Hurricanes and Rainn

Chapter 1

Hurricanes and Rainn

By Gavin Atlas

There he was, the guide from Dominica Paradise Tours, and perhaps one of the handsomest men Rainn had ever seen. Strong chested, broad shoulders, caramel skin, and a brilliant smile. The guide recognized Rainn this time. After all, the minibus only seated ten, and this was Rainn’s third tour. The guide smiled and scratched his chin. The smile reached his eyes, and Rainn felt weak.

“Come sit up here by me,” the guide said, his bronze face beaming. He moved some papers and patted the seat to his left. Rainn felt his stomach go fluttery, bit his lip, and moved past the other tourists. Rainn did not feel he handled loneliness well, and his time in Dominica had been the loneliest he could remember. Even this small act of companionship soothed him.

“Sam, isn’t it?” Rainn asked. Rainn mentally kicked himself. How disingenuous could he be? Of course, he knew the guide’s name. He’d requested to be on Sam’s tour the last time. And this time.

Sam grinned. “Um, yes. That’s me. And you are?”

“Rainn.”

Sam gave him a mischievous, lop-sided smile as if he could read Rainn’s thoughts of the tour guide ravishing him. The look disappeared, and Sam stuck out his hand. “Rainn is a good name for Dominica. Pleased to meet you, my friend. Though we have met before, I believe.”

“Yes, actually. I, uh, I’m learning a lot.”

Sam winked. “That is good because, for you, there will be a quiz later.” He narrowed his eyebrows. “You’ve been here more than a week, haven’t you? And you’re American?”

“Yes.”

Sam stroked his chin. “A longer vacation? Or have you moved here?”

“Oh, well, not a vacation but I’m not here permanently either.”

“Perhaps a medical student then?”

Rainn looked down. “Oh, gosh no. I didn’t even get through college.”

Sam nodded but didn’t respond. The last of the other tourists had settled into their seats, and Sam began his tour. He talked about the history of French and English rule and of native Kalinago still living on part of the island. Soon they reached an overlook where the tourists could take pictures of their cruise ships and the colorful town of Roseau. Sam stepped out of the bus with the group.

“So,” began Rainn, “both Tropical Storm Erika and Hurricane Maria? That must have been horrible.”

“We’re still recovering,” said Sam. “Which is why we’re glad to have visitors take our tours more than once.” He pointed at Rainn’s cloth satchel. “You could have left your bag on the—did you buy groceries at the Save-a-Lot?”

Rainn nodded. “Some fruit and some bread. Gosh, the climate must do something strange to the bread here. It goes bad so fast.”

Sam laughed. “No, you Americans do something strange called ‘preservatives.’ You buy bread every two days here and you’re fine.” Sam raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re not a medical student, but you’re here for work, perhaps?”

“Yes.”

“But you’re too shy to tell me more information unless I ask,” said Sam with a grin. “That’s okay. I’ll figure out the mystery.”

Rainn laughed. He studied Sam’s profile and thought to do detective work, too. He seemed lighter-skinned than many of his country folk. There was a slight wave to his hair, including a copper-colored forelock he regularly smoothed. Rainn figured Sam was of mixed descent—something they sort of had in common.

Back on the bus, Rainn asked where the locals sheltered during hurricanes.

Sam smiled. “Folks,” he said to the whole group, “our friend, Rainn, is apparently here in Dominica to stay, and he appears to be concerned about the storms.”

The tour group, mostly senior citizens, laughed gently. The lady nearest him patted his shoulder.

“You’ll be fine,” Sam said. “We mostly shelter in government schools and the bigger churches. We take good care of each other.”

Sam pointed at a sign that said, “Sukie’s Bread. Eat It By Choice, Not By Chance.” Next to the sign stood a tiny wooden shack that sold provisions. “We need to stop for a moment to get Rainn better bread than what he has. All of you will try it.”

Sam honked and a thin, grizzled man emerged from the shack. The guide held money out the window, and in short order, the older man returned with several loaves. Sam passed around the loaves after breaking off some for Rainn. The bread was warm, soft, and doughy.

“What flower is that on those trees?” a lady in a floppy hat asked.

“The orange one? African tulip trees. You’ll find them throughout the Caribbean.”

“And what about those over there?” she asked, pointing out the window.

Sam bit his lip. “I’m blanking. It begins with an ‘H.’”

“Heliconia,” said Rainn. “Sometimes known as ‘false bird of paradise.’”

Sam arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t know that. The mystery deepens,” he whispered.

They made their way to Jaco Falls through thick rainforest, sheltering banana plantations. Sam answered questions about the bananas left alongside the road.

