The Duplicitous Gecko

She was on the second-to-last question on the Made in Heaven dating app when the ad popped up. The thumbnail photo showed aquamarine water and a white sand beach. Her finger hovered, ready to click, no -- tap was what they called it on a phone. She’d never been a techie by any stretch of the imagination, but she got by.

How was it that Google always knew what she was thinking, or what she most wanted, even when she didn’t say it out loud?

No, surely she couldn’t afford a vacation. Not now. Not with all the uncertainty.

She returned her attention to the real purpose of the free app and proceeded to the last multiple-choice question: What is your dream vacation? For her it was easy: sun, sand, water, and waves. Tap. 

Where was the X to close the app? She couldn’t find it. Perhaps it was hidden behind the pop-up for the tropical vacation special, now prominent on the screen.

Enough of this waiting, living in limbo, not traveling, just hanging out in her tiny apartment. Cheri hadn’t been anywhere since last March when the pandemic shutdowns started.

She scrolled through options, looking for the right fit. This one had a fun name: Duplicitous Gecko. How clever! Just her kind of pun. She had owned a chameleon as a child, and she had delighted in introducing new items into the tank to encourage color changing. She needed a little change herself; her tank had been way too monotonous for way too long.

She watched “SPECIAL OFFER” and “COUNTDOWN UNTIL EXPIRATION” blink on the screen. Was she imagining it, or was the blinking speeding up, creating a sense of urgency beyond what even the declining numbers could do on their own?

Accommodation: Two adults

Type: All-inclusive

Special Promotion: Made in Heaven, LLC

Special Requirement: Guests must be vaccinated for Covid 19

Not a problem. In fact, a definite benefit. Another argument against the vacation defeated. 

She’d snagged an early vaccine. She was in the right place at the right time when the freezer at the local clinic had failed and they began looking for available arms. Even on people under 70.

So yes. It was all right. She had to get away. She used the drop-down menu to select “one adult,” and the price immediately halved.

Geez! They must be giving the rooms away. They must make all their money from price-gouging the little extras, like upgrading the cheap-ass tequila and lime Kool-Aid they called margaritas. Dinners must be chips and salsa. Not a deal-breaker. Since the divorce, she’d gotten used to living on the cheap. For a week she could survive on chips, salsa, and cheap margaritas.

Whatever. Her heart beat faster as she considered. The numbers clicked down as the blinking grew more urgent. Warm sun, sandy beach, ocean waves -- how could she resist? Why would she want to? 

Her last vacation was her honeymoon. Honey? Hell no. What was the opposite of that? Vinegarmoon? No, she didn’t think of her ex as vinegar. Just an ass. Ha. That was it. Assmoon. Now that was an entertaining double entendre.  She chortled to herself, admiring her own wit and cleverness. Then she hit “Confirm.” 

A few taps later, she was equipped with a newly discounted red-and-white floral bikini, the same one she’d been eyeing a few months ago before this whole damnpenic happened. She’d forgotten how much she wanted it! A lacy white cover-up completed the look. And she couldn’t resist the suggested red-framed sunglasses. (They were on sale.)

She was actually going to get out of town.

She felt so much better already, and this translated into the way she strode through the airport a few short weeks later, and the way she caught the eye of the Jamie Fraser look-alike she passed on the way to her seat in the back of the plane. They locked eyes for a moment as she passed, and time slowed; her vision tunneled -- until she tripped on the carry-on he had carelessly allowed to extend out into the aisle, and the magic moment ended on an awkward note.

Still, things were looking up. She had her new red-and-white bikini on underneath her street clothes so she could waste no time getting out to the beach upon her arrival. She allowed herself to entertain mild fantasies with the Jamie-look-alike guy as she drowsed through the flight.

An uneventful plane and taxi ride later, she arrived at the gate of the Duplicitous Gecko complex, where she was instructed to wait at one of the pick-up points for the cart shuttle. She met a nice elderly woman, Maude, who laughed a lot and said that her husband Elliott was resting in their room while she went hat shopping! She’d spied a special online and just had to take advantage of the sale. Maude told Cheri what a wonderful place she’d picked for her vacation. So much space! The beach was practically empty!

As they drove over the winding paths surrounded by so much greenery, she believed that she heard the tropical birds sing welcome, “Cheri, Cheri, Cheri-o!” Several of the offshoot paths had yellow caution tape blocking the way. They must do a lot of maintenance to keep these trails looking so clean and lovely!

She was feeling giddy, delivered at reception to be met by a warm breeze and friendly staff who somehow managed to greet her by name just outside the showy row of glass doors. Looking through, she gazed over the infinity pool which led to the turquoise waters of the Sea of Cortez. So utterly soothing. Her shoulders relaxed; she hadn’t even realized how tight she’d been holding herself for so many months now. Surely they would offer massages if she could find a way to afford the extra charge.

Unfortunately, a complication arose.

“Please check again. There must be a mistake. I booked for only one adult,” she repeated to the guest service agent.

