4.13 The Abyss
The manager, Gary Trofin, his badge stated, cleared his throat and said, “Your rooms are over this way, if you will be so good as to follow me.” Was he indicating we had to be good to follow him? I wanted to giggle, but I knew it would be inappropriate. I was just tired, punchy tired as Cara, Sammy, and I used to get when we’d toured an entire museum without any coffee break. The key cards were handed out, and the manager took off, scurrying away, no doubt, to oust the siege of reporters who’d laid a trap for us on our former floor. Would all the media be banned from the hotel? Would we suddenly be free from further pursuits? The layout of our new room was exactly like our old one, except missing all the niceties: the fresh fruit, treats, and flowers. But we had fresh towels and a luxurious bed, which I planned to try out the moment I felt clean again. Only I had no clothes to put on after my shower. As if reading my mind, which he’d probably done, Timothy opened the closet and pulled out two white robes. Over-sized and fluffy. Perfect. Dinner was ordered, then we showered, and lying on the bed in our soft, cottony robes, we waited to fill our tummies. We’d decided against something elegant and had chosen a vegetarian pizza. That and some herbal cinnamon tea and chocolate cake for dessert. Yes, we had a salad, too. We weren’t completely ignoring nutritional needs. The meal arrived almost an hour later. Speedy, the hotel wasn’t. Starved by then and wishing for the big bowl of apples, we dived into that pizza like prisoners getting our last meal. As pizzas go, it didn’t rate a ten, or even a seven, but it was there, and we were hungry. About the time the dishes were being cleared away, two maids knocked for entrance and, pushing large carts, they delivered our clothes and other possessions. The second cart held not only the apples, fresh treats, and cheeses, all skillfully and quickly moved to the room’s table, but a brand new bouquet of roses. Red ones. A card accompanied it with an apology from Gary Trofin and in addition, a bottle of champagne on ice. One of the maids asked if Timothy would like her to open the bottle, and he nodded. The woman popped it, and bubbly was poured into two glasses. Bobbing their heads to both of us with a quick nod and an even speedier good evening, the two women scurried out of the room, as if they feared we’d have more work for them to do. The two carts, then empty, were rolled squeakily out of the room. Timothy handed me a glass. “I don’t drink,” I reminded him.
4.12 The Abyss of WonderLand
Timothy gave me a quick squeeze. “They have a job to do, Penelope, and conversing with you is not part of it.” Wow, double sting for poor Bob. I gave him a quick sympathy look just before I started to step out of the elevator. I would have gone forward, but Timothy suddenly jerked me back and hit the close the door button. “That was our floor,” I said, slightly exasperated because I was super ready to put my feet up and relax in our luxurious suite. “Reporters are hanging out in the hallway,” Timothy said, looking back at the men, not at me. “Call the desk, Terry. This needs to be reported immediately.” Apparently, Mr. Peters had not been scorned as we’d assumed. He’d rallied his troops and invaded. Timothy’s cheekbones tightened. He looked like he was ready to sock somebody. I was tired from the day. I really, really didn’t want to play spy games with a bunch of reporters. “Can’t we just ignore them and head for our rooms?” I asked, despite the hardness in Timothy’s eyes as he glared at the elevator’s control panel. “Terry, get us new rooms and have the staff remove our things afterwards. I don’t trust this situation. Who does Simone know in San Diego?” Did I need a hair appointment or new clothes? What did Simone have to do with a crazed reporter? I wanted to ask, but sometimes it’s better to remain silent. The hotel manager himself met us on the ninth floor. He looked rather out of breath, but I’m sure he’d just used the other elevator to get up there ahead of us. He waved us forward and off the elevator. “I am very sorry for this. I was unaware. Of course, we can find you new rooms. This is an outrage, and I will have it taken care of at once.” The man was wearing a three-piece suit in gray charcoal. His tie was boring. It picked up the same gray tone as his suit and displayed black diamonds. Simone would have dubbed him unimaginative. Even the man’s hair seemed tedious and dull. The hotel manager could slide through a murder case, entirely unnoticed. I wondered if his wife would recognize him in a line-up. My grandmother would say that it was rude thinking such thoughts, but thoughts were private. The manager couldn’t read my mind like Timothy did. I glanced up to see Timothy’s eyes on me. As usual, he was amused. Yep, he’d definitely read those thoughts. He must think me a shrew of the worst kind to be so judgmental. Timothy leaned into me and pressed his mouth against my ear, “Not at all, my dear. You are the only part of this episode that can make me smile. Shrew or not, I find you absolutely adorable.”
