Gabriel stands on the small port, clutching his camera which hangs from a cord around his neck. His white buttoned up shirt has the sleeves rolled up and he shines blindingly in the sunshine. Perched on his head is a straw hat to protect him from the scorching sun, a gift from his concerned mother. He lifts it up his brow, sweat tricking down the back of his neck and he grimaces.

This really wasn't him. The climate wasn't him, the clothes weren't him, the people, the food, the fun expeditions and clubs. The list was endless and all pointing out the fact that Gabriel really, really didn't belong. But he had promised his mother to get pictures, to capture and witness the images she never would.

The people that were leading the vacationers were arguing with the ferry owners, probably about money Gabriel thought. But whatever the problem was seems to be solved because they were waving at them, smiling broadly. "All on board! Come, come!" The rope sectioning off the gang plank is removed and the crowd begins to shuffle aboard. It was a large ferry, rather rusty looking to him, that was there to take them back to the cruise liner stationed in the tropical port at Haiti. It was beautiful, all of it so exotic looking and he feels beset with guilt at his own reticent nature to throw himself into it and really enjoy it like everyone else.

He squints his eyes through his glasses as something white shines into his line of vision and with a strange jerk of the stomach he sees it's a veil. Nuns, Gabriel never liked them. His youthful memories of school was dotted with small, screechy sadistic liver spotted old women with skeletal fingers and mean eyes. After years spent in mortal fear of these women the sight of them even now sets his heart racing, his stomach churning with unease and his mouth thinning with dislike. He narrows his eyes and, as if she could sense his glare, she turns her face around.

His heart doesn't race, it stops. Smooth luminous bronzed skin, a strong jaw angled so the light gleams off the coating of sweat and he watches it bead and run down her throat. Her mouth is very full and it parts slightly, sucking in air, the corners curled down slightly and he lifts his gaze. She's seen him looking, her large black eyes focused on his and he's struck by the sadness in them. But just for a moment as he stands and stares her mouth curves up in a gentle, shy smile. Then she's turning away and the crowd swallows her up. She looked younger then him and stunningly beautiful.

As he sits and fastens his life preserver around himself and places his camera in his rucksack he feels strangely content, happy that he had seen something like that. But as he watches the cloud spiked horizon, the ferry starting to move, he suddenly wishes that he had taken a picture of her and saved that rare moment.

It was to be the most peaceful thought he would experience before the storm hit them.

*

Some time later…

There was a table in the ocean, floating towards him. That was strange enough to his frazzled mind but the nun slipping off it and sinking into the water was just to much. A freak storm had hit and the ferry had overturned. He had been lucky, when he awoke he had been floating on his back and then washed up on the beach.

Gabriel stands in the sand, the surf washing over his feet and for a couple of seconds he stands undecided before with a huge gasp he races into the water and desperately swims to where he had seen her floating. He gulps lungful after lungful of air before diving down, thanking god that the water is so clear. He can easily see her floating, her veil swept up around her face and her black skirt ballooning out around her.

Her back to him he rings his arms around her waist and begins to kick up hard but she's like a dead weight, dragging them both back down. Every time it happens he thinks about letting her go but with his lungs burning for oxygen and some furious kicks later he breaks the surface and sucks in the air, his already sore throat burning and eyes stinging.

"Swim, swim, swimswimswim." He repeats as he strokes backwards, his arm hooked around her until with shaking legs he crawls them back onto the beach and collapses, gasping. But his recovery is short lived when he sees she's still not breathing and he shakes and squeezes his hands over her, suddenly feeling sheepish and angry at himself for it. He tilts her chin up, parts her lips and then pinching her nose, presses his lips to hers and blows. Pulling back as nothing happens he laces his fingers between the other and then sets the heel of his hand under her ribcage and presses down five times, counting them aloud until she suddenly heaves, water pouring from her mouth. "Thank god!"

He turns her on her side as she coughs and splutters into the sand, trying to breathe and sounding like a whizzing rattle. Alternating between pounding and rubbing her back she seems to take in air more easily and she turns to him, looking wired. He smiles at her with amazement, dumbfounded that it was her and feeling completely shaken.

"Ah dios!" She grips her throat in her hand as she speaks with a grimace, her voice just a croak. But the relief and shock in her gaze is overwhelming as tears spill from her eyes .

But all Gabriel can do is stare at her wrists with startled eyes and she lowers her hands down into her lap quickly, her fingers lacing together hard and tight. She's wearing handcuffs.