He smiled patiently. “Yes, that is correct. One adult. Suite A-213.”

“Then why is there baggage in my room?”

“Because the other guest also booked for just one. Everyone has baggage, you know.” His smile became a smirk.

“That makes no sense!”

He continued smiling serenely and turned his screen so she could view the reservation. He pointed the cursor at the fine print, then, seeing her squint and lean forward, taped on the magnifying glass.

“Rooms will be filled to capacity.” What the hell? Whoever heard of such a thing?

She continued reading. “Due to cuts in staff because of Covid-19, and concern for preserving the environment, the Duplicitous Gecko will be consolidating all reservations to the smallest footprint possible. Thank you for doing your part during these difficult times.”

This was unequivocally unreal. 

“I want an upgrade! I will pay for two spaces!” She raised her voice.

“I’m afraid that’s impossible. We are booked to capacity.”

“But I heard folks in the lobby say there are three buildings sitting empty!”

“We cater to Americans. We follow the American policy of limiting our facility to 25% capacity. Only one of our four towers is open.”

“That’s asinine! This is Mexico! I came here to get away from America, for Chrissake!”

He smiled patiently. He’d been through this before.

“Why don’t you make this more clear on your reservation page? How can you possibly have this as a policy.” Cheri felt herself getting red and puffed up, the red reflecting the state of her blood rushing madly through her veins as her heart rate accelerated. This gecko was about to change colors.

“Well,” he said with a condescending yet fully professional smile, “Most folks don’t travel alone.”

Cheri let out a blood-curdling scream as the words tore into her self-esteem like a silenced bullet, and fake-fiesty Cheri just couldn’t keep up the “I-have-it-together” facade anymore. She opened her mouth, shut it, turned, and walked briskly away. She had to have a moment before she completely lost it, when she became the color of a chameleon who had seriously considered killing her ex. But only in her mind. Inwardly she could be quite daring; outwardly she was the kind of person who actually followed “Stay off the Grass” signs.

But this was just too much right now. She simply would have to put herself in her own time-out. She needed to think things through. To have taken this risk to go on vacation and… and… 

She had no words. She spun on her heels, leaving her luggage for guest services to deal with.

With that much empty beach, surely there’d be a place to hide.

And there was. Behind vacant Tower B, on the edge of the complex grounds, was a tangle of unpruned and uncontrolled butterfly bushes. Exhausted, she grabbed a hotel towel from an abandoned chair, shook it out in the least conspicuous nook she could find, and made herself a little hiding place like she used to do as a child. Warm from the heat, she stripped down to her bikini and crafted a pillow by bundling her traveling clothes.

She was awakened hours later by a swishing sound and looked up groggily to see a pair of hairy white legs descending from blue swim trunks decorated with geckos of many colors: green, red, yellow. And so on. She stopped staring at the trunks when her view was blocked by an upside-down head, framed by curly coppery locks, bent down to peer through the underbrush.

Gawd this was embarrassing.

“Well, hello there,” Mr. Gecko Guy said in a friendly tone. “Imagine meeting you here. Did you have a nice trip?’ he teased, unable to resist the pun.

It was the guy from the plane.

Cheri flushed bikini red and replied, “Oh, hi. I just needed a place to get away.”

Plane Jamie-look-alike Gecko Guy opened his ocean blue eyes wider. They were intense. And they were beautiful.

“That’s why I’m here,” Cheri continued. “To get away. Here -- here, I mean. At this place -- um -- these --.” She sat up, picking some dried leaves out of her disheveled mouse-brown hair.

He rescued her mid-sentence. “I understand completely. In fact, I was thinking the same thing. I was looking for a place to hide away for a while.”

“I…” Cheri was still flushed.

“How about a drink? The hotel gave me two free Cadillac margarita upgrades. Some kind of compensation; I’m not sure what for. The guy who gave me the coupon had such a heavy accent I couldn’t follow him. Something about screaming and yelling and difficult women.”

Cheri poked her head fully out of the bushes, smoothing her hair and tugging on her bikini bottoms before daring to crawl out to stand, dragging her bundle with her. As she stood up, his eyes on her revealed an unspoken compliment.

“I’m Ken.” He stuck out his hand. Cheri felt obliged to take it... and felt not at all uncomfortable as he hoisted her up beside him.

On the oceanside open-air restaurant patio, they were quickly seated facing the ocean and had to wait less than five minutes for the highly anticipated Cadillac margaritas. The conversation flowed easily even though it was composed of the kind of small talk Cheri usually hated. He was a masseur; she needed a massage. They had so much in common! She felt as if she had known him forever -- like it was a Match Made in Heaven. Lol, just like the name of that app she had used the night she booked this vacation. Yes, things were looking up. Maybe she’d have a comfortable place to sleep tonight after all...

As they ordered a second margarita, a “Hello again, Dear!” came from behind. It was Maude from the shuttle and her husband Elliott.

