Paradise for a Sinner (17 page)

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Authors: Lynn Shurr

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Sports, #Contemporary

BOOK: Paradise for a Sinner
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“Shouldn’t we stop there?”

“Not today. I know a spot where we can meet the guardians of the forest.”

“You going to tell me who they are?”

“I’d rather surprise you.”

In deference to the heat and water-laden air, Winnie wore one of the lava-lavas and her sandals. Giving up on retaining her usual smooth curls, she drew her hair back with a band. When Adam parked and led her down an ill-defined path into the forest, she traipsed along enchanted by the flitting, colorful birds and huge trees draped with orchids. They came to a clearing with a dead tree in its middle. The atmosphere changed from steamy and dew-laden to slightly foul. Adam pointed to the strange brown fruit hanging from the branches.

“Quiet now. There they are—the guardians of the forest, our flying foxes.”

Winnie raised her green eyes and peered more closely at the lumpish sacks. Suddenly, she understood what she saw. “Bats! Great big, blood-sucking bats. Oh, God! Oh, God!”

Covering her hair with her hands, she turned heel and charged back into the rainforest. Unfortunately, her shrieks disturbed the flying foxes. They spread leathery wings and crashed into the foliage after her. She ran faster. Adam called, “No, no! They eat fruit. They pollinate flowers and hurt no one.”

She thought the path lay straight ahead, that the road and the safety of the Jeep would appear at any second, but she did not remember passing such a large banyan tree or the clump of spiky scarlet flowers. In the distance, she heard Adam shouting for her, but no miraculous path opened at her feet to show her the way back to the glade. Only trees and more trees, ropy vines and thickets of tall ferns no matter which way she turned.

Something landed in the wide canopy of the banyan with its many branched roots digging into the jungle soil. One of the horrid, fox-faced bats stared at her. Not wanting it to attack, Winnie stood perfectly still. Another landed nearby. Both flopped upside down and toed their way among foliage probably searching for the banyan’s fig-like fruit. Adam’s words finally registered. They eat fruit and hurt no one. Not finding a meal and having been disturbed from their rest earlier, the bats dropped from the limb and began a leisurely flight back to their roost, she guessed. Adam called again from the direction the bats took. She followed and broke into the clearing on its opposite side. Somehow, she’d circled round dodging trees instead of running straight.

More bats returned to the dead tree slicked white with their droppings. Adam gestured to her to cross the glade. She did so quietly, giving the roost a wide berth. He folded her carefully in his arms and kissed her gently on the forehead. She whispered, “Can we go to the Jeep now?”

He nodded and found the faint path to the road. Once back at the car, he said, “The guardians of the forest are said to help the lost. Now I know that is true. They brought you back to me. I thought I’d have to organize a search party.”

“Sorry for being so silly. Bats freak me out.”

“I guess they do most people, but here they are revered. I think you’ve had enough of the rainforest for today. How about some beach time? We can swing over to Alega and get some swimming in before the afternoon storms arrive. Wear the suit that covers you a little more and bring a fresh lava-lava. This one is done for.” He ran a finger up a long rent in the side of her garment and tickled her thigh.

She had no memory of having ripped it in her panicked flight. “Open space, sunlight, and sea sound great to me about now. I’m with you.”

“You certainly are.”

****

Crowded among Samoans enjoying a day at the beach, Winnie earned the compliments of many men eyeballing her attire. Most of the sea bathers went into the water wearing long shorts or lava-lavas. Adam rolled his up into a sort of loincloth that suited him well, though he glared at two rare rainy-season tourists who attempted to take a picture of his tattoos without asking permission. Before he could knock the camera from the man’s hand, the fellow recognized him through the viewfinder and asked for an autograph instead.

Holding out a travel guide, the guy said, “Would ya make that out to Charlie and Livy Diggs?” His bleached blonde, highly-tanned wife fished a pen from an overstuffed beach bag.

The fan with the bald head and loud Bermuda shorts chattered on and on about his life and his luck in finding the famous Samoan Sinner right here on this beach as Adam signed. His wife, whose boob job bulged out of a skimpier top than Winnie’s, and whose buxom bottom should never be seen in a bikini, couldn’t take her eyes off of Adam’s body art or wet loincloth.

