Night Tour

Written by Katerina Petrou

Monica slammed her Imperial beer down on the picnic table, taking a seat with the other hostel residents.
   “My car didn’t show,” she said, taking a sip of her sweating drink. Sour fizzy beer flooded her mouth. Imperial was the classic lager of Costa Rica and the cheapest.
   “He didn’t show up?” asked Simon with his French-Canadian accent.
   Monica held back her smile. Something about the French-Canadians was amusing. To any onlooker, he seemed European. But Quebec was only a short drive from the English-speaking town Monica grew up in.
   Her mind swirled with all the possibilities of why the driver didn’t show. It didn’t make any sense. They agreed upon the transfer many days ago. The price was fixed, and the weather was fine. But he didn’t answer his phone, not from her nor from the hostel. Her research program started in a few days, she planned to be there early. The thought of staying her any longer made her anxious, but what other choice did she have?
   “Can’t they call someone else?” asked Penny. Her blonde bob swung as she spoke. Penny was from North Carolina, USA. She brought it up every chance she could. Loud and proud.
   “Wilbur said it’s too late to call someone else,” answered Monica. “The roads in the dark rainy season aren’t safe. I’m going to have to wait until tomorrow…”
   Another night here wouldn’t be too bad, she thought. The hostel was a glorified campground, nestled in the rainforest. Bunk beds were in permanent yurts. They worked at keeping out the rain, but not much else. The common space had views of the towering dormant volcano. It was beautiful.
   “So,” Monica clapped her hands, “what’s the plan for tonight?”
   “Night walk tour,” answered Simon between bites of his dinner. “It’s a private, small company. I’m sure you can join,” he added.
   The night walks were known for being a great opportunity to spot wildlife since these animals were most active at night.
   “Sounds perfect,” Monica answered.

—

   Monica, Penny, Simon and their new friend Raphael, drove 15km from the hostel deeper into the rainforest. Penny drove slow down the twisty, windy roads. She wore her extra-thick glasses and leaned up close to the windshield while never exceeding 40 kmph.
   “Are you sure we’re going the right way?” asked Raphael.
   “Yes,” said Penny. “There’s only one road. I need to drive until the owl sign. Help me by keeping your eyes peeled.” Her voice was sharp. Monica had never seen that side of Penny, given she’d only known her for two days. But two days in a hostel felt like a lifetime.
   Penny turned a long bend her headlights flashing onto a large grey owl sign. They’ve arrived. The four exited the car, walking onto the crunchy gravel. A moment later, another car turned onto the road. Their guides excited, both men were in their late thirties and dressed in beige cargo shorts and a matching cargo vest.
   “¿Hablas Español?” the leaner one asked.
   “Si,” answered Raphael. Monica, Penny and Simon all shook their heads.
   “Very well,” he said in English, with his Spanish accent.
   He handed them each a plastic flashlight. “My name is Burt,” His smile reached his ears. “My friend is Marcel, he doesn’t know English very well.” Marcel waved to everyone.
   Here we go, thought Monica, What could possibly go wrong following older local men into the woods?
   The four of them followed the guides through windy trails far into the lush rainforest. The only light was from their shitty flashlights and the night sky. Marcel walked ahead, scoping for the animals, as Burt and the crew followed behind, making stops to explain what they saw.
   “See in that hole?” asked Burt, pointing to a hole at the base of a tree.
   “No…” said Penny, leaning closer.
   “A Tarantula,” answered Burt proudly. Penny jumped back as the female tarantula stuck her legs out of her home. She was orange and black and furry.
   “God,” breathed out Penny, stepping away as the rest of them leaned in for a better look.
   “Magnifique,” said Simon.
   “Oui, oui,” Monica agreed.
   It was amazing how the animals came alive at night. There was something around every corner, you just needed to know where to look. They continued to walk, spotting frogs and moths that evolved so their wings could look like snakes. Eventually, they approached a clearing, where starlit sky expanded before them.
   The guides flashed their flashlight beams across the clearing, checking the trees. The animals, if they were there, their eyes would flash back. But Monica didn’t really care about the animals across the path. She just wanted to look at the stars overhead. Coming from a city, sometimes she forgot stars even existed. Once the lights were off, the sky ahead glowed.. Everyone was speechless, even Penny. As the group examined a star closely, a bright shooting star crossed the horizon.
   “Oh my god,” said Monica.
   “Make a wish,” said Penny. “That must’ve been the brightest shooting star I’ve ever seen.”
   “Me too,” said Monica.
   The group continued to watch the stars until a crunching of leaves startled Monica. She turned, flashing her lamp in the woods. She couldn’t see anything.
   “Do you have any questions?” asked Burt, ignoring the sound.
   “There’s something in the woods,” said Monica, her heart pounding. Burt ignored her.
   “I can answer lots of things, please ask,” he emphasized, turning to the other group members.
   “Something is definitely in the woods,” Monica repeated louder. Finally, Burt shined his much brighter flashlight. An Armadillo rustled through the leaves! “And here I thought we were about to be attacked.”
   Burt and Marcelle chuckled. As they continued down the trail, Marcelle flashed his light upwards, looking for sloths. Sloths were what most tourists wanted to see. This group was no different.
   They continued up the path, bumping into someone. A young man stood in the dark woods, analyzing the tree with a faint flashlight.
   “Hola, Zeke ¿Qué estás haciendo aquí?” asked Marcelle.
   “Quería ver cómo estaba,” the man answered, waving to the group. “My name is Zeke,” he said.
   As Monica approached, it struck her how handsome Zeke was. He must’ve been around her age, with dirty blonde hair, deep tanned skin and dark brown eyes. They all gathered near to see. A large sloth on the low tree branch. He lay perfectly still.
   “This is Juan,” said Zeke. “I rescued him.”
   Zeke spoke proudly of his sloth. The group took pictures admiring the sloth, but all Monica could do was admire Zeke. He wore a green t-shirt and beige cargo shorts. He looked like he jumped out of a wilderness survival movie.
   “So, you, comment dit-on, uhhh, placed it here,” said Simon, pointing to the injured sloth.
   “A plant,” snapped Penny. “You planted this. It’s not real.” The guides shuffled, speaking to each other in Spanish. Raphael jumped in the conversation. The four of them went back and forth. Monica wished she could join, she felt awkward visiting countries and not knowing the language.
   “Knowing one animals location doesn’t make it a plant,” said Monica, desperate to help. “This was a rescue. It’s better that they know where this poor sloth is resting, anyway.” Simon nodded, Penny rolled her eyes.
   “What’s next?” asked Penny.
   “This way,” said Burt, leading us further down the path.
   Zeke reached out to Monica, brushing against her arm. She turned, startled, worried it might have been one of the many animals they encountered on the walk.
   “Thank you,” he said, smiling. Even in darkness, Zeke was breathtaking. His smile made her smile.
   “I didn’t do anything,” she answered. “You’re the one saving lives.” She gave Zeke a short smile before returning to catch up with her group. She didn’t want to be left alone in the dark woods. But maybe being left alone with Zeke wouldn’t have been that bad.

