Laureen Pink

Laureen Pink

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COVER FEATURE The Cruise Alix Ohlin 'The Cruise/' like much of Oh Iiriswork, combines humor and sadness to comment on the vulnerability of both thepsyche and the earth. Because her aunt was both wealthy and caring, because people seemed to believe thatdivorce required a period ofmourn ing accompanied and defined by homemade ritual, because Laureen (the aunt) was also kind of bossy and wouldn't take no for an answer, because she (Reena) had been named for Lau reen and theywere therefore considered by the family and, eventually, themselves, to be spe cially affiliated, because the same people who spoke ofpost-divorce rituals also said that travel broadened themind, because theworld's wild creatures were disappearing and itwas therefore imperative to see them before itwas too late, two women went on a cruise to the Galapagos. \"This is going to cheer you up,\" Laureen said as they boarded the flight to Quito. She had at one time been a highly paid executive secretary who wore black cashmere turtlenecks and tasteful gold jewelry. Now, in retirement, she'd ditched all sobriety, in clothes and oth erwise. She was wearing fuchsia pants and a pink striped blouse and had already downed two alcoholic smoothies at the airport bar. She squeezed Reena's hand, and her breath smelled of Bacardi Breeze. Also chips. Reena's eyes watered, not from the squeeze or thebreath.How longhad itbeen since anyone held her hand She was touched by Laureen. She was touched by everything these days, not hardened from the divorce but scraped raw by it. This year's holiday cards, even the generic ones from thebank and thedentist, had allmade her eyes water. It's so nice people care, she'd find herself blubbering out loud, tono one, as she put the cards on the otherwise bare mantle of her new apartment. The cruise hadn't been her idea, but she was grateful for it. Itwas something to do, twoweeks of something todo every day and every night, thehours portioned intoparticulars. Two weeks inwhich shewould never have tobe by herself for more than a few minutes, never have to be alone with those terrible scurrying creatures, her thoughts. As they settled in first-class, Laureen ordered more drinks. She had been widowed young and raised her son, Jasper, herself. She was briskly competent and always cheerful and independent and brave and Reena did not want tobe her, she did not ever want to have Laureen's life. But for now they were cruising, and she was grateful. The plane lifted,heavily, with evident effortand a lot of noise. She felt better already. The first part of the trip was a blur: two days in Quito, heat, dehydration, bland hotel food, a dizzying trip up to the Virgen del Panecillo. Sometime after thirtyshe'd gone from mediocre traveler to complete wimp. Laureen was the one who kept afterher, cheerleading her on through thedays. Itwas infantilizing and Reena liked it. She would have liked to have been tucked nto bed and read a story at night. She wouldn't: bave turned down a kiss on the forehead. Her own mother would never do such a thing,would never have takenher on a trip toget hermind off her troubles, in facthad told her that thedivorce was her fault (which belief Reena shared), and Laureen's curt dismissal of this opinionall she'd said, in front of Reena, was \"your mo:her is very narrow-minded\"typified her general auntly excellence. For her part, Laureen seemed most intenton getting Reena drunk, which was a big reason why the firsttwo days passed ina blur. A brief flirtation with stomach flu or food 50 I World Literature Today poisoning, on the day they boarded the cruise ship, came as a relief, giving her some respite from rum. When she emerged, on the second morning of the cruise, she found that the social dynamics of the shipwere already established. In fact,she had been abandoned: Laureen had a boyfriend. His name was Benjamin Moore, like the paint. He was a sixty-year-old civil engineer from Toronto, sensibly dressed inpressed Dockers and a light blue shirt.The equatorial sun had already... 59ce067264

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