Suddenly, Marnie bolted upright.  Disoriented, she looked around, not sure what had captured her attention.  She remained still, head cocked to one side, she listened.  Then she heard it, the sound of someone knocking.  Re-entering her cabin, she hurried to the door.

      “Who is it?” she asked.

      “Housekeeping,” came the muffled reply.  Marnie opened the door.  “Would like service today?” the steward asked.

      “No, thanks, not now,” she said.  “I’ll be out of the room for dinner around eight.  You can take care of everything when you come to turn the bed down.”

      “Thank you,” came the smiling response.

      Marnie closed the door, looked at her watch, and was surprised to see that it was three-thirty in the afternoon.  Where had the day gone?  If she didn’t snap out of this malaise, the trip and Aunt Margaret’s money would be wasted.

      Marnie went into the bathroom and started the shower.  Maybe a hot shower held the mystery to the relaxation she was supposed to be enjoying.  While she waited for the water to warm up, she turned and stared at her reflection in the mirror.  The haggard look that had concerned Aunt Margaret was clearly visible.  Her hazel-green eyes had lost their sparkle, and her reddish-brown hair was limp; it could use a good wash and condition.  And those dark circles under her eyes made her look like a raccoon.  Her ginger-colored skin seemed sallow.  Hell.  She was only thirty-five years old; she looked older.

      Disgusted with the macabre mask of her former self, Marnie spun away from the mirror, dropped her robe to the floor and stepped into the shower.  She adjusted the showerhead and stood motionless beneath the pulsating sting of the water.  She allowed her mind to go blank, fully concentrating on releasing the pent up tension of the past few months.  She was on this cruise to soothe her soul, and to escape the pain of her loss, not to sit around brooding.

      Feeling refreshed from the shower, Marnie laid out her clothes for dinner.  To jump-start the healing process, she decided a little narcissism wouldn’t hurt.  She meticulously dried and styled her hair, and then she did her nails, knowing that the strappy sandals she planned to wear would display her brightly colored toenails and her toe ring.  By the time she was done, the illuminated dial of the bedside clock drew her attention to the time; seven forty-five.  In a panic, she jumped to her feet.   She was never late; she dressed in record time.

      Rushing from her cabin, it wasn’t until she was in the corridor that she noticed the choppy movement of the ship.  She held on to the side rails as she hurriedly made her way to the dining room.  After dinner, she strolled along the promenade, looking in shop windows as she moved toward the bank of elevators closest to her stateroom.

      It was relatively early when Marnie reached her cabin.  So she quickly undressed, showered, donned her nightgown, and then she laid out her clothing for the morning’s excursion into the rainforest.  Retrieving the brochures about the rainforest that she had collected at the tour counter when she signed up, she climbed into bed.  She perused the booklets, and then she set them aside, still not understanding what she was going to see.  But, according to her aunt, it was a mystical place . . . a place of peace and harmony.  Well, whatever . . . her aunt had paid for her to go on this outing, so she would go.  But the bottom-line . . . she couldn’t work up any enthusiasm about it.

      Marnie switched off the lights, snuggled down beneath the covers and immediately fell asleep.

      The ship had already docked when Marnie woke the next morning.  Infusing a little excitement into her demeanor, she quickly dressed and made her way up to the Lido Deck for breakfast.  Opting for a light meal, she had half a grapefruit, a cup of coffee, and a bowl of raisin bran.  Afterwards, she hurried to her assigned departure area.

      Once her group left the ship, they formed a clique around their designated bus, clambered aboard, and headed out.  Listening to the non-stop babble of her fellow travelers, the time passed swiftly.  When they arrived at the entrance to the forest, a deafening sound of silence erupted into the incessant chatter inside the bus.  Marnie stared out the window, mesmerized by the sight of such rich green foliage and the mist that seemed to envelop yet evaporate as the bus plowed forward.

      The bus pulled into a parking lot dotted with other buses and came to a stop.  Marnie emerged captivated by the magical quality of the setting, and attuned to the sounds . . . birds chirping, and insects buzzing.  Her attention floated back to reality with the intrusive sound of the tour guide’s voice giving the standardized instructions about the necessity of staying together.  When the guide started off down a trail leading deeper into the forest, Marnie and her fellow companions dutifully followed.  As the trail narrowed, they were forced to walk two abreast, which left Marnie to bring up the rear alone.