—

   Monica woke early the next morning to the distant howls of the Monkeys. That would never get old, she thought. She threw on a sweater walking to the lobby. She was eager to learn when her car would arrive, it was time for a new adventure. She couldn’t wait to begin her internship in the Monteverde cloud forest. A summer of science awaited her. When Monica got to the front desk, it was empty, she rang the bell and took seat while she waited. The clouds were thick overhead, only the bottom of the volcano was visible today, it would be a rainy day.
   After awhile no one came to the front desk. Where the hell was Wilbur? She thought. Simon came trudging down the forest path, ready for his day. His smile grew as he spotted Monica.
   “You’re still here,” he said.
   “Don’t sound so happy, Wilbur said I’d have a car by today. But,” she pointed to the dirt road, “No car and no Wilbur.”
   “Looks like you're stuck here,” said Simon. “Today, we are doing a chocolate and coffee tour.” He shoved a Bon Bueno pamphlet in her hands. “It’ll be great, and the best part is it’s only a 10-minute walk on the other side of town.”
   “Simon, don’t you think a tour centered around Chocolate and Coffee farming located on the edge of a tourist town might be, I don’t know, bad?” said Monica. Simon paused for a moment, thinking it over.
   “I suppose, but we both have nothing better to do. So, Allons-y,” said Simon. Standing up and reaching for Monica. He was right. What was the alternative? Sit around and wait for Wilbur all day?