4.11 The Abyss of WonderLand
But then I remembered what she’d told me in high school. “Don’t fall for the pretty boys. Everything has come too easy for them. They never learned how to struggle, so when they get older, they turn into whiny little boys in grown up men’s bodies.” Yet, even though Timothy was gorgeous, that didn’t describe him. He’d struggled in his earliest years. He’d fought with courage, industry, and determination. He’d had to grow up without parents, relatives or friends, and I knew that he would never become a whiny person. I wished I could explain that to my grandmother. I wished she were here with me, so I could. The elevator bell dinged as we hit another floor. The door slid open. I peeked into a hall that looked exactly like the one in our floor. It was a strange thought that there were mirrored ripples of rooms, each one filled with guests doing San Diego things. Had some of the people gone to the zoo and to Sea World? Had they spent their day inside an office, doing business things, unaware of the ocean so close by? San Diego was close to Mexico, a whole different country. I asked the guys how far it was as the elevator door silently slid closed. “Seventeen miles,” Terry said. “I looked it up, curious about the distance.” Timothy growled slightly, not in a vexed way, but as if I’d asked him if we could make a quick visit there. “We are not going across the border my darling. It’s not really safe anymore. Too many drug lords, ruffians, and criminals wanting to kidnap a pretty lady like you.” I nodded, pondering that. “Okay. I just wondered,” I said softly. “I’ve never been out of the United States. I’ve never been out of California, actually.” I laughed, more from embarrassment than because I thought it was funny. “Then we shall plan to honeymoon someplace in Europe. Which will it be: mountains, beaches, exotic, friendly, lots of coffee bars?” The last one had me laughing, this time in earnest. “Yes, to all that.” Bob laughed then, too. “Congratulations. A wedding is a good thing.” Terry’s elbow was bopping at Bob’s ribs. I guess the guys weren’t supposed to engage with me, but geez, they’d been with us for every hour of our adventure. It was hard not to include them in conversations. Timothy took a moment to give Bob a look: stern, judgmental, and authoritative. I ignored Timothy’s gruffness. “Thank you, Bob,” I said, still wondering if I’d made a commitment to go through with the marriage. Had I? Was it a certain thing? I mean, just because we’d discussed weddings. . . Hadn’t Timothy said he didn’t want to push me into one when I wasn’t ready?
4.10 The Abyss of WonderLand
Chapter Thirteen It was easy to take the beauty of the hotel for granted. I’d walked through its elaborate reception room a number of times, but I still had that first stunned moment at each entrance into the reception room. It was frankly stunning. The red carpet, the chandeliers, the classy seats and tables with individual lamps. I think it was the shine of it all that hit me mostly, as if lemon polish had just been applied to every piece of wood and someone had made the glass of the door and windows sparkle. And then there was the huge wooden desk with the women all in a line, doing whatever they were supposed to do, looking busy, but glancing up to smile each time anyone approached. Their hair was always immaculate, and their dresses were minus a single wrinkle. The bouquet of flowers, a fresh one each day, held a practiced display of color, even if the flowers stank. Oh, and the huge wooden bowl filled with red delicious apples. I couldn’t forget them, even though I no longer grabbed one as we passed by since we had a bowl full in our room. As we rounded the corner, my eyes took in the elevator. I think that was the item that caught my eye the most. How did someone get that kind of shine? Unfingered or smudged. A shine so brilliant, you could actually see yourself in the reflection as you waited for the doors to open and to step inside. Timothy pushed our buttons, five this time, just in case, then smiled down at me. “Your face shows me all that I now fail to observe on my own. Never lose that ability my darling. I hope you always see the beauty in simple things like the shine of an elevator door.” Timothy’s words startled me. Was my face that reflective. Was I like the shiny elevator door, providing an image of my inner mind? But I said nothing and only smiled back at him. It was easy to do that. Timothy’s smile produced smiles, not just from me, but from everywhere. He had that quality of charisma, I guess they called it. I wondered what my grandmother would have said. Would she have fallen under Timothy’s spell as I had?
