“What kind of treatment are you getting again?” Kate asked, putting down her book.
“This Dead Sea mud thing. Basically they cover you in dirt and then massage it off. It’s supposed to be great for your complexion,” Lily said.
“You know you can do that for free when we go to the actual Dead Sea on Friday, right?”
Lily rolled her eyes. “I think the mud they have is supposed to be cleaner, or something. Anyway, what’s the point of getting covered in dirt if I can’t get it massaged off of me by (fingers crossed) a really buff guy?” She took another swig, rattling the ice to free the liquid trapped at the bottom of the cup. “I hope they don’t try to talk to me during the massage. I hate that. This is supposed to be relaxing, like just leave me be. Not to be racist, but it’s so hard to understand people here anyway, even when they’re speaking English.” Kate wanted to object, but couldn’t think of anything to say, so she merely nodded vaguely.
They fell silent as the drink boy scuttled past again, this time to deliver a concoction with strawberries impaled along the rim to a middle-aged woman in a sun hat. He gave the same nervous half-bow and Kate felt sorry for him. He must be boiling in those black pants, she thought. It had to be at least 90, and the sun was almost directly overhead. But the boy didn’t appear to be sweating. He was made to endure this kind of weather, she decided.
The resort drew tourists from many countries, visible by the different varieties of swim attire sported by the sunbathers. Kate had played guess-the-nationality for several hours yesterday, and was beginning to attain a fairly high degree of accuracy, as far as she could tell. The Germans were sunburnt as lobsters, and the men tended toward Speedos with little sense of embarrassment. The English were pale and fussy, slathering their children with tubes of sunscreen as the fiery line of the sun crept across the tile towards their chairs poolside. The Spanish depended their tans and stood at the pool’s edge, drinks held aloft to protect them from children’s splash. There were no Jordanians.
Every so often Kate felt self-conscious at how artificial the whole situation was. She’d had these sudden flashes of objectivity often on this trip, as she and her classmates stood on the top of Mount Nebo, squinting in the sunlight and half-listening to the tour guide drone on about the men who had wandered these mountains thousands of years ago. She saw herself leaning against the protective railing, head on hands, and felt she should have learned something. Wasn’t this supposed to be educational? It was difficult to justify a resort by the sea as a necessary expense for a university educational field trip. Last night, as Kate, Lily, and a group of their fellow students drank cheap wine on the balcony of one of the girl’s room, she’d looked around at the happy, relaxed faces of her friends and felt completely alone. They sipped their wine with an elegance she tried to emulate. The life did not seem real to her, still. Even with the scholarships and the subsidies, Kate couldn’t fake the kind of confidence the rich girls seemed to possess naturally.
“Almost time for my masaaaaaaage!” Lily sang out, stretching her arms high and yawning. The sun caught the tiny metallic letters on the sides of her glasses, and a sparkling LV danced in Kate’s vision. “Another drink for the road, I think,” she giggled. She beckoned the boy in the sky blue polo over again, and within minutes a pink cocktail dripped condensation onto the tile. As she stood to go, a little unsteady, her bag swung from the crook of her arm and knocked it to the ground. A syrupy pink puddle spread over the tile by her feet. “Ugh, shit.” She nudged the glass with the tip of her flip flop. “Get someone to clean that up, will you?” She traipsed off, her flip flops clacking on the tile.
As soon as Lily disappeared between the palm trees, Kate leaned over to pick up the fallen glass. She felt vaguely embarrassed, and drew her knees up to her chest and returned to her book. The sun crawled across the tile and Kate felt the familiar unease of being alone in a place she felt she didn’t belong.
I like the discomfort in the character, but here's the thing: there's no suspense because not a lot is happening in the scene. She has feelings she doesn't share with others. She feels uneasy and as if she doesn't belong (lost in the woods) but she's not yet an active character. This is what you need to work on.
ReplyDelete