—

   Bon Bueno, chocolate and coffee tours were at the very edge of town. You could faintly make out the nearest souvenir shop before entering the tropical wilderness of Costa Rica’s center.
   Simon and Monica sat on the benches in the Bon Bueno lobby waiting for their tour guide. They sat for a while before Simon nudged Monica, “boyzino, five o’clock,” he said. Monica looked up from her book.
   “I have no idea what boyzino means,” she said, “is it French?” He giggled his no before nodding toward their tour guide. He was cute, he wore a dark green t-shirt and khaki pants, and he was gorgeous. Monica’s heart raced, it was him.
   “Hola chicos,” said Zeke, to the group. “If you have pink bracelets, you’re with me.” He smiled before ushering everyone out of the lobby and into the tour.
   Monica grabbed Simon’s arm, falling to the back of the group.
   “The guy,” said Monica. “From yesterday.”
   Simon nodded, smiling, “Isn’t it wonderful?” he said, pushing his way toward the front to be closer to Zeke.
   The group followed Zeke down a concrete path. He moved aside, pointing toward a single Arabica tree.
   “Where is the plantation?” asked Monica. Simon looked around. There was nothing near them. It was a concrete path, sun-protected by a green tarp roof. No coffee farms, nor chocolate farms to be found. Simon shrugged in response.
   “So, plant seeds travel by animals,” said Zeke. He explained the movement of seeds through animal feces. Monica couldn’t help but zone out and focus on more important things, like his looks. He was so cute she almost couldn’t believe it. She let out a low giggle.
   “What is so funny?” Zeke asked, halting the tour, the entire group turned to look at her. A pit fell into her stomach. This couldn’t be real, she thought.
   “Oh, nothing,” she coughed up, before Zeke nodded, returning to his tour. Her face flushed red. Simon held back his laughter.
   They followed Zeke around to various large infographics, where he explained plant cycles, harvesting plans and production cycles. All through pointing at tiny images on a billboard.
   “Simon,” whispered Monica, “how much research did you do before this tour?”
   “None,” he said. “I trusted Wilbur.” Monica shook her head. First mistake: trusting Wilbur.
   Finally, the group came to their first real activity. Making chocolate, well, sort of. Zeke took a large chunk of chocolate and began shaving it into shreds so he could distribute it to multiple plates. Each person got a plate of shredded chocolate and toppings to mix in, salt, cinnamon, and powdered milk, that you pressed in with your hands. Simon took a step back, looking at his lump of black chocolate.
   “C’est immangeable,” said Simon before going off to wash his hands. Monica didn’t need to be fluent in French to understand. The chocolate was questionable. She finished pressing in her ingredients before going to wash the chocolate off her own hands. She doubted the things she had mixed were any good. She jumped at the sound of Zeke’s voice.
   “It’s nice to see you again,” he said, smiling.
   “Yeah, crazy coincidence,” she replied.
   “Not too crazy,” he said, “It’s a very small town. Many of us do lots of jobs.”
   “Hard workers,” said Monica, returning his smile. “How is your sloth?”
   “He’s great… Thank you for asking… I wanted to ask you a question. “Is Simon your?” asked Zeke.
   “My what?” asked Monica. “Oh my, boyfriend?” She laughed, shaking her head. “I met him less than a week ago,” she answered.
   “Do you have a boyfriend?” asked Zeke.
   “Nope,” she said, shaking her head.
   “Why not?” he asked. Monica felt embarrassed. Normally, she’d never explain herself to a guy she just met.
   “I don’t have time for someone who’s not legit,” said Monica. Zeke paused for a moment, surprised by her answer.
   “And for someone who is legit?” he asked.
   “I have all the time in the world,” she answered.

—

   That afternoon, Monica returned to the front desk. But this time, she was far from the only person there. It was packed, all the lobby tables were full, and people crowded around the counter.
   “What’s going on?” asked Monica. She approached the front desk to find a small lady sitting behind it. She spoke in fast Spanish, Monica couldn’t understand. Her eyes darted to the TV behind the lady, flashing the breaking news:

BREAKING NEWS: LANDSLIDE CLOSES LAKE ARENAL HIGHWAY

   Monica’s heart sank. Her driver… could he have been on the road at the time of the natural disaster? Or was he simply trapped on the other side? She grabbed the counter to steady herself. The news showed civilians on the scene, helping clear the path to restore the road and help those who were stuck. The reporter began interviewing one of the firefighters on the scene. Monica’s jaw dropped. It was Wilbur, but his real name was Santiago, and he was a volunteer firefighter. They conducted the interview in Spanish, but it didn’t take an expert to know that it wasn’t good. Wilbur’s face said it all. Landslides were a known risk in the rainy season, which is why so many people avoided this region this time of year. It wasn’t worth the risk.
   Monica spotted Simon at one of the tables and took a seat next to him. They were in a heated conversation.
   “They don’t know how long the road will be open again,” said Penny. “What if I miss my flight home?” Her voice rose with panic.
   “There are other roads,” said Simon.
   “That’s the most direct to Liberia,” she pressed.
   “Guys, c’mon, let’s focus on what really matters?” said Monica, jumping in. “People are hurt. Who cares that we get more vacation? San Jose isn’t that far from here. There are options.” Silence fell over the group. “I wonder if they want volunteers,” Monica continued.
   “Probably, but Spanish-speaking ones,” said Penny.
   “What does language have to do with help?” said Monica. Although she had a feeling Penny was right. She wouldn’t even have a way to get to the scene to help, and she had no knowledge of landslides. They all sat in silence, feeling defeated. The grey sky dropped light rain on them, the sound softly hitting the lush rainforest trees. Even in the worst times, the land here brought peace.
   “Beers,” asked Raphael. The group nodded silently.