4.9 The Abyss of WonderLand
I’ve heard that there are people who dislike zoos and hate Sea World even more. I guess it’s bad to train animals to entertain us, and they are keeping animals in captivity in the three SeaWorlds, but perhaps, the benefit is that the more people learn about these creatures, the more they will want to protect them. Also, according to Frank, SeaWorld has reached out and saved 42,000 sick, wounded, and orphaned animals. Once these animals are rehabilitated, they are set free, back into the wild. Additionally, Frank told us that the Conservation Fund sends money to protect sea creatures all over the world. That’s something, something super good. The two giant scoops of ice cream we each got at the old time ice cream parlor were far too big for me. I’d chosen chocolate flavors, of course, and they were both delicious, but I couldn’t finish mine. I gave the rest of my cone to Bob when Timothy didn’t want it. Terry scolded Bob, saying. “That’s an extra three laps in the morning.” Bob didn’t even look guilty for being a glutton. He lapped at the ice cream like he hadn’t eaten in weeks, even though he’d just finished off his own hot fudge sundae with extra whipped cream and nuts. Terry stared at him and shook his head, but that didn’t bother Bob in the least. As we waited to hear from our driver, I was thinking about our day and about what we’d do the next day. Vacations always end, mostly when you’re not ready to return home, but I guess that’s a good thing. Otherwise home wouldn’t be home, right? Where would we be in the morning? Would we be flying home? (Horror of horrors. It was a short flight, I reminded myself.) I was just about to ask Timothy about what was coming next when we got the buzz that Alan was ready for us. We wiped up our mess, tossed our napkins, and walked out to the front where the limo was parked.
4.8 The Abyss of WonderLand
“The dolphins have whiskers at birth, but most species lose them as they grow,” Frank told us. Bob piped up, “That means they never have to shave.” I laughed. It was not only funny, but I’d been thinking a similar thing: no hair meant that Dolly didn’t have to shave her legs in the morning. Whoops, duh, no legs. When I started giggling over that, I had to sit down on the bench to get myself under control. Timothy took advantage of my moment of bench sitting to go up and touch the dolphin himself. I think the dolphin liked him best. She let out a squeak the moment she slid back into the water, then did a watery moonwalk, just for Timothy. Obviously, Timothy had charisma not just for human females, but for dolphin ones as well! Up until that moment, I hadn’t been sure that the dolphin liked us touching her. Frank told us that they were most sensitive on their snout, but their teeth were too sharp for me to reach out and touch one there. But, after Timothy rated such a tribute, I supposed that answered my question. It depended on who was doing the touching. We scurried off to see the beluga whales and the penguins. The penguins were adorable but smelly. But I absolutely loved the beluga whales. There were three of them: Allua, Klondike, and Oliver. They all looked the same to me, like triplets. But I guess their keepers could tell them apart. I asked Frank about seeing a manatee because I’d once read that Sea World had some, but Frank informed me that the manatees had been sent back to Florida. No more sea cows at Sea World. “We’ll just have to fly to Florida to see one then,” Timothy whispered in my ear, punctuating that with a gentle kiss. What a wild thought. I smiled at him, drugged by his nearness, but I was still conscious enough to shake my head. Stuff like that just wasn’t part of my life. A trip to Florida just to see a manatee? I laughed, a bit nervously because of his wild proposal. I could tell he meant it. We were all tired by that time of the day. I know we journeyed about on a cart, but there was still a lot of walking involved (and petting of strange creatures.) We were ready to say goodbye. There were a bunch of rides we could have gone on and more entertaining shows, but we said thank you to Frank and watched him drive off to the place where carts spent their night. As a finale, we decided to visit the ice cream parlor near the exit to wait for our limo driver to return to our drop off/pick up place. Of course, we ordered something. (We felt obligated. Ha ha.) Besides, the day was warm, our clothes were dry from the water ride and the animal splashes, and ice cream sounded ideal.