“And how are you settling in, My Friend,” Maude asked, peering out from under the wide floppy brim of her new, sadly unattractive bargain hat. She and Elliott plopped down at the table without invitation.

“Don’t get me started,” Cheri replied. “It’s not at all what I expected. But I don’t wanna talk about it right now. How is your second honeymoon going?”

“Even better than last year’s,” chortled Elliott, “if you know what I mean.” Maude blushed.

“Last year’s?” Cheri laughed, surprised. “I assumed you’d been married a bit longer…”

“Well, when you find the right person…” Elliott and Maude said at exactly the same time.

“...Then why wait?!”  Ken and Cheri completed the sentence in unison, then looked at each other for a long time that somehow lasted only three seconds, the periphery vanishing until Elliott asked, “Have you two known each other long?”

Ken and Cheri exchanged another meaningful glance, the margaritas came, and the conversation turned. Turned out Maude and Elliott had met at this very hotel this very weekend three years ago. They had both come on some sort of special promotion, but they were vague about the circumstance as if they were somehow embarrassed about it.  Two years ago they had married, then honeymooned here. 

After Maude and Elliott left, Cheri could no longer keep her secret. She omitted the details like her screaming fit and the condescending guest services representative.

Ken was not surprised.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. That is a ridiculous policy, and they are taking advantage of you. When I booked, I called up and expressly asked for a single room, which I received. Let me help you. Let’s go to the desk together.”

Ken’s confidence in a fair and just world for those who seek it soon gave way to incredulity. 

“Yes sir, that is correct. We gave you a singles room.”

“I asked for a room for a single adult, not a “singles” room. You mean to tell me that you have paired me with a complete stranger?” Ken was in disbelief. Here he’d thought Cheri was the gullible one.

The representative positioned the monitor for Ken’s viewing pleasure. He highlighted the relevant text:

Rooms will be filled to capacity. Due to cuts in staff because of Covid-19, and concern for preserving the environment, the Duplicitous Gecko will be consolidating all reservations to the smallest footprint possible. Thank you for doing your part during these difficult times.

Cheri looked over his shoulder. Shit, she’d read that before. How many people had this happened to?

Her eyes strayed to the top of the screen, where she surreptitiously noted a thumbnail photo of Ken and his registration information:

Type: All-inclusive

Special Requirement: Guests must be vaccinated for Covid 19

Special Promotion: Made in Heaven, LLC

Passport number: M-442213-05

Marital Status: Divorced in 2017. No kids.

Income Range: $100,000 - $150,000

Outstanding Loans: Mortgage $3400/mo; Automobile $360/mo

Preferred vendors: Amazon, Overstock

Clothing Brands: North Face, Calvin Klein

Vaccinations: Covid-19, MMR, DTaP, IPV, Hib

There was more. Cheri looked away, feeling uncomfortable, as if she was breaking some basic level of human trust to spy on Ken that way. Still, wouldn’t it benefit them both to know such intimate details about one another? I mean, what did an honest, law-abiding person have to hide, anyway? What harm could come of it? She dismissed her misgivings.

What was her story? She reviewed what had brought her to this moment, right here and now, standing beside the handsome Ken at a beautiful hotel in Mexico, ocean breezes skimming electricity across her skin and his as they stood together at the counter. 

Made in Heaven. Tap, tap, tap, tap…

Vacation Promotion. Tap.

Airline ticket. Tap.

One single adult. Tap.

The perfect bikini. Tap. 

The perfect cover-up. Tap.

Cute red sunglasses. Tap.

The perfect man. Tap.

“Would you please double-check my room assignment?” asked Ken, incredulous and escalating.

“Yes, sir, Singles room A-213. One roommate.” The guest service agent was firm. He looked down, staring intently at the screen, trying very hard to look studious.

“A-213”??? Cheri’s breath caught in her throat. “That’s my room!” This was almost too much to take in. 

The tension at the counter evaporated.

Ken turned to her and smiled a broad smile, so broad. “Our room, my dear. Ours.” He offered his hand. For the first time she felt a little uneasy.

But wasn’t he a dream come true, really? she reassured herself. When you find the right person… She never would have believed he would be so easy to find. What a wild coincidence.

Her phone chimed. A pop-up? What the hell? She’d have to download some better protection. She’d noticed her battery wasn’t lasting very long these days, either.

She heard Ken’s phone a moment later; the chime sounded just like hers.

“Romantic Sunset Cruise. Perfect for your Dream Proposal!” it read. It was uncanny, the way technology could anticipate your needs. Instant gratification. What a world! So convenient! So much opportunity at your fingertips!

The agent looked up from the screen. “Sir?” he prompted, but Ken and Cheri were focused on their phones.

She tapped. 

So did Ken.

You could say they really clicked!

And Google collected yet another 30% for an in-app purchase. 

So little to ask for selling so much happiness, thought the guy behind the counter. 

And as Cheri and Ken headed to their room, he turned to greet Roberto, a single man from Texas.