Don't Look Back Read Free Page B

wrong syllables, the cadence forceful and impassioned. He and his wife, the proud proprietors of Días Felices Ecolodge™, hailed from Mexico City. Eve liked him instantly. And disliked his wife in equal time. Lulu—from “Lourdes”—commandeered the passenger seat. With blue eyes and flaxen fairy-tale locks that required constant readjusting in the visor mirror, Lulu seemed as contrary to the surroundings as did the Americans bouncing behind her on the serape blankets covering the bench seats.
    The Baby Boomer couple two rows up oohed and aahed at Neto’s bit of trivia, and Eve did her best to retrieve names from the cursory introductions made at the airport. Harry—retired businessman in a guayabera, who stood too easily corrected by his wife. And the wife was … Sue. Sue from Omaha with the khaki travel getup.
    Behind them, two men traveling together. Will, a sportswear designer from Portland, was of the why-are-all-attractive-men-gay? variety, with the intense jawline and emerald eyes and exemplary stubble. And his partner, a muscley Abercrombie type who’d introduced himself wryly as Gay Jay. They’d come directly from a tour group in Oaxaca City that had included two other Jasons, so droll adjectives had been assigned.
    Beside Eve in the back sat a sullen woman in her thirties who’d staked out her seat before the others had arrived. Claire. Ruler-straight dirty-blond hair and focused, intelligent features. The newish dive watch strapped to her wrist signaled her intentions: She’d come accessorized to tackle the jungle. She noticed Eve looking and shot back a look of her own. Eve’s smile went unreciprocated.
    Up front, Baby Boomer Sue chattered on. So far she’d done most of the talking, her stories invariably featuring her as a crusader of common sense triumphing over bureaucratic inanities. “So I told him,” she was concluding, “‘Why are you gonna fax something when you can walk it—I don’t know— down the hall ?’” She rotated, pointing her perky round face at Eve. “And what did you say you do?”
    I’m a sellout who explains arcane contract exemptions to policyholders .
    “I work for a health-insurance company,” Eve said.
    This was met, appropriately, with bored silence.
    Charitably, Will spoke up. “You said you have a seven-year-old boy? That’s gotta keep you busy, too.”
    She heard herself say, “Never a dull moment,” and cringed. It had been her experience that people who said “Never a dull moment” experienced plenty of them. She flicked her thumbnail nervously against her wedding band, which she now wore on her right hand. She liked knowing it was there, that when she was out at the gym or a restaurant and wanted privacy, she could pop it onto her left ring finger and voilà—she disappeared.
    “Bueno.” Neto veered onto a dirt apron between mossy trunks and slammed the van into park. “We have arrived, my friends.”
    They clambered out, tugging luggage from the back. Aside from a raised bamboo walkway vanishing into the undergrowth, there was nothing manmade in sight. Just lush Sierra foothills. And the air. Eve’s lungs ached from the freshness.
    Back in the van, Claire slid across and paused by the open side door, adjusting something through the loose cotton of her pants. A metallic clank sounded over one knee, then the other, and then she used her hands to hoist herself up. Her legs stayed locked now, and Eve saw where orthotics bowed the sides of her sneakers. Claire took a few short, stiff-legged steps forward, her torso swaying.
    “Oh,” Sue said. “I didn’t realize you were…”
    Claire smiled brightly. “A cripple?”
    Sue flushed.
    Lulu came around from the rear of the van, hoisting a pack of supplies onto her back. “Welcome to the paradise.” She grinned cosmetically and headed for the walkway.
    As the others started after her, Sue’s whisper to her husband rose to audibility. “—just gonna slow us down.”
    But Claire moved with