“Careful,” Ken said. He grasped me by the inner elbow and pulled me upright.
“Thanks,” I said. He held my arm for a moment longer than necessary.
“Saved your life.” He was edging into flirtation.
“I am forever indebted,” I said, matching his tone but pulling away.
“Seriously. People get swept out to their deaths all the time. That’s why I never swim here.”
There were ships on the horizon, large tankers that looked like bath toys from this distance.
“What are they bringing?” I asked.
“Shiny things for rich Bamas. Cars, televisions, sound systems.”
“What else?”
“Food. Rice from India, stockfish from Norway, processed food as basic as tomato puree.”
“They don’t grow tomatoes here?”
“They don’t preserve them.”
The water got colder. The waves grew stronger. My mouth tasted of salt.
“I’m going back to the shack,” I said, and he followed me. We sat facing the ocean, as if we had not just left it. A breeze blew in carrying fine bits of sand.
“Getting chilly. We should go soon. Or huddle for warmth.”
He put his arm over my shoulder. I let it rest there. The weight was not unpleasant.
“So what do you think of the country so far?” he asked.
“Still trying to take it all in. I don’t want to miss anything.”
A seagull flew low and fast, skimming the waves. It circled and repeated the maneuver before flying off.
“What are your plans for the rest of the week?” he said.
“Sightseeing.”
“And?”
“Shopping.”
It was dusk now. A party had started at the far end of the beach. The boom of a bass reached us, slipped into my bloodstream.
“Let’s dance,” I said. I got up and pulled him to his feet. His movements were jerky but he laughed at his own inelegance. We swung between dancing apart and dancing together.
“I hope you’re having a good time,” he said.
“I am.”
On one close orbit, he caught me by the waist and kissed me. I was flattered by this interest from a reasonable prospect of a man. I kissed him back, a fumble of lips and tongues. With one sharp tug, he unraveled the knot of my halter neck.
“People will see,” I said.
“Not if we’re discreet.”
We moved farther into the hut. I stood with my back to him, shielding myself from view. His hand fastened to my breast, teased at my nipple, stretched it this way and that like warm toffee. The music sped up, the beat more urgent. I rubbed against his groin. It was a dance from my youth, a night out at university, simulating sex on the dance floor. I could feel the tip of Ken’s arousal. He pushed forward and I pressed back, our hips moving in a circle, spinning like a top.
I dragged his hand between my legs. He stroked me with the heel of his palm, up and down the slim triangle of nylon. I felt the distant tremor of a climax.
Muffled footsteps, dulled by the sand. We froze like children in a party game.
“Would I lie to you?” The voice was behind our shack. Only a thin wall separated us. I pulled up my swimsuit.
“I said, would I lie to you? Don’t make me drop this phone.”
The footsteps faded.
“He’s gone,” Ken said, reaching for me.
“We should get back to the hotel,” I said. “It’s dark.”
I put on my clothes and gathered my things. The mood was awkward. We didn’t know each other well and we were too sober to laugh it off.
In the taxi, Ken tried to hold my hand.
“Not here,” I said, tipping my head towards the driver.
Once we drove into the hotel, I opened the car door.
“I’m on the seventh floor,” Ken said. “Seven hundred and two. Or I could come to yours?”
“Actually, I’m not feeling too well,” I said, “but thank you for a lovely afternoon.” I got out and left him with the bill.
In the elevator, I rode up to my floor with a spotless waiter. He glanced at me when I entered, our eyes meeting over silver cloches.
“Good evening, madam.”
“Good evening.”
In my room I undressed and showered. I was covered in sand from the back of my neck to the crevices of my thighs.
It was not how I imagined my first day in Bamana. It was the kind of thing I warned Rose about when she went traveling on her gap year. Beware of strange men in strange countries. Yet here I was, twenty-four hours into my trip, tits bared to a consultant I didn’t even know.