Time, time, time…so exacting a mistress.
Larry mused he would not wallow in self-pity. Time was mightily too scarce for that.
He did not hesitate to establish a conversation with fellow American tourists, and frequently joined them at their table for dinner, spending at large for sumptuous meals, and plenty of good spirits.
He applied the same assertive and direct approach which had worked with Melanie, and curiously, it happened to work most of the time. As a matter of fact he mentioned his terminal illness, and this struck a cord in most people. Something about our fragile mortality wanted to make one grab on to dear life and enjoy it to the fullest.
Larry was able to get casual sex partners with relative ease, although not all of the time, nor with the same intensity obtained with Melanie. Still a good fuck is as satisfying as a drive through meal is when one is short on time and hungry.
On his frequent ventures to Isla de Mujeres, Larry developed a rapport with Juan, a guy who owned a small boat and made money by transporting tourists there. Juan was good natured, funny, and spoke very decent English. On one occasion Larry chartered his boat to be taken as far away from the shore as possible for deep sea fishing. They took a case a beers and Juan provided the fishing equipment for them.
The clear blue sky adorned with mounds of cotton white clouds which seemed just close enough to grasp, and the gentle sway of the water, lured Larry in a meditative state of mind. They enjoyed a moment of quiet camaraderie, their interaction easy going enough, that they did not need to fill in every moment with inane chatter.
Larry reflected that we come into the world alone, and if we must make the transition out of here alone, that was fine too. Ultimately, one had to find peace, and love from within.
Another day he chartered the boat to an island where Juan had suggested he try the guided tour of the island not walking exactly. It was more like a Tarzan type of transportation, swinging from thick vines from tree to tree. Larry laughed nervously, and refrained from telling Juan of his fear of heights. His ego would not let him admit it, although under the influence of a few beers, he had agreed to do it the following day.
After making the contact with the guide, Larry paid for Juan as well as himself to explore the rain forest in the Tarzan-like fashion. While making the ascent up the rope staircase of the formidable tree to the base where he would swing from, Larry felt the beginning of a cold fear breaking a film of perspiration on his brow. His hands felt clammy, and the chill ran down his side. He paused for a moment in his ascent, and Juan asked him why he has stopped. He was right under him. Larry said he was OK, and proceeded, careful not to look sideways but to focus on a solid grip on the makeshift staircase.
When ungracefully arriving at the summit of the tree platform, he ventured to look out the lush vegetation below and above him. A plethora of exotic birds, monkeys, and other animals watching him as if to mock him, daring him to fall and break his neck. This was surely the case by the loud cackling they emitted.
Larry was sweating a cold sweat now, not due to the humidity of the jungle. He felt dizzy and felt like giving up; yet going down that precarious staircase would be just as excruciatingly painful.
Juan came up behind him and assured Larry it was safe, it was fun; to go for it.
“There is nothing to fear, but fear itself.” These words were exactly what Larry needed to hear to conquer the monster lurking in his psyche. He grabbed hold of the thick vine and with no other choice, he swung off the platform.
The fear contracted his stomach muscles, and he screamed out loud, not from fear but from the exhilaration of the moment. The freedom and joy he felt, both from wrestling his monster, and the rapture of velocity and adrenalin rush he experienced in mid air, was thrilling beyond expectation.
Larry mused he would not wallow in self-pity. Time was mightily too scarce for that.
He did not hesitate to establish a conversation with fellow American tourists, and frequently joined them at their table for dinner, spending at large for sumptuous meals, and plenty of good spirits.
He applied the same assertive and direct approach which had worked with Melanie, and curiously, it happened to work most of the time. As a matter of fact he mentioned his terminal illness, and this struck a cord in most people. Something about our fragile mortality wanted to make one grab on to dear life and enjoy it to the fullest.
Larry was able to get casual sex partners with relative ease, although not all of the time, nor with the same intensity obtained with Melanie. Still a good fuck is as satisfying as a drive through meal is when one is short on time and hungry.
On his frequent ventures to Isla de Mujeres, Larry developed a rapport with Juan, a guy who owned a small boat and made money by transporting tourists there. Juan was good natured, funny, and spoke very decent English. On one occasion Larry chartered his boat to be taken as far away from the shore as possible for deep sea fishing. They took a case a beers and Juan provided the fishing equipment for them.
The clear blue sky adorned with mounds of cotton white clouds which seemed just close enough to grasp, and the gentle sway of the water, lured Larry in a meditative state of mind. They enjoyed a moment of quiet camaraderie, their interaction easy going enough, that they did not need to fill in every moment with inane chatter.
Larry reflected that we come into the world alone, and if we must make the transition out of here alone, that was fine too. Ultimately, one had to find peace, and love from within.
Another day he chartered the boat to an island where Juan had suggested he try the guided tour of the island not walking exactly. It was more like a Tarzan type of transportation, swinging from thick vines from tree to tree. Larry laughed nervously, and refrained from telling Juan of his fear of heights. His ego would not let him admit it, although under the influence of a few beers, he had agreed to do it the following day.
After making the contact with the guide, Larry paid for Juan as well as himself to explore the rain forest in the Tarzan-like fashion. While making the ascent up the rope staircase of the formidable tree to the base where he would swing from, Larry felt the beginning of a cold fear breaking a film of perspiration on his brow. His hands felt clammy, and the chill ran down his side. He paused for a moment in his ascent, and Juan asked him why he has stopped. He was right under him. Larry said he was OK, and proceeded, careful not to look sideways but to focus on a solid grip on the makeshift staircase.
When ungracefully arriving at the summit of the tree platform, he ventured to look out the lush vegetation below and above him. A plethora of exotic birds, monkeys, and other animals watching him as if to mock him, daring him to fall and break his neck. This was surely the case by the loud cackling they emitted.
Larry was sweating a cold sweat now, not due to the humidity of the jungle. He felt dizzy and felt like giving up; yet going down that precarious staircase would be just as excruciatingly painful.
Juan came up behind him and assured Larry it was safe, it was fun; to go for it.
“There is nothing to fear, but fear itself.” These words were exactly what Larry needed to hear to conquer the monster lurking in his psyche. He grabbed hold of the thick vine and with no other choice, he swung off the platform.
The fear contracted his stomach muscles, and he screamed out loud, not from fear but from the exhilaration of the moment. The freedom and joy he felt, both from wrestling his monster, and the rapture of velocity and adrenalin rush he experienced in mid air, was thrilling beyond expectation.
After Larry passed the hurdle of the first tree, Larry was fine to swing from tree to tree. He shed his inhibitions, t-shirt and shackles. For that day, he had become Tarzan.
To be continued…
