It was the kind of morning I’ve experienced only in
Hawai‘i: plumeria-and-ginger-scented air, gentle humidity, trade winds rustling
the coconut palms overhead, shards of golden sunlight glinting off the turquoise
pool. I’m not much of a water person, but the aqua jogging class at Kon-Tiki
Sands Senior Living Oasis seemed a good way to get my feet wet—so to speak—in
the group activities offered here.
An easy camaraderie flowed among my new neighbors as
I followed the women through the unlocked gate, into a delightful courtyard
planted with a profusion of colorful blooms. Quite a change from mornings in
Manhattan. I’d just moved from a city of millions and an impersonal apartment
complex that housed thousands, to this co-op of twelve units. I could already
see I was going to love it here.
The woman called Coralee hefted her bag of workout
equipment. Her henna-red hair was cut in a wash-and wear style, her skin tanned
and heavily freckled. She power-walked across the concrete deck to a row of
lounge chairs, leaving the rest of us with a view of her toned backside. She
was in amazing shape for a woman who had to be near eighty. If that’s what
water exercise does, let me plunge right in!
“What’s that in the hot tub?” one of the ladies
called out.
Heads rotated toward the heart-shaped in-ground hot
tub—a relic, I’m told, from the building’s previous incarnation as a swinging
singles’ complex. Something pink floated on water’s surface.
“Looks like a towel blew in there,” someone else
said.
“Towels don’t float.” This was the tall,
mocha-skinned woman who’d introduced herself to me that morning as Tiare. I
guessed her age to be seventy to seventy-five but she held herself like a much
younger woman. With her coloring and high cheekbones, she might have been
Polynesian or even African American. Certainly she’d been stunning in her
youth.
“Whatever it is, someone should grab it before it
gets sucked into the filter,” said Sylvie, a pleasant looking woman who had the
self-confidence to leave her hair to its natural gray. I wondered about the
pair of white nylon panties she sported over her black one-piece swimsuit. No
one else had mentioned it, and as the new girl in town I certainly wasn’t going
to be the one to point out the wardrobe faux pas.
“I’ll get it,” Esther offered, making a beeline for
the hot tub.
Esther is a plus-sized black woman who wears her
hair cropped close to her scalp and dyed yellow-blond. She was the first friend
I’d made since moving into my newly-purchased condo four days ago. While other
neighbors had nodded a polite hello at the mailboxes or in the laundry room,
Esther presented herself at my door with a welcoming smile and a loaf of
freshly baked banana bread. I’d gratefully abandoned my unpacking and we
settled at my kitchen table for a gabfest, like two girls in a college dorm.
Coralee handed out blue Styrofoam aqua jogging belts
and barbells, while the others chatted among themselves, seemingly in no hurry
to get in the pool. I set my towel and my cane on a lounge chair, accepted one
of the bulky belts, and snapped it around my waist.
I was adjusting the strap when a shriek, unlike
anything I’d ever heard before, pierced the air.
I whipped my head around just in time to see Esther
go down in a heap beside the hot tub. The sound her body made as it hit the
concrete deck seemed as loud as a rifle crack.
“Oh no—Esther!” I shouted, grabbing my towel.“Someone
call nine-one-one!”
Dear God, please don’t let her hip be broken, I prayed
as I made my way toward her still body as fast as I could manage without my
cane. I refused to think about what medical condition might’ve caused her to
lose consciousness so suddenly.
Esther had landed on her back with arms and legs
splayed. She was out cold. The thick aqua jogging belt made movement awkward
but I managed to crouch and slide my folded towel under her head. Checking her pulse,
I looked to the group of swimsuit-clad women. Every one of them stood frozen in
shock, gaping at me and Esther—except Coralee, who held a cell phone to her
ear.
At least someone had her wits about her.
Esther’s heartbeat throbbed steadily under my
fingers. Her breathing was regular. I didn’t dare move her in case something
had broken in her hard fall. There was nothing more I could do for her until
the ambulance arrived.
Only when I felt sure Esther was stable was my mind
was able to register what I’d glimpsed in the hot tub. I struggled up from the
ground—a real trick with my bad knees—and peered into the shallow water.
A woman floated face down, a pale pink chenille
bathrobe spread over her back, her halo of curly auburn hair snaking out from
her head like Medusa.
“I need help!” I yelled as I hurried down the steps
into the hot tub.
How long had she been here? I knew from my Red Cross
First Aid class that seconds can count. I needed to get her face out of the
water.
My feet hit the slippery tiled steps and shot out
from under me, plunging me into the tepid water. I went under. Using the rail
to right myself, I hurried to the woman, grasped her shoulder, and struggled to
turn her onto her back.
She flopped over with a small splash. Her bathrobe
gaped open in front, revealing her naked body. I reached for her neck to check
for a pulse, but instantly recoiled.
“Oh God, no,” I whispered.
The woman’s eyes were wide open, clouded with death.
There would be no pulse.
Unable to take my eyes off her, I backed away, up
the steps, distancing myself from the body as fast as my trembling legs would
move.
Then I saw it.
I froze, staring in morbid fascination. Her left
breast, a double-D, bobbed with the movement of the water. Her right breast lay
empty on her chest like a deflated balloon. What had happened to this poor
woman?
I wanted to look away, but I could not. When I
reached the top step, I lost my footing and tumbled backwards. Pain shot
through my derrière as it made contact with the hard deck, inches from where
Esther lay.
Great. Now two of us were down. Well—three, if you
counted the woman in the hot tub.
Stunned, I took several deep breaths before gingerly
moving my arms and legs, checking for damage. Nothing seemed to be broken, but
I was going to have some spectacular bruises tomorrow.
Esther stirred. Little noises came from her mouth,
like someone talking in their sleep, trying to come awake from a dream.
“Esther—are you okay?” I asked.
Her eyelids fluttered. “She’s … dead … isn’t she?”
I glanced toward the hot tub. “I’m afraid so.”
“Lord have mercy. Go forth Christian soul from this
world …” Esther mumbled as the wail of an approaching siren filled the air.
Great opening chapter. The characters could be some of my relatives. Looking forward to reading the next installments.
ReplyDeleteThank you Gail!
DeleteIs this hopefully Louise Golden adventures again? Louise Golden, Atlanta, Ga. :))
ReplyDeleteHi Louise Golden! This is Louise's step=mother who I introduced in HOW FAR IS HEAVEN? Louise will make brief appearances in this book too.
ReplyDeleteExcellent first chapter pulled me right in! I can't wait to read more.
ReplyDelete