Different Circles

“I suppose,” Travis said. “Anyway, it’s a beautiful country. Did you see all the mountains and the rivers and the lakes when we were flying in?”

“I saw them,” Jake said.

“Nice place to visit, but I don’t think I’d want to live here.”

“True,” Jake agreed. “But the drinks are cheap.” He turned to the bartender and got her attention. “Señorita! Dos mas, por favor!”

They drank and munched on spicy peanuts from little bowls on the bar. They did not talk all that much. Once he was done talking about engines and compression ratios and torque, Travis did not have all the much to say. And he did not seem all that interested in hearing any of Jake’s anecdotes from his life as a traveling musician. Jake was just about ready to call it a night—he had a pretty respectable drunk going on by this point—when a familiar looking man entered the bar from the direction of the lobby elevator. It was Sebastian, Eddie Gomez’s pilot.

He walked right up to the bar next to where Jake and Travis were seated, not noticing their presence.

“Sebastian?” Jake said, startling him a bit. He looked over and then his face relaxed when he saw who was addressing him.

“Jake,” he said. “It’s you.”

“It’s me,” Jake confirmed. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“That’s okay,” the pilot said. “I thought it might be los tombos again.”

“Who?” Jake asked. He was unfamiliar with that expression.

“Never mind,” Sebastian said dismissively. “It’s nice to see you again, Jake.”

“Yeah ... it’s been hours, right? What are you doing here?”

“Uh ... well ... I was ... you know ... visiting someone here in the hotel. Thought I would stop in for a quick one before I headed back home.”

Jake suddenly understood what this was all about. “Holy shit,” he said in wonder. “Did you bone Jill?”

Sebastian’s face gave all the answer he needed. “Uh ... well ... the fact of the matter is...”

“You did,” Jake said, laughing. “Jesus fucking Christ. I didn’t know she did that sort of thing.”

“Ohhh ... well ... wow. This is kind of awkward.”

“It is?” Jake asked. “How come?”

“Well ... she is with you.”

“She’s my accountant,” Jake said. “I’ve never boned her. We don’t have that kind of a relationship.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” he said. “I mean, I used to have a crush on her back in fifth grade. Did she tell you we went to school together all the way from kindergarten to high school graduation?”

“Uh ... no, that never came up in conversation,” he said.

“Hmm,” Jake said, pondering. “What made you think that Jill and I were bumping uglies? You know I’m married, right?”

“Well, yes,” he said. “But in our culture, when a man travels with an attractive woman like Jill, it is generally just assumed that the two of them are ... you know?”

“I see,” Jake said, nodding. “You think she’s attractive then?”

“She is very exotic,” he said. “I have never had a Japanese woman before. She intrigued me.”

“She’s third generation American,” Jake pointed out.

“Oh ... I didn’t know that.”

“She doesn’t even speak Japanese.”

“I didn’t know that either.”

“Oh well ... to each their own.” He then gave a glare to the pilot. “But hold on a second. You thought that she and I were getting it on, but you came here and did her anyway?”

“Uh ... well ... again, in our culture, when a woman is not the official partner of a man, she is considered fair game for other men to pursue.”

“Really?” Jake asked.

“Si,” Sebastian said.

“You’re making this shit up as you go along, aren’t you?” Jake asked.

Reluctantly, Sebastian nodded. “Si,” he said.

Jake chuckled and patted the pilot on the shoulder. “How about I buy you that drink?”

“Uh ... sure,” Sebastian said. He ordered a vodka and tonic.

“Tell me something,” Jake said as the bartender prepared his drink for him.

“What’s that?”

“How was she?”

Sebastian smiled. “She was very passionate. It was almost like she had never been thoroughly possessed by a man before.”

“That may very well be the case,” Jake said. “As far as I know, she’s only dated accountants before.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened. “Madres de Dios,” he exclaimed. “That explains a lot.”

American Airlines Flight 791 from Bogota to Dallas-Fort Worth took off on time into the misty rain the next morning. Travis, who had drunk almost eleven guaros on the rocks the night before, was asleep and snoring before they even reached cruising altitude. Jill was sitting next to Jake, in the window seat. She sat, staring out the window at the passing mountains and clouds, a pensive expression on her face.

“Are you doing okay, Jill?” Jake asked her. He was nursing a bit of a headache of his own, and not from the altitude of Bogota.

“Me?” she said softly.

“Yes,” he said. “You’re the only woman named Jill who is currently sitting next to me.”

“Oh ... right,” she said and then gave a little giggle again. “Yes, I’m fine. Perfectly fine.”

“I can see that,” he said. “Did you ... uh ... have a good time in Colombia?”

“You know,” she said, “I really did. A much better time than I was anticipating.”