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sign the usual release forms?
Marike nodded. Yes. But I don t want to rely on them. I
don t know how well they ll stand up in court. I ve never had
an accident at Osten s Bay, so I ve never had to test them. I
might still have some legal liability.
Possibly, Klee said. But only if it could be proven
that you were negligent. I doubt you were. You re a damned
unreasonable woman, but you run a good operation here. I ll
take your statements, then go over to Curacao to talk to the
divers. I don t think you have anything to worry about. He
ran a hand through his short blond hair. Do you really want
to press charges?
Maybe, Marike answered, looking at him suspiciously.
Why? Do you think I m just being a hysterical female?
Overreacting?
Klee closed his eyes wearily. I didn t say that, Marike.
Marike snorted. No, but you thought it, didn t you?
You re transparent, Rolf. You always have been.
Damn it, ever since your father disappeared
Leave my father out of this, Marike told him quietly.
I m running Osten s Bay Aquaventures now, and I ll take care
of business as I see fit. And if I want to press charges against
those two brainless buccaneers, I will.
Klee shrugged. Have it your way. You usually do, he
added resignedly. Why don t I go to the shop? You can finish
up here, go change clothes, and meet me there.
Marike nodded. All right. Make yourself comfortable.
There s some cold beer in the back by the air compressor. You
know where. Give me fifteen minutes or so.
Klee walked slowly away up the dock and Marike shook
her head, stepping back down into the boat where Gail waited.
Thick-skulled Dutchman, she said with a certain amount of
affection. He s just like me. Maybe that s why we ve never
48 Lauren Wright Douglas
gotten along.
Gail looked at Marike thoughtfully. It was obvious that
her new friend was fonder of Rolf Klee than she wanted to
admit.
Let s take a look at your coral cuts, Marike said briskly,
changing what was clearly a painful subject. Then, I insist
you be my guest. For dinner at the very least. She shaded
her eyes, looking at the sun. It ll be sunset in an hour or two.
Unless you have to get back to your hotel, why don t you stay
over? She smiled at Gail. Would you like to?
I d like to very much, Gail said honestly.
It s settled then, Marike told her. And before dinner
we ll try to see the green flash.
The green flash? Gail asked, looking at her curiously.
Marike laughed. A Bonairean specialty. Something like
the Northern Lights. When atmospheric conditions are just
right, the sun gives off a green flash just as it disappears behind
the horizon. Seeing it is supposed to bring good luck.
Have you ever seen it? Gail asked.
No, Marike said. I watched for it every evening when
I came back here after college, but I didn t see it. That was
twelve years ago. Then, after my father disappeared, I gave
up. She made a face. I figured waiting for the green flash
was about as silly as waiting for luck.
Oh? Don t you believe in luck?
Marike frowned a little. I m not sure. I haven t been very
lucky. Does that mean luck doesn t exist? Maybe not. Maybe it
just means I haven t had my turn yet. Or maybe we have to go
out and make our own luck in this life. She shrugged. I like to
think I m still open to the idea that there might be something
as mystical as luck. Just as there might be such a thing as the
green flash. She gave Gail a dazzling smile. Who knows
maybe we ll see it tonight. Now, why don t you come on up to
the house and I ll fortify us both with a couple of belts of good
Dutch gin before we pour peroxide on our cuts.
Osten s Bay 49
" " "
Gail sat on the porch of Marike s house, a gin and tonic
in hand, waiting for her new friend to finish showering and
join her. Gail had showered while Marike was at the dive shop
talking to Rolf Klee. Now, dressed in a pair of white shorts
and a blue T-shirt belonging to Marike, she sat in a pleasant
glow of fatigue and inebriation. She was grateful to Marike
for suggesting that she spend the night she was simply too
tired to navigate the winding coast road back to the Institute.
Clinking the ice cubes in her drink, she smiled ruefully. No,
fatigue wasn t the only reason she was glad to be staying. If she
were honest with herself, she would admit that the prospect of
spending more time with Marike was appealing.
Why do I want to see more of this woman, she asked
herself. Is it because she, too, is a woman in a man s world,
doing a job similar to mine? Do I want her for a friend? She
considered this possibility. I ve never had a woman friend, she
realized. Possibly because I ve been afraid. Afraid of the inti-
macy. Disturbed by the realization, she took another sip of
her drink.
A door opened behind her, and she heard Marike talk-
ing to her housekeeper Juliana, Wim s wife. Mouth-watering
smells had begun to waft from the kitchen. Gail guessed that
supper must be almost ready. She stretched, enjoying the
unaccustomed luxury of having no place to go and nothing to
do. Of having someone else make the decisions about what to
cook and when to serve it. Of being waited on. She chuckled.
Watch it, she told herself. You could get used to this.
Marike came out onto the porch, closing the screen door
behind her. She wore a pair of dark green shorts and a pale
yellow T-shirt. Her hair was still wet. It clung to her forehead
and the back of her neck in little curls. Gail tried not to stare.
My God, she s beautiful, she thought.
Marike smiled. Hi, she said, moving a high-backed
50 Lauren Wright Douglas
rattan chair close to Gail. She put her drink down on the table
between them and walked around, lighting the citronella can-
dles sitting in glass globes on the porch floor. Mosquitos and
gnats, she explained. As soon as the sun sets, they ll be after
us. I don t know about you, but I ve given enough blood for
one day.
Gail laughed. I couldn t agree more.
Marike raised her glass and clinked it softly against Gail s.
Here s to new friends, she said, her eyes shining.
To new friends, Gail repeated, feeling her face grow
warm under Marike s gaze.
Marike smiled and looked away. Let s get ready for the
flash, she said, putting her drink down. It s almost time.
Gail joined Marike at the end of the porch. Come on
down here, Marike said, holding out her hand. The best
view is through that clearing between the trees. Marike
stood close to her, a hand on her shoulder. Now watch the
horizon.
The sun was a copper ball sliding slowly into the sea,
staining the sky peach and lavender, salmon and rose. Gail
wondered how she would ever see anything green amid that
riot of colors. And would it be bright green, or simply an
olive smudge one color among many? No, Marike had said
it would be bright. A flash. Dutifully, she looked. But as the
minutes passed, it became more and more difficult to concen-
trate on anything other than Marike s hand on her shoulder.
She does this sort of thing so easily, Gail thought, so. . . natu-
rally. She remembered Marike s hand on her arm as they were
about to enter the underwater cave, Marike s fingers pressing
hers as they knelt together on the deck of the Whaler. She
marvelled. Marike seemed to possess a complete courage as
perfect as Gail s was flawed. Oh, she could swim into under-
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