The urge rose in Winnie to push Livy into the sand, but she practiced complete restraint when the couple asked her to take a picture of them on either side of the big man, the wife clinging to his bicep and the husband slinging a sun-burned arm over Adam’s shoulder. Oh, how she wanted to pitch the camera into the surf when Livy kept her hand on Adam’s arm long after she snapped the shot. Jealousy she had no right to surged through her system. Last night she’d danced with a dozen men, and Adam hadn’t cared at all. Keep it light, Winnie. Keep it light like Adam did. The fortuitous arrival of the afternoon storm making its way across the bay prevented her from doing anything equally as stupid as fleeing from bats.

The blonde’s husband thumbed his travel guide. “Hey, Tisa’s Barefoot Bar is right over there. Let me buy you a drink and a burger while we wait out the rain. What do you say?”

To Winnie’s dismay, Adam said yes. As the first drops fell, Charlie Diggs of Paramus, New Jersey, covered his bald head with the travel guide and headed for the bar. Livy grabbed the bulging beach bag and rammed a wide straw hat over her bleached extravaganza of hair. She tripped over something invisible in the sand, seized Adam’s arm for support, and did not remove her red-polished claws until they reached their destination. Winnie trudged along behind with their beach blankets wrapped around her shoulders and their dry lava-lavas bunched under her arms. She and Adam changed in the restrooms. Livy drew a long, gold patterned caftan from her bag and considered herself dressed. Charlie scooted back to their rental car to put on a shirt and get an umbrella, but at last they were all settled and awaiting beverages and food.

Somehow, Livy managed to make Adam the center of a Diggs’ sandwich with Winnie on the outside of the group like the dill pickle no one wanted. Considering last night’s overindulgence, Winnie chose the local
koko
over alcohol and indulged in its chocolate deliciousness while the others had beer. That and the sound of the rain soothed her despite Charlie’s endless conversation.

“I met my jewel at a casino in Atlantic City. Imagine the luck. I’ve always been a lucky guy,” the tourist said.

“Sometimes, we are meant to be in certain places at certain times to meet someone,” Adam remarked. He smiled at Winnie over the top of Livy’s big hair.

“Me, I own a bowling alley. Turns out Liv loves to bowl and gamble. So do I. A match made in heaven, I say.”

Winnie glanced down to notice Livy’s foot as it slipped from her sandal and began to rub Adam’s calf. Or a marriage made in hell. She doubted it would last out the year.

“I says to Livy, where you want to go on our honeymoon? You name it, Paris, Hawaii. I got the dough. She says she been to both those places with her first two husbands. She wants me to surprise her. I check out Samoa, two fucking days to get here and it turns out to be the rainy season.”

Adam agreed. “Rains here a lot even in the dry season.”

“Now I don’t mind staying indoors and celebrating our nuptials, but Liv, she wants to see the island. Say, maybe you could show us around tomorrow.”

“Sorry,” Adam said. “We’re flying out tomorrow.”

Winnie stopped sipping her
koko
. “We are? Yes, I forgot we are. But, you should drive up and see the rainforest. Be sure to find someone to show you the guardians of the forest.”

Livy reluctantly dropped her foot into her sandal again and addressed Winnie. “Come on, tell us what they are.”

“No, I want you to be surprised.”

Adam winked at Winnie over the blonde bombshell’s head. “Thanks for the burger and fries. I hope you enjoy Samoa. We have to get back to our room and pack.”

“Maybe Charlie and me will fly down to New Orleans to see you play in the fall,” Livy hinted. “Look, write down your address, and we’ll send you a copy of that picture of us together.”

Adam smiled cordially, but stood and reclaimed Winnie with an arm around her waist. “Just send it in care of the Sinners. I’ll get it. Nice meeting you.”

They headed back to the Jeep unmindful of the rain. “Thanks for telling them that little white lie about our leaving tomorrow. I couldn’t take much more of Liv and Charlie. I don’t know how you could stand them,” Winnie said.

“My parents raised me to be polite to my elders, and Livy was certainly that, but I wasn’t lying. While you were getting yourself out of bed, I made reservations to fly over to Ofu. It has the best and most deserted beaches in the world. I’ll teach you to snorkel.”

“A deserted beach, I like the sound of that. Snorkeling, not so sure.”

“Nothing to it. The reef sharks and sea snakes won’t bother us, but you do have to watch out for the poisonous spines of the stonefish.”