      Engrossed in the beauty and the musical sounds of nature, Marnie had no idea when, or how, she got separated from the rest.  But she didn’t panic.  She had a good sense of direction and she was sure she could find her way back to the bus.  Continuing along the isolated path, she moved deeper into the forest.  Then suddenly, she stopped.  Head tilted to one side, she listened.  A hushed silence enveloped her.  The birds had stopped twittering; the insects had quit buzzing.

      Marnie moved forward cautiously; she had the eerie feeling of being watched.  Pulling her camera from her bag, she held it up to her eye, and panned the area while she adjusted the focus.  Through the view finder, she noticed what appeared to be a face, partially obscured by the shadow of the trees.  She lowered the camera and stared at the place where the face had been.  It was gone.  Pretending a nonchalance that she didn’t feel, she moved forward while peripherally keeping sight of the place where the face had been.  When the face didn’t reappear, she shrugged.  Maybe her imagination was on overload.  The place did have a whimsical quality.

      Marnie lifted her camera up to her face and proceeded to take pictures of the surrounding area.  There were exotic flowers that she couldn’t identify.  But she wanted to capture their beauty in just the right light so she could have the picture enlarged and framed for her aunt.

      After several shots from different angles, Marnie continued her trek deeper into the forest until she entered a small clearing.  It appeared to be a perfect circle, which made her think of the pictures she had seen of crop circles.  A cold tingling sensation shot to her nerve endings.  Cautiously, she moved forward until she felt she was dead center, and then she stopped.  She lifted her camera to her face, and she was about to pan the area when she froze.  Marnie was no longer alone.

      Marnie didn’t lower her camera, she needed to get a picture; this was not her imagination.  There were men, women, and children, all scantily clad in what appeared to be some sort of soft animal skin.  The men wore loincloths, and Marnie could only describe the women and children’s clothing as resembling long tank tops.  The men had decorative paintings or tattoos across their chests and down their arms, and the entire group wore head bands of twisted leather that circled their foreheads and culminated with the ends braided into their shoulder-length, straight black hair.

      Before she had a chance to snap a picture, an older man separated himself from the group and warily approached her.  Not daring to move, and barely breathing, Marnie tried not to flinch when the man extended his hand toward her.  She made no attempt to take his hand, so the old man lightly grasped her arm and led her over to the rest of the group.  The men boldly smiled at her while the women and children kept their eyes downcast, surreptitiously peeking up at her from time to time.  The men conversed with each other in a language Marnie didn’t understand, and when the fast-paced conversation stopped, she was surrounded and led deeper into the forest.

      Marnie’s mind was clicking faster than the shutter on an automatic thirty-five millimeter camera.  Shouldn’t she be afraid?  Who were these people?  The brochures didn’t mention any tribes living in this forest.  Although, she had seen documentaries on the National Geographic channel about natives of the South American Rainforests, she couldn’t recall anything about inhabitants of the Costa Rican Rainforest.  Still, it was odd, she wasn’t afraid.  Instead, she felt embraced by a euphoric sense of well being that she hadn’t experienced since before the death of her father.

      Marnie was led into another clearing.  As she looked around, she saw huts built high up in the trees, connected by an intricate network of ropes, wood bridges, and ladders.  In the center of the clearing there was a stack of wood next to a shallow pit.  The women approached Marnie, took hold of her hands and led her to a brook that ran along the edge of the clearing.  With hand signals the women indicated that she should wash.  Relived, because she was feeling a little gritty, Marnie followed the women’s example and knelt down beside the brook, cupped her hands together and scooped up the water, splashing it on her face.  A clean, soft cloth was thrust into her hands.  After drying her face, she returned to the clearing.  The men had a fire going in the pit and some type of animal was being rotated on a spit over the flames.

      The old man who had originally approached her, motioned Marnie to come sit beside him.  She figured that he was either the chief, or a very important elder of the tribe.  Once she had lowered herself to the ground beside the old man, she accepted a crudely made bowl from him.  With hand gestures, he indicated that she should drink the liquid in the bowl.  She raised the bowl to her mouth and reluctantly took a sip.  She had no idea what it was, but the fruity taste allayed her fears; it was cool and delicious.  A meat she didn’t recognize, the texture a cross between rabbit and chicken, and some type of lentils and sprouts, was served on large tree leaves.  Everyone ate with their fingers.