4.7 The Abyss of WonderLand
My least favorite part of the day was at the Flamingo Habitat. Flamingos are very beautiful birds, but they really stink. They were also extremely noisy. I’d thought they were like swans, elegant and mute. (Although when I mentioned that to Frank he told me that even the mute swan made a whistle sound, and then informed us that the trumpeter swans made a bunch of different noises, everything from honks to hisses.) When a couple of the flamingoes got into an argument, the noise level accelerated. Then they suddenly started poking each other with beaks and snapping at each other’s heads. It looked like they were having a dispute louder than the girlfriend/boyfriend combo in my apartment building that time. That couple had yelled, screamed, and called each other names for about twenty minutes. After their very loud and door-opening up and down the hall fight, both moved out of our apartment complex. I don’t know if they went in separate directions. I certainly hope so. But the flamingos seemed to get over their spat more quickly. They moved away from each other and went right back to doing their thing, which seemed to be leg juggling and water sipping. I won’t say that silence descended after that, but at least it wasn’t world war a la flamingo. I dreaded having an argument like that with Timothy. I just couldn’t bear it. “We will never have a spat like that, my darling,” he said, picking up the thought. “We are too attuned to each other.” Mind reading again. I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t move away. I liked his arm around me, and the way he sat closely whenever we watched some activity. In fact, I really, really liked everything about Timothy. He seemed to drip sweetness. (Amazing after my introduction to him when he’d seemed the most objectionable and the rudest person I’d ever met.) We left the salmon stinkball birds, and Frank took us to the Dolphin Adventures arena. That was an incredible show. I love dolphins. Who doesn’t? They are graceful, friendly, and adorable. Afterward the show, we got to get up close to them. Bob, always eager to stick his hand in a fish bucket, fed Dolly. I’d had enough of fishy substances and hung back, but I did reach out and touch her. Smooth and rubbery, kind of like the stingray. Frank told us their skin was hairless.
4.6 The Abyss of WonderLand
A while later, we rode something called the Arctic Rescue. They called it a straddle coaster. I was hesitant to do that, but the guys talked me into it. “It only goes 40 miles per hour,” Bob said. “You can be that brave.” Timothy argued, “She can skip it if she wants.” Forty miles an hour? Cars on the freeway go faster than that. Thinking like that seemed logical, even though I could hear the screaming and could see the way some of the riders were hanging onto the sides of the cars with whitened grips which should have told me that my initial judgement was correct, but I bowed to the pressure. And, of course, once the thing started moving, I discovered that riding such coasters was a lot different than sitting in a car seat contained in a nice, sturdy and comfortably heavy metal frame. Coward me, I shrieked and squealed most of the way down, and when the ride ended, I had legs so shaky I could barely stand up. Never, never again. I sincerely hate roller coasters of all kinds! Timothy’s arms around me and a few kisses for reassurance made my terror slip away. I leaned into him and forgot my moments of panic, but I did take the time to glare at Bob. He was the one who’d talked me into going on the ride. I wouldn’t be listening to him again. Feeding the stingrays in the Bat Ray Shallows was cool. It was kind of scary if you thought about how in the wild, rays could sting, but these didn’t. They felt like smooth rubber, only wet. Not impressive. But animals in all shapes were wondrous (even the scary sharks,) and we learned more about all the amazing sea creatures as Frank continued to weave his stories and offer fascinating facts. We ate lunch with the orcas. Luckily, our food was better than their raw fish. I had tortellini with marinara sauce and a side of roasted butternut with cranberries. I was also served a couple of tablespoons of Brussel sprouts, which was my absolute favorite vegetable. . . oh, and we got cupcakes for desserts. Of course, mine was chocolate. Meanwhile, the orcas were putting on a show, jumping up and diving down, excited about something. They were racing around their tank, faster than an animal that weighs more than 12,000 pounds should ever be able to go, at least that’s what I thought, but obviously the orcas didn’t agree. After stuffing ourselves, we moved into the stands of the Orca Encounter arena and saw the presentation. I guess that’s why the orcas were all agitated. They wanted a full audience to perform for. Timothy and I were spooning together, as old folks like my grandmother used to call it. The guys sat behind us. I know they were on duty, guarding us from the evils of such folks as Mr. Peters, but I think both Terry and Bob were enjoying the day as much as Timothy and I were. Bob, though, kept talking about how much fun the Artic Rescue was. He tried to convince me that I’d enjoy it more the second time. Not a chance.
