Caribbean Passion

Lucia and Pablo eyed each other. Pablo's smouldering eyes gazed at her, intense, steady, almost unblinking. Lucia looked away into the middle distance beyond him, casually moving a strand of hair behind her hair. "Where do you come from?" he asked. The seemingly-innocuous question was loaded with desire. She came from his midnight dreams, the kind of woman he thought about in a hundred showers as a teenager, the olive-skinned vision that lit the desire in his heart with a flame that burned down to his loins.

"Brazil," she replied. The single word of her country was spoken as though it was a challenge.

"Colombia", said Pablo. His eyes dropped to her luscious lips, then slowly rose back to her eyes.

Lucia noticed. His slow-burning gaze, when lowered, took the heat off the encounter for a split-second, but this only increased her wanting. She felt a dampness between her legs, a curling tension down below. It was exciting and she enjoyed it. When his eyes returned, it was as if the tropical sun had come out again from behind a cloud and once again beat in waves upon her as her eyes took in the liquid fire they contained. She looked at him, almost defiant in her pose. "Medellin?"

Pablo's mouth cracked into a smile, revealing rows of pearly teeth. "My hometown," he said.

Lucia was taken aback by that smile. The intense seriousness of his initial gaze had suddenly cracked open and this dazzling new vision had appeared; and she stood basking in the sunlight revealed, her own face breaking into a shy smile at his handsome countenance. She breathed in slowly and deeply, then spoke. "So. What brings you here?"

Pablo allowed her to break the tension, declaring matter-of-factly, "I'm a dancer. I've just signed up."

Lucia's heart skipped a beat. HE WAS GOING TO WORK HERE! She calmed herself and looked at him. "Well, I'm the Social Hostess." She suddenly moved forward. "I guess I'll see you around."

He looked surprised at this sudden move, as she walked by him. "I'm Pablo."

"Cool," said Lucia, continuing to walk away, increasing her distance from him. She didn't look back.

Pablo watched as her pert backside swayed off down a corridor. He smirked. If the women here all looked like her, he thought, this new gig was going to be fun.

Still standing at the head of the staircase, he turned and saw the Pursers Office. He was astonished to see a bubble-gum blonde, with thick, cupid's-bow lips, her hair in bunches, mascara on her eyelashes and a hot T-shirt and cute shorts, topped off with ankle socks and girly, pink sneakers. Pablo walked up confidently to the counter. "Hi," he began.

Lisa turned to see the gorgeous hunk standing right next to her. Her eyes widened as she drank in his face. Her eyes dropped lower. "Well, hi," she replied.

Pablo grinned. "Hey, my face is up here -- stop looking at my chest!"

Lisa laughed out loud. "Huh! Is THAT it? I'm just checking out the merchandise."

"I thought as much," remarked Pablo.

"What might you be doing here?" questioned Lisa.

"I'm the new dancer."

Lisa turned back to the counter but still smiled. "I see." She bit her lower lip, stifling the tickly feeling that was rising up inside her. Suddenly she frowned as she thought of something. She swivelled. "What kind of dancer?"

"Well, I do clubs and -" began Pablo, taken aback somewhat by her sudden change in demeanour.

"Strip clubs?"

"Well, I've done -"

"OK, I get it," interrupted Lisa. "So have I -- and I know your sort." She prodded her finger against his chest. "Guess what -- I've done my time in clubs and I've met guys like you before. Basically you think you're some gift for women and that the ladies will just fall all over you; but I know there's nothing else about you. You might think you're hot but you're just a fantasy body with an empty heart."

"Right, well, I guess you know your stuff," responded Pablo, somewhat miffed at this.

Lisa was firm. "I do -- more than you will ever know."

"And are you a dancer?" countered Pablo, frowning.

"I was, but not here. I got out. Now you're out, too, you'd better shape up fast."

"What -"

"Just know that I'm not happy to see you here, actually. I don't want to go back to that and I'm bummed that it has come here in the shape of you."

"Are you coming to work here?"

"No, I'm leaving. I've done my time here. It's better than what I came from but it's just a stepping stone. I'm moving up and on and out."

Pablo leaned his arm on the counter and looked at her. "I see."

"I'm the Social Hostess here but today's my last day. I happened to see the new one walk off down the corridor just before you showed up. Did you see her?"

"Actually, I did."

Lisa glared at Pablo. "Well, you listen up. You keep your hands off her and get away from her. She's a good woman and a quality piece of work." Lisa looked down. "Unlike me."

"Uh-huh." Pablo looked at her. He guessed what this woman was about.

Lisa looked back up at him. "I suggest you do the same as I do and give up your stupid strip club ways. No one needs it around here and especially not Lucia. You're out of that scene now. STAY OUT." She turned back to the counter.

