The Lines We Wouldn't Cross (Queen of the South)

Part 4-One Day At A Time

James came out of the bathroom after taking more than 15 min under the hot water. His bones felt liquid and his muscles loose. His head was still heavy, and he sensed he had overdone the hot shower as he had trouble filling his lungs with air. He grabbed a towel, dried off his hair with brisk movements and fumbled tying the towel around his middle while opening the door simultaneously.

The bathroom was filled with hot steam, and he needed out. The coolness of the room air struck him as he sat heavily in the armchair by the desk.

After a minute he slowly got up, took the steps to the bed with the intention to grab his clothes and toss them in the hamper and stopped short as his discarded top was bunched in a heap close to the middle of the bed. He made a face as he clearly remembered laying both top and jeans at the bottom of the bed, one on top of the other. He liked order, he never tossed stuff around. A quick gaze to the desk confirmed that his wallet, cell and gun were lined up the way he had left them there. What the heck? I am imagining things! Phoenix can't be repeating itself!

He hesitantly sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose as there seemed to be a faint hint of a cool breezy perfume, the one he had smelled on her when they had kissed in New York. My wild imagination is taking the better of me! She never wore perfume before, but now she is The Boss, so why not?

After he looked around some more, he shook his head to clear it and decided that the Boss had put up the Wall again and had established the Lines of communication loud and clear, so he had to suck it up and stick to the plan for the 'other life', whatever that may turn out to be. But as he put clean clothes on, his mind couldn't shake the thought whether he would be able to love The Boss the way he had loved his Mexicana, the one with the charming shy smile and unruly hair.

He had tried to sleep but unsuccessfully; even the whiskey hadn't helped. Everything seemed so impossible, and the loneliness was crushing him with its weight. He wasn't sure when he had made the decision, but he put on socks and jeans, grabbed his jacket and wallet, and walked out of the room. He felt the need to be out from under the same roof with her and everyone else, and before he knew it, he found himself behind the wheel of the SUV he'd been driving during the day. The keys had been on the wall, lined up with the keys for the rest of the vehicles, just as he had left them a little over an hour ago.

He drove without direction for about 10 minutes after he left the compound; then a thought crossed his mind. The marina and the speedboats that Chicho had shown him the other day suddenly felt like the place to go to!

He didn't stop to analyze the sudden appeal but when a few days ago Chicho had talked about renting a speedboat from the 24 hr. rental shack and taking his girl on a speedy race with the waves, James had remembered the way he had enjoyed the only time he had ridden a speedboat: from the USS Independence that had been docked five miles off the cost of Karachi to the Karachi port on his way of being deployed to the US controlled zone near Kabul.

Not long after that he was alone on the rental boat; it wasn't very big, it could sleep two people at the bottom, but the tank was full, and the manner it picked up speed, tearing through the still dark water of the port, brought a smile to his face.

He cranked it to full speed and held on tight as the wind blew at him senseless, making him squint, almost unable to see as the water sprays hit his face and body. He went in circles a few times and then steered the boat inside, in the dark invisible horizon that very much resembled his soul.

When he finally stopped pushing the lever and the boat came to a stop in the black middle of the bay, James sat down hanging his feet above the water and stared in the darkness, his mind void of thoughts, his heart numb. The silence felt odd, even the water could not be heard lapping on the boat; slowly he felt the calm coming over him; he lay down under the starless sky and closed his eyes to the exhaustion that engulfed him.