“Maybe I’d rather take my chances with the fruit bats again.”

Adam laughed his way back to the hotel. At the very least, she amused him.

Chapter Twenty-One

The small plane bumped along on the air currents and finally made a neat landing on Ofu’s small airstrip wedged between the mountains and the ocean. That landing alone would have been enough excitement for Winnie to last the entire day. Adam carried their bags directly to the nearby lodge and checked them into a plain, tidy room with a private bath. He rented a truck, borrowed snorkeling gear, and asked that the meal coming with the accommodations be packed as a picnic. Though the shore near the hotel looked perfectly fine to Winnie, he drove them to Ofu Beach, part of the national park, and offered her four totally deserted miles of white sand, swaying palms, crystal clear water, and coral reefs. A volcanic peak, sharp as a shark’s tooth, rose behind it. “A perfect paradise,” she had to admit.

Adam started her out in the waist-deep shallow water until she got the hang of the ungainly flippers and clearing her facemask and snorkel. If she faltered, his big arms were there to catch her. Gradually, he inched her into deeper water and over to the reef that mushroomed from the sea floor and gave shelter to all manner of small, bright fish. A reef shark chasing down a meal did startle Winnie enough to send her sputtering to the surface, but again Adam was there to steady her. They ate lunch in the shade and dozed until the wind picked up and the sky darkened in preparation for the daily storm.

Racing for the truck, Winnie got inside and scorched her bottom on the overheated upholstery. “We should have parked in the shade.”

“Only if we want dents in the truck.” Adam pointed to the coconut-laden palms. “You never know when one of those babies will fall.” A storm-tossed tree illustrated his words by releasing a huge, green nut that landed like a bomb nearby. He drove away from the beach. “Not a good idea to stand under them, either. Death by coconut,” he said somberly.

She thought he teased her again. “Yet you made love to me under the palms at Joe’s ranch. You’re joking.”

“You have to pick your spot carefully. Besides, Louisiana palms don’t get coconuts, not that I noticed. A coconut can give a person as good a concussion as a linebacker, believe me. Only an idiot hangs around under them.”

“So all this stuff about making love under the palms isn’t true?”

He gave her that grin of his, so blazing white against his dark skin. “It’s a metaphor for fooling around sexually, Winnie. I thought you’d figured that out.”

“Oh, I see.” They weren’t making love; they were fooling around sexually. Exactly what she wanted and needed, all she had planned on when she met Adam. No longer an easily flattered nineteen-year-old college student, she knew people did not fall in love in such a short period of time. Of course not. That would be ridiculous, especially when Adam, handsome, rich, generous, and good-natured could have anyone except this Princess Pala.

Back at the lodge, they had more than enough for dinner and hiked it off climbing to Maga Point to watch the sunset over the Pacific once the rains passed, another picture postcard moment in Winnie Green’s life. They might have been on a secluded honeymoon, only they were not. When the rain returned in the morning and the small airplane did not, they cozied up in the lodge watching old movies on the DVD player and trying to beat each other at board games and cards. A third day doing the same bothered Adam not at all.

“Won’t your family be worried?”

“No, people get stuck on these islands all the time, especially during the rainy season.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have come if they are waiting for us.”

“Not a problem, like I said,” Adam replied a little tersely.

Winnie slapped down a winning hand in gin rummy. “Is it me—the reason you don’t want to go home—because I’m black. I can stay in Pago Pago or fly home if my presence is difficult for you.”

Adam laughed so hard the cards in his hand sprayed across the table. “You are lighter than most of the people in my village. You have golden brown hair and green eyes. They will see you as a white foreigner, a
palagi
, and treat you that way. Race is not much of an issue here as we are all mixed in some way or another. You are not the problem, lovely Winnie. The village will welcome you, I keep saying. Me, I am the problem.”

“I can’t see how. You are famous, wealthy, very generous—and yes, extremely handsome. Don’t let that go to your head. Any village would be proud to claim you. Explain this to me.”

Adam, damn him, gave her another one of his big shrugs. “You would have to be Samoan to understand.” He shuffled the cards. “Best of three?”

The skies cleared overnight. In the morning, the light plane skittered to a stop on the soaked runway, picked up its passengers, both willing and reluctant, and sailed into the perfect blue sky back to Pago Pago.

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