Just then a female Purser arrived. She was short, Asian, with shoulder-length black hair that curled attractively inwards at the end. She wore thick glasses but behind them were elegant, almond-shaped, delicate eyes, setting off a cute, pert mouth covered with a discreet layer of baby-pink lipstick. She wore the officer's uniform of white blouse and white skirt, with lapels and name tag, plus white socks and shoes. Smooth, creamy, shapely legs separated the hem of the skirt from the top of the socks. She smiled at the blonde on the other side of the counter. "Hi, Lisa. Checking out?"

"Yeah," replied Lisa. "Moving up -- get me off this dump of a tub!"

Pablo looked at the Purser and smiled. "Who might you be?"

Lisa glared at him from the side.

"I'm Mercy Santos," said the Asian Purser.

"Hmmm," replied Pablo. "A Spanish name for an Asian woman."

Mercy replied, "I'm from the Philippines."

"Right."

"Are you checking in?"

"I guess so. I'm the new dancer."

Mercy smiled. "Great." She produced a paper form and placed it on the counter. "Fill this in." She turned to Lisa, producing a different form. "This one's for you."

Lisa glanced at Pablo. "Right," she said, testily.

"Lisa, huh?" Pablo smiled at her.

"That's my name -- don't wear it out," said Lisa, dismissively.

Mercy interrupted. "I'll call the Cruise Director to meet you," she said to Pablo. "What's your name again?"

"Pablo. Pablo Rodriguez." He smiled at Mercy.

Lisa pushed her paper across the counter towards Mercy. "Here," she said. "I'm out of here," she remarked, turning to Pablo. "See ya, Pablo -- and remember what I said."

Pablo blinked at her. "I'll keep it in mind."

"You'd better." Lisa turned to pick up her bags next to the counter. "Bye, Mercy. Thanks for everything!"

"Walang anuman," smiled Mercy.

Lisa picked up her bags and headed for the exit. It was time to step up further, she thought.

Later, Lucia was having dinner in the Staff Mess. The food was just all right. Just then, a member of the Cruise Staff. A Hispanic woman, about 22, dark hair, slim, wearing the usual golf-shirt-and-slacks uniform, flopped down in the chair opposite. "Hi, I'm Marcia."

"Lucia," said Lucia, raising her eyebrows.

"Dave's driving me crazy," remarked the woman.

"Oh, yeah?" asked Lucia. "What's up?"

"I was supposed to do the conga line this afternoon but Dave kicked me off it and now I'm up for the Crew Party tonight."

"What -- there's a Crew Party?"

"Yeah, sure." Marcia looked surprised. "Didn't you know?"

"No..."

Marcia looked at Lucia. "Well, I guess you're new. There's one every month at about this time. It's on the Rope Deck."

"Huh? Rope Deck? Where's that?"

"Hmph? SOME STUPID POKEY LITTLE JOINT OUT BACK! They usually do it in the Rendezvous and move the passengers out to the Miramar Lounge for one night but this time the Captain wants us to hold it there. IT'S TINY!"

"Well, that sounds tough," remarked Lucia.

The waiter placed a plate of food in front of Marcia. She looked down at it. "I'm starving!" Looking up, she said. "You're the new Hostess, right?"

"Yeah. Lisa left this morning."

"I know -- and that bums me out."

Lucia was interested. "Why?"

"She basically didn't do anything wrong. The Greeks up on deck forced her out."

"She kind of told me the story -- not a good situation."

"I'LL SAY! Bunch of creeps!" Marcia sighed. "I think Lisa could have made it easier on herself, though."

"How so?" asked Lucia.

"She was basically downbeat and depressed. She acted like she just expected people to screw her over."

"I don't blame her," replied Lucia. "Did she tell you about..."

"Yeah. Not everything -- but enough to get the picture."

"Right."

"Hey, are you coming tonight?"

"Well, I didn't know about it -- but, yeah, I guess I can come. I've got the Captain's Dinner tomorrow but nothing's on my schedule for tonight -- well, just some meet and greet, but that'll be done by seven."

"GREAT!" smiled Marcia. "See you then!" She frowned. "Hey -- what are you wearing? For tonight, I mean?"

"Oh, I don't know," replied Lucia. "I'll figure it out!"

The night was clear and the stars were bright as the "S.S. Oceanwave" cruise ship cut its way slowly through the calm blue waters of the Sargasso Sea between Florida and the Bahamas. It was a glittering evening.

Edward, the skinny British Assistant Purser, was sitting on a wooden bench next to the stern at the monthly Crew Party. He was wearing a black suit, white shirt and black bowtie on the Rope Deck, drinking a bottle of beer, relaxing with about thirty Latin American workers and some Filipinos. The Latinos called him "El Flaco" ("The Thin One"). Latin merengue music was playing loudly.

