Chapter Thirteen
They walked around the back of the hotel to Julio’s car. A beat up old Chevy that looked like it had been in a few collisions in its time. Most of the rear wheel-arch dented inward, so the jagged metal almost touched the tire. He still had trouble with the fact that Julio was so happy to just drop everything to take them there, not that the hotel was busy—it could probably take care of itself. Despite this newfound information, Michael was still convinced that Josie would be going home none the wiser. Life rarely gave endings wrapped up in neat packages. As he opened the door and stepped into the back seat, he moved aside the junk-food wrappers and discarded liquor bottles that littered the back of the car. As Michael tried to pull his seat belt forward, it jammed in one place and wouldn’t pull out any further, so he gave up on it, letting it retract back where it came from.
***
Michael started to feel more at home as they drove into Chetumal —a port city bordering Belize. The small dive shops and palm trees dotted along the coast gave the place a Caribbean feel, and the many bars and restaurants catering to tourists gave him the urge to knock back a cold one. He couldn’t help but wonder why Julio wouldn’t have a hotel here instead and assumed it must be a lot more expensive to buy property here.
Julio pointed out various landmarks and suggested the two of them go to see manatees in the nearby mangrove shores. He then pointed out his cousin’s house on the left and Michael smiled and nodded. Josie perched on the edge of her seat with her face close to the window, taking in every little detail. Julio went onto explain how the various hurricanes that had hit the shores over the last few years destroyed most of the remaining old wooden clap-board houses, which were now replaced with concrete.
“There it is.” Josie craned her neck out of the back window and pointed over at the tall white lighthouse. “Can we stop?” she asked.
“Okay, but quickly. I want to take you on the boat, but don’t want to set off too late,” Julio said, and as soon as he slowed the car Josie jumped out, before he even had time to park up. He used the side-walk as a temporary parking space but stayed in the car. “Michael. Tell her to be quick. It’s a museum now. You know.” Michael was unsure how the tiny white box of a building attached to the lighthouse could be a whole museum. Instead of going inside, he waited outside and took in the sun.
***
After the museum had yielded no results, Julio drove them back in the direction of the port. Near to the main dock where the larger ships left from was a private port where Julio’s boat was situated. Julio parked up in front of the main arched entranceway and led them down a set of concrete steps. They followed a gangway to the wooden pier that stretched into the sea, and their footsteps sounded like a drumbeat against the wooden planks. Two rows of large boats and small white yachts swayed on the water, tethered to their moorings. Michael watched with interest as Julio jumped onboard the boat and started up the engine, wondering how Julio could afford a yacht, yet his hotel was like a ghost-town.
“What are you waiting for? Get on.” Julio swung his arms, gesturing at them to jump onboard.
Josie stepped over the side of the boat and waited for Michael to join her.
“Sit, sit,” said Julio, and as he climbed up on the side of the yacht, untying the bowline from the mooring, the boat started pulling away from the dock. Some people found the unnatural movement on water made them sea-sick, but it soothed Michael. The gentle side to side was comforting, maybe it harkened back to being a baby and being rocked in his crib, not that he remembered that, but he could imagine his mother sat over him, singing some sort of lullaby, back when she was alive.
Julio reached into a white cooler at the front of the boat and pulled out three bottles of beer that had probably been sat out in the sun for days. Still, Michael wasn’t complaining. “Let’s get this started.” He smiled and continued steering. “Enjoy. We should see Belize soon across the water.”
“Thank you.” Michael said, pulling off the twist top of his beer. It was lukewarm, but this didn’t phase him. As they got further away from the dock, the smell of boat-diesel dissipated, leaving the fresh salty sea.
Josie looked hesitant before she spoke. “So is there much crime here?”
“Chetumal is very safe. You’re safe here.” Julio looked in his element playing sailor, and they continued cruising along the calm water. Green strips of land flanked them in the distance, and the sky above was almost a perfect canvas of powder-blue with a smattering of feathery clouds. The boat started rocking with more gusto as they picked up speed and got further out. The water got a little more turbulent, but was still relatively calm. After they had sailed for around 30 minutes Julio stopped the engine. Michael hadn’t realized how loud the engine had been until Julio switched it off and they were just left with the sound of lapping water. It was like a different world on the sea. All the bull-shit of land left behind, and now they were just surrounded by sea, sun and sky. This is what Michael had had in mind, how he’d wanted to spend his last few days. Only now he got to share it with Josie. Not that she could appreciate it. He could sense it on her, the weight. Every now and then it would leave her, like when they danced on the hotel steps in Tulum. He hoped,