—

   That night in attempt to relax, the four decided to take the short walk through the jungle to the hot springs. They waited for nightfall before walking through the light rain down the damp, rainforest path. Aside from the rain, for once, the forest was quiet, no chirping birds nor any hum from the insects.
   The hot springs looked completely different in the dark. They stripped down at the side of the water, walking slowly to an empty pool. Some locals were further down the water, but they didn’t pay them any mind.
   “Look,” said Raphael as he pulled out a few candles, “I took them from Wilbur. It’ll give us light.”
   “So smart,” said Penny. She helped Raphael to place them on the rocks surrounding the pools, lighting them slowly. The candles brought a warm hue. It was perfect. The four settled in, and Simon passed Imperial Cans around.
   “Now this,” said Simon, “this is nice.” Everyone murmured their agreement. The water was lukewarm, but it felt wonderful compared to the cool, rainy rainforest air.
   Monica settled in deep until the water was almost touching her nose. She felt herself relax for the first time since hearing the horrible news. She took a sip of a cold imperial when a familiar voice startled her.
   “Ah, the tourists have found our spot,” said Zeke to his friend. Monica shot out of the water, locking eyes with him.
   He grinned, “It’s you,” he said.
   “Yes, me, Monica,” she said back. Zeke was a part of the local group who were sitting a few pools away. It was too hard to recognize anyone before in the dark. But now, with the candlelight, she could make out his features.
   “Are you on your way out?” she asked. He nodded.
   “But we don’t have to be,” he suggested. “Can my friends and I join you?”
   “Sure!” said Penny. Zeke and his three friends took a seat in the pool.
   One of the girls spoke slowly, “I speak little English,” she said. Monica nodded encouragingly. That was more than she knew in Spanish. Raphael took over, speaking Spanish with the locals. It seemed like they bonded quickly. Monica sank back into the water, suddenly self-conscious of their new friends. Zeke shirtless was not on her bucket list, nor was Penny drooling so blatantly over him.
   Monica watched them. Penny asked him about everything: growing up in Costa Rica, growing up in La Fortuna, his knowledge of wildlife, his various jobs, and his opinions on tourism.
   “Penny, aren’t you exhausted of speaking?” snapped Monica. She regretted her words immediately. They were harsh, and she wasn’t sure where they came from.
   “Excuse you,” said Penny, “At least I’m being social, not sulking like a hippo.” Monica gasped. Penny turned back to Zeke, “Will you excuse me? I must relieve myself,” she said before stomping off into the woods.
   Once Penny was out of sight, Zeke floated closer to Monica, smiling. God, thought Monica, did he always look this good, even in a dirty hot spring?
   “I’m surprised you’re still here,” said Zeke. “A lot of time for La Fortuna, most people only stay a couple of nights.”
   “I actually, got stuck here,” said Monica. “I’m supposed to be in Monteverde, I’m going to do research. But, my driver never showed up the other day. So, my time here has been extended.” She paused, unsure what to say. “Not that I’m upset, though, well, yes, I am upset people were hurt in a landslide, of course, I just mean I’m not upset to be stuck somewhere so beautiful. It’s wonderful here.” She smiled, cursing herself for rambling on.
   “My uncle is a turismo taxi driver. He’s been stuck in the disaster since it began,” said Zeke.
   “Oh, Zeke… I’m so sorry,” said Monica, looking away. How could she face him after something so horrible, while she was just focused on continuing her vacation?
   “I’m headed to Monteverde tomorrow, you could come with me,” said Zeke.
   “That, that would be amazing. Thank you, why are you going?”
   “Research,” he said. At first Monica thought, he was mocking her. “The top sloth scientists are there. I want to learn more, become more.”
   Monica nodded, she understood the need for more. A similar feeling, what brought her here in the first place.
   “Is it bad to think that it’s okay. That these tragedies are okay since they brought me you,” he replied. Monica turned to him, his eyes softened at the sight of hers. He lifted her chin with his index finger. “Is this, okay?” he asked. Monica nodded before Zeke pressed his lips softly against hers.

The End