      After the meal, there was dancing, and the women prompted Marnie to join in with their native ritual.  As she stomped her feet, clapped her hands, and twitched her hips, she felt a lightness of being, as if she had been transported back in time.  Back to a time when she didn’t have so much sorrow in her life.

      One of the women stuck a bright pink wild flower in Marnie’s hair just above her left ear as she continued to move to the rhythmic beat of the drums.

      Finally exhausted, Marnie returned to her place of honor, sank to the ground, and oblivion.

      Darkness had settled over the forest by the time Marnie regained consciousness.   She shot to her feet and looked around.  She was alone.  But as she got her bearings, she realized that she was back at the parking lot on the fringes of the forest.  All the buses were gone.  What time was it?  How was she going to get back to the ship?

      Marnie scanned the buildings and noticed a light illuminating the sign over the visitor’s center.  She moved toward the light and arrived on the stoop to find that the doors were locked.  But someone was moving around inside.  She knocked several times before the door finally opened

      “Where did you come from?” A tall man dressed in what appeared to be a park ranger’s uniform stood towering over her with a none-to-pleasant frown marring his features.

      “I came on the bus from one of the ships,” Marnie said.

      “Oh, you’re the one they lost,” he said.  “ Well, come on in while I get my keys, I promised to get you back to your ship, if you turned up before ten.”

      “Thank you.  I really appreciate your help.”

      “No problem.  Couldn’t leave you out there alone.  I was just locking up, so I could go search for you,” the ranger said.  “By the way, where the heck have you been all day?  We searched the  most popular tourist hideouts.”

      “I have no idea where I was.  But I met a friendly tribe of forest people.  I spent the day with them and lost track of time.”

      “Excuse me!”

      “That tribe of people who live way back in the forest.  They were kind enough to take me in and feed me, before bringing me back here.”

      “Lady, I don’t know who you imagine you met out there, but no tribe of people lives in this forest.”

      “What are you saying?  That I imagined that I met those people.  That I made it up!”

      “Calm down, miss.  I’ve worked these forests for the last fifteen years.  There has never been a tribe of people here, to my knowledge.”

      “But I saw them . . . I ate with them . . . and I even danced with them.”

      “Miss, let me get you back to your ship, you can have the doctor look at you, and give you something to calm you down.”

      “I don’t need anything to calm me down.  I know what I saw,” Marnie said.  “But you’re right . . . please, take me back to the ship.”

      The drive back to the docks was accomplished at breakneck speed.  Marnie figured the man wanted to get rid of her nutty ass as quick as possible.  Still, regardless of what he said, she knew she had met those people.  And the day spent with them would always have a special place in her heart.

      Marnie climbed out of the jeep and headed for the security checkpoint.  It looked as if the ship’s entire staff was waiting to chastise her.  Well, she didn’t want to hear it.  And no one was going to convince her that she didn’t meet that tribe in the rainforest.

      “Miss Tolliver, glad you’re back.  Any later and we would have had to leave without you,” the cruise director told her.

      “Well, thanks for waiting.  I appreciate your patience,” Marnie said.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go to my cabin.”

      Marnie brushed by the stunned staff and headed toward her cabin.  Once inside, she threw her bag on the bed and flopped down beside it.  Although no words had been spoken between them, Marnie had come away from her meeting with the tribe in the forest with a lightheartedness that she hadn’t felt since her mother’s death.  But had she imagined it?

      Marnie bounded off the bed and headed for the shower.   A quick glance in the mirror, gave her pause.  Leaning forward, peering closely at her reflection in the glass, she smiled when she saw the dramatic changes in her appearance.  The shadows beneath her eyes were gone, there was color in her cheeks; her skin was no longer sallow.  Then her eyes widened with a mischievous sparkle as she took in her overall appearance.  Still stuck in her hair, behind her left ear, was the flower the native woman had given her.

      Marnie’s smile broadened into a grin.  Even if no one ever believed her, she knew for sure that her encounter in the rainforest of Costa Rica wasn’t her imagination.

© Marie E. Reid