has a good reputation in the business,” Sandoval told him.  “From what
I hear, he’s a trustworthy criminal,” Sandoval said, then added, “not unlike
yourself for that matter.  I guess what I’m trying to say is, he’s never been
known to double cross someone he works with.”

 “I almost
hope you’re wrong, because if you’re right, I have no idea who I need to be
looking for,” Niki told him.

They rode in
silence for a while and Niki allowed himself to think about Stacy for the first
time since he had kissed her goodbye that morning.  She had a way of consuming
his thoughts if he let her, so he had made it a point to concentrate on
anything but her.   The truth was, he already missed her, and Niki realized
that for the first time, he was thinking in terms of returning to a person and not
a place.

They drove
about 350 km and pulled over at a shack before they reached Las Manos.  They
would not be using the overland border crossing and Sandoval didn’t want to go
any further until it got dark.  Once they crossed into Nicaragua, they would have at least another couple hours’ drive before they reached
Ortega’s home, depending on the conditions of the roads.  Not only was night
travel unsafe in terms of the criminal element, but the roads themselves posed
another safety threat, as they were narrow and in poor repair with potholes and
an absence of shoulders.  It was not uncommon to find oxcarts or horses
traveling the main thoroughfares, or broken down vehicles abandoned on the
roads.

The men got
out of the jeep and stretched their legs then went into the shack for a bite to
eat.  When they finished, Sandoval pulled the jeep off the main road and they
waited for nightfall.

Carlos was in
the kitchen when Stacy and Eli came up from the beach. 

“You’re
burned,” Carlos said, as soon as he saw Stacy.

“I know, Mama
Carlos,” Stacy said.  “And the muscles in my shoulders and back are killing
me.”

“I have a
great massage oil for that,” Carlos said, and Stacy looked over at Eli and
smiled.

“What’s for
lunch?” she asked.

“I was just
getting ready to look,” Carlos said.  “Do you want a beer?”

“I’d love
one,” Stacy said.  Carlos opened one and handed it to her.  She turned the
bottle upside down and gulped half of it while Carlos and Eli watched in
amazement.  “I’m so thirsty,” she said, unaware of her performance.

“So we see,”
Eli said sarcastically.

“What?” Stacy
said defensively.

“I don’t
know,” Eli said.  “Girls don’t usually chug beer.”

“Oh brother,”
Stacy said.  She set the beer down on the counter and went to the
refrigerator.  “Leftover enchiladas?” she suggested, taking the dish out.

“Here,” said
Carlos, taking the dish.  “I’ll do it.  You made breakfast.”

She sat down
at the table with her beer while Carlos and Eli served the plates and heated
them in the microwave, then Eli brought Stacy’s plate to the table.  They
finished lunch and Stacy was lying on the floor in the living room waiting for
her massage.  Carlos had gone to get his massage oil and Eli was on the couch
channel surfing.  He would flip to one channel, and just when Stacy would get
interested in the program, he would change it. 

“Will you
stop doing that!” Stacy said, finally.

Eli laughed.

“Gross,
there’s something nasty on the carpet.  I think it’s scrambled egg,” Stacy
said.  “Did you eat breakfast in here?”

“Yeah,” he
said, then added, “You should have checked the floor for egg.”

Stacy spun
around.  “Danny Glover,
Lethal Weapon
!” she exclaimed. 

“I can’t
believe you know that!” Eli laughed.

Stacy sat
up.  “Okay, what’s this from?” Stacy asked. “
Chrissie, get me the big knife!”

“Too easy,”
Eli laughed.  “
Moonstruck
.”  He thought for a second, “
Snakes.  I
hate snakes.
”

“
Indiana
Jones and the Last Crusade
,” she said.

The game was
interrupted when Carlos came in with his herbal oil.  He knelt beside Stacy, squeezed
the massage oil onto her back and started rubbing her sore muscles. 

“Oh my God,
that feels incredible,” Stacy moaned.

“Your muscles
are wound up tight as a drum,” he said, pinching her shoulders.  “Relax!” he
said, shaking her.

“It’s all the
stress you men have put me through,” Stacy said.  “I’ve probably aged ten
years.”

“You
are
looking pretty ragged,” Eli said.

“Hey!” Stacy
said.  She lifted up her head and Carlos pushed it back down.

“Stop talking
and relax,” Carlos instructed.  “Half of your problem is that you need to
relax.”

Stacy closed
her eyes and tried to relax.  She wondered where Niki and Jason were and what
they were doing but she knew better than to ask.  If Niki had wanted her to
know where he was going he would have told her. 

A shiver went
down Stacy’s spine and she got a weird feeling. “You’re in my head again aren’t
you, Carlos?” Stacy said, looking over her shoulder. 

Carlos was
shocked.  “You could feel it?”

“Yes, and it
gave me the creeps again.”

“That’s
wonderful,” Carlos exclaimed.  “You have the gift as well, Stacy.” 

“Not like
you,” she clarified.  “Mine are just isolated incidents.  More of a gut feeling
that something is one way or another.”

“And what do
you think being psychic is?” Carlos asked.  “It’s learning to listen to that
inner voice – your gut feeling as you call it – and trust that it always tells
the truth. You should practice and refine your skills, Stacy.”

“I’m not into
meditating, if that’s what you mean.  I’ve tried it and it sucks.”

Carlos
smiled.  “No, I don’t necessarily mean meditating, although it works well for
many people.  But when you get that feeling you were talking about, where you
know something is one way or the other, give yourself over to your mind for a
moment and see where it takes you.”

“I’ll try,”
Stacy said.  She laid her head back down and her mind went back to Niki.  “Do
you think he misses me, Carlos?”