4.5 The Abyss of WonderLand
In between all the oohing and ahhing, there were some sweet exchanges between Timothy and me. Neither of the guys paid attention to what we were doing since they were busy watching anyone who got near us, so a few kisses, hugs, and verbal interactions made the morning even more special. Being with the one you are falling in love with and sharing everything, well, let’s just say, that I was feeling like those jelly fish, just drifting in the watery depths of wonder. Timothy I was learning why some men called their wives honey. It was for the sweetness of their presence, the way the right woman seemed to bathe everything in a bubble of delight: with a smile, a kiss, a soft laugh. Everything Penelope did ricocheted inside my soul bouncing happiness about. How could I have lived without her quiet song? Of course, I had moments of disquiet. What if after our trip to San Diego, Penelope didn’t want me by her side? What if she grew tired of the trauma of men like Peters plaguing us, and even worse, what if she refused to join her life with mine? Could I endure a future without her? Such dark thoughts only struck me now and then. I couldn’t dwell in such worry, not when I was soaking up her joyfulness, her great enthusiasm for everything she saw. She was the zenith of all I’d ever wished for. Because she was beside me at that moment, laughing over the antics of a silly seagull strutting away with a piece of ice cream cone, I inhaled deeply and centered her warm giggle deeper inside my soul. Penelope The sea turtles at Turtle Reef were just my cup of tea. It’s not like they were cute, but they were enormous and rather sweet. We got to touch them and feed them. They seemed gentler than the seals had been. But in defending the sea lions, those seals did have the most adorable whiskers, and barked just like dogs. Well, almost. The turtles didn’t do anything except take lettuce from our hands. The turtles apparently had no speech, although Frank said they made a sound like a heavy yawn, emitting that sound in the water as a small eruption that came from their lungs. Perhaps they also blew some bubbles, but, in general, the turtles didn’t seem like you’d want to spend a lot of time with them, unless sea turtles were your thing.
4.4 The Abyss
I was a little unsure about picking up a fish and offering it to a sea lion, but after Terry showed off, saying it was easy, the rest of us followed suit. The shiny black female I fed had tickly whiskers and very bad breath, well, at least fishy breath. I guess that wouldn’t be nasty breath to another sea lion. Maybe, in fact, it was like cologne or perfume to other seals: eau de sea stink. We watched a show called Flippers, Facts, and Fun: the Sea Lion Experience. The show was adorable, funny, and incredible because the sea lions were more obedient than any dog I’d ever seen. (Yes, I know that some people don’t like seeing trained animals, but these sea lions (and otters) seemed quite happy to demonstrate their prowess in barking, diving and being cute. And it was probably easier for them to get mouthfuls of fish for a performance than to retrieve them in the wild where the sea lions might have to do an obstacle course with boats and sharks.) We toured the Jewels of the Sea where we got close and more or less friendly with a lot of jelly fish. First there were the moon jellies. They glowed. Then, there was a fourteen foot tall aquarium! It was like being in the ocean with them, except a lot safer. The interactive passages allowed us to stare up at a Gallery where we were surrounded by bioluminescence. It was all so wonderful. I’d say it was the highlight of the adventure, but Bob and Timothy both liked the fact that they got to touch the rubbery creatures. Timothy said the jelly fish felt like gelatine, the kind that is hard enough to make into cubes and sort of shimmies when you wiggle it. Bob said the jelly was a slimy balloon. Terry and I just hung back, more comfortable watching than putting our hands into the water. Next was the shark encounter. I was glad we didn’t feed or touch the sharks. They looked fierce and mean as they swam their restless circles. None of them paid any attention to us, which was a good thing. A staring shark might have given us nightmares. (Jaws in the flesh?) The Reef tidepool was filled with little kids. We didn’t stay there long, but we did see the starfish, mostly salmon-colored, although a few were tannish brown. All of them were elegantly shaped, like geometric art. (Okay, except one. It was missing a leg or tentacle or whatever. But Frank assured us it would grow the part back. He said that losing a limb was often a defense mechanism for the creatures, like a lizard losing its tail when a cat chases it.)