Wet Encounters Ch. 13

I had only been pumping for about fifteen minutes when I heard Juanita banging on the floor above my head. Whether that meant that the water was overflowing or that the crocodile has decided to take to the water, I didn't know or care. I bolted for the steps as quickly as my legs could push me through the still fast-flowing water. I didn't waste a single second getting myself back inside the warm kitchen and into Juanita's loving arms.

Our lips locked for a good five minutes before Juanita pulled away from me.

"What have I told you about kissing me when you are wearing that shirt?" she asked. "It's like kissing a porcupine. It's full of splinters. There will be no more kissing - or anything else, for that matter - until you are properly undressed."

It took me all of thirty seconds to comply with her instruction and then she pulled me to her and wrapped her arms around me. I was shivering - whether from being wet or from being scared, I had no idea; it was probably a combination of both - but ten minutes of having Juanita's warm body pressed up against my front and heat being radiated from the stove behind me soon had me back to normal.

"Tell me that the banging on the floor was to let me know that the tank was full," I said with my chin resting on the top of Juanita's head, "and not because the croc had decided to go looking for breakfast. Either way, I'm not going down there again until the water levels go down enough that I can see what's around me."

"No," she said. "He's still there on the verandah. I banged on the floor with the end of the broomstick to tell you that the tank was beginning to overflow."

"Thank God for that," I said. "So, it looks like we're using just over half a tank - say about sixty gallons - a day; even when flushing the toilet. That's not too bad. That means I probably won't have to pump again before we go. Even if the water levels drop enough that we're high and dry before nightfall, there is no way I'm going to attempt to cross that creek in the dark.

"That being the case, there's no need for us to rush about getting packed up before checkout time.

"Speaking of checkout time," I continued, "what's for breakfast?"

"What do you mean, 'What's for breakfast'?" Juanita responded. "I thought we'd agreed that you were cooking breakfast. And that you were going to bring me my breakfast in bed."

"Okay, your Royal Highness," I said. "I'll cook breakfast. But it won't be breakfast at this hour; it's almost ten-thirty. And it won't be in bed.

"But before I start on our late breakfast-cum-early lunch, I'm going to have a cup of coffee and indulge in one of James' hand-rolled smokes. I think I deserve both."

"Since you've been so gracious about the breakfast business," Juanita said, "I think I might join you in both. You roll the cigarettes while I make the coffee."

While Juanita made our coffee, I strolled into the living room where we'd left the makings on the coffee table. By the time I'd rolled our cigarettes, she'd brought the coffee through and placed the cups on the small table. Handing her one of the tobacco-filled cylinders, I bent forward and lit it for her before lighting my own. I then picked up my coffee and strolled over to the window to check on our new lodger. He wasn't there.

"When did you last check on our visitor?" I asked.

"Just before the water started overflowing," Juanita answered, standing and walking over towards me. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," I answered. "Perhaps your banging on the floor disturbed him."

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, dropping her coffee cup onto the floor. "I promise you, Matthew, he was there when I last looked." She burst into tears and threw herself into my chest. "I promise you. He was there."

"I believe you," I said consolingly. And I did believe her. Crocs are funny creatures. They come and go wherever and whenever they please. The fact that Juanita had seen him immediately before the water had overflowed from the overhead tank meant that he hadn't left to hunt me out. Perhaps I was right in assuming that Juanita's banging on the floor was all it needed to tell him that he wasn't welcome here. Or maybe he simply decided that, with the change in the weather, it was time to move on.

"It's all right, my darling. There's nothing to fret about. He was there when you last looked. And now he's gone. As I said, he probably didn't like the other tenants banging about and making so much noise. Of course, he might have gone looking for that jaguar he keeps hearing screaming and roaring in the jungle.

"Now, how about you go and sit down and I'll start getting our brunch ready." I guided her to one of the lounge chairs and rolled another smoke for her. Leaving her with my coffee - we both had it black without sugar - before making my way to the kitchen to prepare our meal. I quickly made myself another coffee before preparing the day's Chef's Special: thick-cut bacon and scrambled eggs served on a bed of toast.

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