No denying it, she was terrified. Sweaty palms, harsh breathing, inability to focus. Yep, terrified. Damnit Janet, she didn’t want adventure, just relaxation. Janet said the cruise would be relaxing. She lied.
In Honduras, Janet signed them up for “The Extreme Adventure Package”. NO! Zip lining at speeds most race cars don’t obtain. Dangling feet inches above the trees, face peeling back like a gruesome halloween mask, screaming at the top of your lungs. To top it off, a million swaying rope bridges over jungle terrain that you crossed just to get back to sanity. She did it. Terrifying.
In Costa Maya it was riding ATV’s through a jungle, whipped by angry plants. No! Again she did it. Mud thicker than Frida Kahlo’s eyebrows assaulting you with dirt bullets. Covered with mud and green gooey plant blood that would never come out of tan shorts and a pale blue tank top. White tennis shoes, a funky green color never to be cleaned. At least there was a cocktail bar at the end of that one. The margarita had a beautiful smoky tequila that was strong enough to stop the nightmares, for a while.
Today was a perfect day. Blue skies, sunshine so bright it made you squint. Gentle breezes against your skin, cooling the tiny rivulets of sweat. There was soft music playing. Wiping her damp hands on her suit, she sighed. Here in Playa Del Carmen, moments from death, she was still saying NO, Hell NO! Her best friend must wish her dead. What better way than to make it look like an accident? The first two times didn’t kill her so make her face her worst nightmare. SHARKS! If she didn’t get torn apart like Captain Quint with blood spurting everywhere, she just might have a heart attack.
The dive master checked her gear and pushed her backwards into the sparkling water. Sinking down in the depths, getting her bearings, she calmed her breathing. Looking around, not a shark in sight, only colorful fish and coral reefs. It was peaceful here. No sound but her own breathing and graceful swaying plants. Turning around to get a better look, she stared into the face of the biggest shark she had ever seen.
Eyes wide, panic setting in, rapid breathing, this was it. She was going to die a horrible, bloody death and Janet would laugh with spiteful glee. She was petrified, probably a good thing, no thrashing about. That would be instant death. The guide swims up to her, tapping her shoulder. Turning, a flash of light assaults her. A big thumbs up from the guide, he beckons her to ascend.
Shaking and flopping into the boat she sees Janet climb in. If looks could kill Janet would flop to the deck like a fish.
“That was the coolest thing!” She exclaims, hugging her tight. “YOU are a shark whisperer.”
The guide hands her a flash drive. “The best picture I have ever taken.”
She grins. Phobias forgotten.