"You guys like the smell of salt air too?"
"I do, but Mary is from Kansas City, so this is new to her."
"Hi Mary. I'm Peter. And you're —" looking at the first girl.
"Linda. I'm from Chicago."
The student cruise around the world was sailing by the Statue of Liberty. Less than an hour into the four-month trip, I was trolling for a girl. The "Welcome Aboard" party had begun, but that didn't attract the kind of girl I liked. A girl who would hold her face into the wind at the bow of a ship was my kind of girl.
I asked them why they were on this voyage, their interests in school, where they were from, the stuff of the get-to-know-you first conversation. Mary lost interest once the city lights faded and excused herself to go downstairs to the party.
Linda was letting the wind blow her medium-length black hair straight back. We sat on the deck and inhaled the smell. She tilted her chin up, flared her nostrils, and closed her eyes.
"I love this! We spend our summer vacation sometimes on Lake Ontario, sailing a small boat that a friend of my father has at his summer house. It's heaven. I'm so glad to be able to make this trip. We're going to be on almost every ocean. I want to come home knowing the difference in how they smell."
After a while we walked up to the top deck, stopping at the bridge. The harbormaster was just departing, having taken us on an unusual arc out of the harbor. We thanked him for going so close to the Statue of Liberty. The captain gave us a quick tour of the instruments and introduced us to several of the senior officers.
It was cool when we left the bridge, and the decks, while not deserted, were not crowded. Neither Linda nor I had any use for the party, so we looked around for some place to sit quietly. The only place we found was the library, where the door was unlocked but no one was inside. We couldn't find the light switch so we sat at the reading table, with moonlight streaming through the deck windows.
I told Linda about my family, working-class carpenters and truck drivers in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. My father was a reader, though, and wanted his children to go to college. As the oldest of three, I was expected to set an example. Somehow Dad could pay my way to Dartmouth and I went to Yale to get my Masters. I really didn't want to go back to Harrisburg, and happily enough my parents' health and finances were solid, so I wasn't needed.
"This is my first teaching job out of grad school. The pay isn't great, but I got free room and board.
"And," I smiled, looking straight at her, "I got to meet beautiful girls."
"I'm a Christian. My father's a Baptist minister," she said. "My mom died four years ago and I've had to take care of daddy and my two brothers. I graduated from high school and got a good scholarship to Foursquare Christian College, but even with the scholarship I couldn't afford to live in the dorms. Now that my brothers are in high school, daddy said I could make this trip as my junior year. The college has a discount for children of pastors and Foursquare helped out. It's the only way I could be here."
Even with her hands folded on the table in front of her as she spoke, Linda radiated earnestness and resolve.
"This program does cost an awful lot of money," I said. "We're both lucky to have this chance."
I laid my hand on top of her hands and looked into her eyes. She leaned back in her chair and sighed. I uncoupled her top hand from the other, raised it to my lips, and kissed it.
I pulled my chair toward her and kissed her. She kissed me back, and I felt her tongue. I brought both my hands under her arms and pulled her toward me. Her hands went to my face and stroked my beard, nearly knocking my glasses off.
We broke off and looked at each other.
"Linda, we should go somewhere more private. Will you come with me?"
"Where?"
"My cabin. I have a single."
My cabin was halfway down a dead-end line of cabins in the men's section. One of my responsibilities as a residence assistant was to articulate and enforce the rules, one of which was no girls in the cabins. I guided Linda down the hall, and luckily we ran into none of the students. I opened my door and waved Linda inside.
I hadn't even unpacked my two suitcases, which lay open on one bunk. The other bunk had been made up by the ship's staff. There was a sink, a built-in dresser, and a chair. The only lighting was a bare bulb recessed into the ceiling.
I closed the door and flipped the lock.
"I hate grit on the floor," I said. "That's why I have this newspaper here, so we can take our shoes off." I slipped my sneakers off and put them on the newspaper. Linda did the same.
"Is this different from your cabin?"
"Nope, same as mine, except I have a roommate and we have two dressers, but only the one chair."
"Sit, please," I said, motioning to the chair. I sat on the edge of the bunk.
"That was very nice, Linda. I don't usually kiss on the first date."
Linda snorted. "You're missing a lot then." She sighed, deeply. Then she pulled the chair closer and fixed me with the most direct look.
"I want to make a change in my life, Peter. You can help me, I know you can. Will you?"
Startled, I parried. "We don't even know each other very well yet."
"Take a chance, Peter."
"I'm startled, Linda. Overwhelmed. No one's ever asked me to do this, whatever you want." The fog of the unexpected coated my tongue. The obliqueness of truth seemed a good option.
"This job is the best chance I have to start my teaching career. I have nothing but my degree and the check that comes from this job. I have no prospects in the academic market if I blow this opportunity."
We were silent.
"Linda, I love teaching. Anyone who asks me to help her learn has me in the palm of her hand. Can you accept being one of my students, but not my only one?"
Her eyes never left my face. Her jaw was set. "If you can do the same, yes. I want to take charge of my life, make all the decisions, take what I want whenever it present itself, with no commitment to anyone but me."
We'd struck a bargain, so I changed the subject. "Linda, you kiss like a champ. You use your tongue to get right to the point."
"I learned that with Professor Thomas, my history teacher. Tom wanted us to be lovers, but I couldn't. He is 25 years older, married, and has two children the ages of my brothers. He'd have lost his job and been ostracized if they caught us. And I'd have been expelled and disgraced.
"Besides, I'm not an adulterer.
"But oh, how we would play with each other! I am very good," she said, her voice rising in pitch as she stood up.
"And do you want us to be lovers?" I asked, standing up as well.
Without hesitation she said, "Yes."
"Now?"
"As good a time as any."