“It is from the Bible. When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings. Leave them for the poor and for the foreigner residing among you.” Several of the tourists nodded.

Rainn smiled. That detail was one of his favorites about Dominica. They did seem to take care of each other.

A tour member asked about another flower.

Sam slid his eyes to Rainn. “Bougainvillea, I think. Is that correct, Rainn?”

“Uh, that’s lantana,” Rainn said.

Sam smiled. “Oh, that’s right.” He looked at Rainn’s hands and arms. “Aha. You do a lot of outdoor work, don’t you? Some manual labor?”

Rainn smiled. “I do.” He hadn’t intended for this to become a game, but now that it had, he enjoyed it.

Rainn had been to India to see the Taj Mahal, Italy to see the duomo in Florence, and Spain to view the Alhambra. Though with his love of the rainforest and tropical flowers, he felt Jaco Falls was the most beautiful place he’d ever been. Even if he’d never be an environmental scientist, his love of nature was endless.

Sam spent his time taking photos of the tourist couples with their cameras and phones. Then he asked if he could take a photo of Rainn with his own phone.

Rainn blushed. “Do you ask for photos of your guests often?”

Sam laughed. “No. This is a first, my new gardener friend.”

Rainn’s eyes opened wide. “How can you tell I’m a gardener?”

“Your callouses. The kind of tan you have for a Yankee. Your knowledge of plants is better than mine. And I’m trained to know them.”

Rainn looked at the lush foliage and brilliant flowers surrounding the small waterfall and pool. “I’m still learning. Here there’s so much to know. It’s incredible. I’ve been to most of the islands, and this is my favorite.”

Sam smirked. “If it wasn’t, we would have issues, mister. But as it is, we’ll keep you.”

A glossy hummingbird flitted into view, visiting several large flowers. The tourists gasped and hurried to take pictures. Of course, they wanted to know what it was.

“A purple-throated Carib,” Sam said. “Big and brave for a hummingbird.”

“They made it through the storms okay?” Rainn asked.

Sam shook his head, appearing nonplussed. “Of course. They are sturdy. Just like all of us. You’ll see.”

Sam dropped off the other tourists at the dock, bidding them farewell in the same manner as his last two tours. “Here, in Dominica, we don’t like to say goodbye. We say, ‘until we meet again.’” He told Rainn to stay behind.

“Where may I drop you off, my new friend?” Sam asked. “I have about an hour before my next tour.”

Rainn hesitated. “I don’t want to bother you. I was just going to buy more sundries in Roseau and then find a taxi.” He wished there was a way to travel by bicycle or, at least, minibus, but roads were bad, and his trailer wasn’t near any route.

Sam stretched and rubbed his knuckles against his chest, almost preening. “May I ask where home is?” His voice had become deeper. Softer, but sultrier.

“I’m staying in the temp housing of the Windemere Hotel that’s breaking ground. That’s where I’m working.”

Sam’s expression changed, and Rainn thought he detected an unexpected chill.

“I see. That’s a coveted job for a landscape designer, I’d imagine. How did you end up working for them?” Sam asked.

“Oh, I’m not the designer. Like you said, I’m a gardener. I’ll be honest. I have trouble reading and concentrating, and well, with nerves. You can probably tell about that last one.”

Sam smiled and nodded.

“So, it’s best if I do work that doesn’t require much in the way of studying. And flowers are good co-workers. They rarely complain about deadlines or profit margins.”

Sam laughed. “But there must be uncomplaining flowers in America. Why Dominica?”

“Well, despite the storms, I do love the Caribbean. Mainly, though, my parents know the Windemere family, and they’re doing me a favor. My parents and I aren’t close, so perhaps it’s best if I’m not around.”

“What? A knowledgeable gardener and very big tipper? Who wouldn’t want someone like you around?”

“Well…” Rainn didn’t know how to answer honestly. “Maybe because I’m not a fancy executive.”

Sam lowered his voice to a whisper. “Because you’re not some fancy executive or because you’re gay?”

Rainn looked carefully at Sam. There was the topic they’d been dancing around, but Rainn knew this wasn’t the safest conversation to have in a place like Dominica. He decided to be honest. “Both. And…how do your parents feel about it?”

Sam winked. “My mama worries but supports me as long as I don’t bring home a fancy executive. My stepdad is another story. Hey, let’s meet tomorrow. We’ll share a meal, get to know each other, and, uh, maybe talk about your employer.” He patted Rainn on the shoulder, squeezing gently. “Until then, my new friend.”