Just then, the Social Hostess arrived. She was wearing a light-coloured crop top and dark trousers, held up by a wide belt.

Lucia wanted to dance, but not with the Latinos, who were loud, rude and drunk. She looked around and saw Edward. There had been an early show in the Rendezvous Lounge, where Edward had done a tap-dancing routine with the woman from the Calypso Band. She had been Jamaican, and Edward had been teaching her tap-dancing for about four cruises already down in the Disco on the First Deck under the water line. The Jamaican was Black, and Edward had told her that, since tap-dancing had original been a black man's music back in the 1920's, he would ave been disappointed if she couldn't pick it up. As it turned out, she had been amazing, so Dave Richards had invited them to do a warm-up at for the early show in the Rendezvous. The audience had roared and been delighted, so now Edward was sitting there in his black bow tie outfit, feeling on a high. Lucia stood in the middle of the Rope Deck and decided that Edward would be her dance partner. She waved her hand to make him come over.

"I don't know how," he shouted over. It was noisy. She kept waving and the Latinos encouraged Edward, so he got up and stood next to Lucia. She held his hands, while someone changed the music. The music started and he danced with her. "I didn't know you could dance merengue," he said.

"This is not merengue," replied Maria. "I'm from Brazil, so we're dancing samba."

"I've never done this before," Edward continued.

"Don't worry," she said, quietly. "Just copy me."

So Edward tried to copy her. The arm and upper body movements were easy, but the steps were a bit hard and the hip movement was very difficult. Maria noticed he was having trouble with this.

"Watch my hips," she said. She moved closer and put her hands on his hips. Edward tried to feel her hip movement through her hands, but he still couldn't get it right. Her hips were moving up and down, while his were moving side to side. How could they move up and down when his legs were the same size? Yet Lucia was doing it fine.

Lucia tutted and Edward felt that she was getting annoyed with him. "I'm sorry," he said to her. "It's difficult for me." He started feeling down. He wasn't doing it very well.

"No problem," said Lucia, patiently. She moved closer. Her face was now right in front of his, but Edward was still doing it wrongly. Then Lucia looked at him as if to say, 'can I trust you?', and Edward looked in her eyes as if to say, 'this is me'.

"Don't worry, nothing's going to happen," Edward said -- and nothing did. She moved forward and their hips touched together, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. Now Edward could move his hips the same way as hers, and he could feel the rhythm of the music.

The Latino guys saw immediately that he was dancing better, and began to shout and cheer in Spanish as Lucia and Edward moved around the small space. Now that he didn't have to think about the movements any more, he could concentrate on the music. He saw how the hip movements went with the rhythm. He was dancing samba! Then he felt something.

It started in his stomach as a small, excited feeling. Slowly, it spread up his body, into his chest and into his heart. What was it? Was it good or bad? It seemed nice. Where did it come from? Edward realized it was coming from the music -- the Latin rhythm was working slowly into his heart. As he held Lucia and danced the samba, the feeling got stronger and started pulling him, drawing him along, tugging his body, wanting him to move with the music. He felt like he was standing in a fast-moving river -- not swimming, but standing. "Come on, COME ON," it seemed to be saying. "Move, let's go, join us -- let's go out to the sea!" What on Earth was this? Should he say yes or no? The river in Edward's heart became stronger, faster-moving. He thought a bit more, then suddenly decided. O.K., let's do it, he thought. He moved forward and let his body move with the music. He forgot about steps and the way he looked. He felt the music, so he didn't need to listen any more. Edward just used his body to show how he felt. Lucia was surprised -- her eyes opened wider and she began to smile. The Latinos were cheering more loudly and their sound and the samba filled Edward's ears and mind.

One Latino guy turned up and said, "Eh, what's going on?"

"Maria's dancing with El Flaco," said another.

The river in Edward's heart flowed through his body. Lucia was keeping up with him, and he thought, 'Wow, she's an amazing dancer', as they continued dancing. Finally, he forgot the world and just let her do everything. He lost all to the music, and the river rushed on, ever-wider, ever-stronger, ever-deeper, onwards and outwards, until it poured out into a deep, blue, endless ocean.

The music finished and Lucia walked him over to the side and they sat down.

"You dance very well," she said.

"Oh, well -- I couldn't do anything before you helped me -- I danced the steps so badly."

"Don't worry about the steps," she said, standing up. "You can feel the passion. Some people can do the steps but can't feel the passion. You can feel the passion. Keep doing that and you will be a good dancer."

Then she turned around and left. Edward felt like he had experienced something very special, and unforgettable. It was so amazing, so exciting, so free and so fun -- and you know what? HE LOVED IT.