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I smelled the smoke as soon as I stepped off the elevator. The cleaning woman was pushing her cart down the hall. When she saw which room was mine, she gave me a knowing look.
I stuck my keycard in the door and pushed it open. Amanda was sitting by the window. In one hand, she had a cigarette. In the other, an empty soda can, which she’d rigged up to work as a pipe. She put the cigarette in the ashtray and held her lighter to the part of the can where the bud went, taking a deep toke.
“What the hell is this?” I said.
The hotel had bolted the screen into the window frame. Amanda tore it out. No easy feat, judging from how banged up it was.
“I’ll fix it later.” She blew a cloud of smoke in my direction.
I snatched the cigarette from between her lips and flicked it out the window. I got the no-smoking sign off the table and placed it in her lap.
“Why do you always have to be such a boy scout?” She tossed the sign out the window.
“Because I’m the one who’s going to have to pay the cleaning fee.” I looked out over the parking lot. The sign landed on someone’s windshield.
“No one’s going to pay any fee.” She got up and walked over to the dresser.
I laid the screen on the floor and, using my sneaker like a hammer, straightened it the best I could. I tried to snap it back in the window. Every time I got one corner in, the other popped out.
Amanda laid her swimsuit on the bed. Next to it, she had a baby blue linen sundress. She ran her hands along the seam, flattening the wrinkles. She stripped down to her bra and underwear.
“Will you make me a drink?” She sat at the foot of the bed.
“There’s a bar at the beach.”
“But I want one now.” She arched her back, pushing her breasts forward.
“It’s not even 9:00 AM.” I slid a hand under her bra.
“I should take a shower.”
“What’s the rush?” I kissed her neck.
“I just woke up. I’m still tired.” She got up off the bed and walked over to her purse. She pulled out a bottle of nasal spray, stuck it up her nose and gave it three pumps.
“You promised me you’d stop with that shit.”
“I can’t stop now.” She gave each nostril another hit. “I’m addicted.”
I watched her unclasp her bra and step out of her underwear. Then she went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
While she showered, I went through her purse. I found a prescription pill bottle, missing its label. I poured the pills into my hand and held them under the lamp. They were the color of piss. Each with the dosage etched into the front. I counted eight pills then put them back in her purse.
*
At the beach, a cabana boy greeted us with two sweaty glasses of fruit juice. “Happy Fourth of July,” he said, escorting us down to the lounge chairs. “My name is Manuel.” He pointed to his badge. “But you can call me Manny.” He unfolded two towels and laid them on the chairs.
Amanda took a seat while I gave Manny a few dollars.
“Thank you, sir. If you need anything else, just flag me down.” He started walking away.
“Actually,” Amanda stopped him, “I’ll take a vodka cranberry.”
“Yes, of course, ma’am.” He took his cell phone out of his pocket and checked the time. “The bar should be opening shortly.”
I slipped him another couple of singles.
“I think I’ll check out the fitness center.” I sat on the lounge chair, exchanging my flip-flops for a pair of running shoes.
“That’s ridiculous.” Amanda lit a cigarette.
“Thirty minutes on a treadmill, tops.”
“If that’s your idea of a vacation, have fun.” She reclined her chair till it was nearly flat. Then closed her eyes.
On my way to the fitness center I passed Manny, carrying a tray with a single drink on it.
“Good luck.” I smiled.
“Excuse me, sir?” he said, nervously.
*
In her sleep, Amanda’s bikini slid down, exposing one of her breasts.
“Amanda.” I shook her by the shoulders. She stirred but didn’t open her eyes.
I pulled her top up and got the sunblock out of the beach bag. She’d been out less than an hour and, already, her skin had turned pink. I sprayed her down, starting at her feet and moving up towards her chest. Then I took my shirt off and sprayed myself. It was like ice. When it touched my stomach, I let out a small cry. I couldn’t figure how Amanda had slept through it.
Her purse was lying under her chair. I opened it and found the prescription bottle. I counted the pills. Three had gone missing. On the small table between the chairs, there were two cocktail glasses, each empty except for a pool of melting ice.
I put my shirt on and walked back to the locker room. I found an empty changing room. I sat on the bench, turned the lock, and set the alarm on my phone to go off in twenty minutes.
I laid my hands, palms up, on my knees, closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth. The music coming from the pool was loud. But, focused on my breathing, I was able to block it out.
The alarm brought me back to the changing room. I opened my eyes, took one final breath and, slowly, let it out.
Over the loudspeaker, I heard the D.J. going over rules for the egg toss. Each child was given an egg to toss back and forth with either their mother or father. At first, they stood real close. But after each throw, they had to take a step apart. If the egg broke, they were disqualified. The game would go until there was only one team standing.
“Contestants, pick your partners and make your way to the D.J. booth.”
I found a spot at the bar. The bartender set an American flag cocktail napkin down in front of me. “Today we’re having a special. All rum drinks, half off.”
“I’ll take a piña colada, please.” The wall behind the bar was cutout, allowing for a view of the kitchen. I spotted half a dozen burgers, sizzling on the grill. “And a cheeseburger,” I said.
He entered my order into the computer, blended my drink and poured it into a plastic mug with the hotel’s logo printed on the side. Before he gave it to me, he added a wedge of fresh pineapple.
“What brings you to St. Augustine?”
“Just came up for the holiday.” I dunked the pineapple in the frozen drink and took a bite.
“No better place to celebrate the Fourth. You got a little one in the egg toss?”
“I’m here with my fiancée. No kids.”
“Smart man, not having kids. See that one over there?” He gestured towards a redheaded girl. She was maybe ten years old, tossing an egg to her father. He leaned in close and, in a near whisper, said, “My girlfriend waits tables at the hotel. Last night, that little girl threw a bowl of spaghetti and meatballs at her. She had to work the dinner rush covered in red sauce.” He wiped his face with a wet cloth then stuck it in the back of his apron. “Worst part, her father didn’t do a damn thing about it.”
“What a little bitch.” From across the pool, I shot her a look.
My food appeared in the window. The bartender set it in front of me. From under the bar, he got a bottle of ketchup and a set of silverware wrapped in a cloth napkin. “Enjoy your lunch,” he said, walking away.
While I ate, I watched the redheaded girl. She threw her egg, overhand, at her father’s forehead. The yolk ran down his neck and under his shirt. She pointed and laughed.
“We have our first broken egg,” the D.J. announced. He handed her a handful of candy, her consolation prize. “Thank you for playing.” He put his arm around her shoulders and tried to escort her out of the game.
“Don’t touch me,” she yelled, slapping his hand away. She set herself down on the deck and let out a scream.
Her old man tried to pick her up. But she kicked her legs and swung her fists, making it impossible for him to get a hold on her. He got down on his hands and knees, egg all over his face and, with everyone watching, begged his girl to behave.
I ordered another piña colada and took it, and the rest of my burger, back to the lounge.
*
Amanda was smoking a cigarette. In the sand between her bare feet, there was a small mound of butts.
“Where the hell is the waiter?” She stood up, craning her neck.
“I’m sure he’ll be around soon.” I held my plate out to her. She took a fry. Then pushed it away.
“I’ve been trying to order a drink for the last half hour.” She snatched my piña colada out of my hand and took a sip. “How do you drink these nasty things?” She set it down on the table.
“You should eat something.”
“I’m not hungry.” She stubbed her cigarette out in the sand and lit another. “There he is.” She waved her hands above her head.
Manny’s white polo was stained in sweat. “Sorry, ma’am,” he said, out of breath. “We’re short-staffed today.”
“I’ve been trying to order a drink for over thirty minutes.” She spoke without looking at him.
“I apologize. Another vodka cranberry?”
“Better make it a double. Who knows how long it’ll take me to flag you down again.”
“For you, sir?”
“I’m fine for now.” I reached into my pocket and handed him a five-dollar bill.
“Thank you, sir. Your drink will be right up,” he said to Amanda as he backed away.
“Did you just slip him five bucks?” Amanda said. “Whose side are you on?”
“He’s working hard.”
“Getting people drinks is not brain surgery.”
“Are you sure you don’t want the rest of this burger? It’s good.”
She got her nasal spray out of her bag.
“You should go in the ocean,” I said. “The salt water would be great for your sinuses.”
“I’m fine right here.” She bumped a couple hits of spray up each nostril.
“I have to go cool down.” I stood up, took my shirt off, and walked into the water.
*
“Have you decided if you want to go to the roof or should we walk down to the Old Spanish Fort?” I spoke through the bathroom door. “We’ll get a better view of the fireworks from up on the roof. But the Fort is beautiful, especially at night.” I waited but got no answer. “Amanda, did you hear me?”
I dried my hair then wrapped a towel around my waist. I walked out of the bathroom and, in the hallway, tripped over Amanda’s sandals.
“Jesus, Amanda.” I kicked the sandals into the closet. “Why is it so dark in here?” She was lying in bed. “You’ve been sleeping all day. You can’t still be tired.”
I turned the lamp on. The prescription bottle was lying on the floor beside the bed. There were no pills left. “Amanda, are you awake?” I held my fingers to her neck, feeling for a pulse.
She opened her heavy eyes. “Why are you yelling?” Her speech was slurred.
“Get up. It’s your turn to shower.” I tried to pull her up by her arms. She was deadweight. “Come on, quit playing. We’ll miss the fireworks.”
“Maybe we should stay in?” The right side of her face looked paralyzed.
“It’s the Fourth of July. We have to go out and celebrate.”
She grabbed me from the back of my head and pulled me towards her. She kissed me on the lips. Then bit my neck. I let the towel fall to the floor and climbed into bed. She ran her fingernails up my back. I pulled her shorts off.
All at once, she stopped moving. Then she began to snore.
“Amanda?” Lightly, I slapped her cheek. When she didn’t respond, I rolled off of her.
I got out of bed, put on a pair of boxer shorts, and sat by the window. The coke can, which Amanda had turned into a pipe, was on the sill where she’d left it. The skunk smell of burnt weed was strong. I double wrapped it in two plastic bags and put it in the wastebasket.
I had no view of the fireworks. But the sound shook the room. I put my hand on the window and felt the rattle that came after each explosion. For the grand finale, I thought the window would shatter. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what it looked like.
When it came to an end, I heard an encore of car alarms. Also, I heard Amanda. She hadn’t stopped snoring.
The smoke from the fireworks drifted into the room. I closed the window. The screen was still lying on the floor. I grabbed a dress shoes from the closet. It had a heavy wooden sole. I held it over my shoulder like a hammer. The way the aluminum frame was bent, I knew there was no fixing it. But I had to try.