Ann Dávila Cardinal - Category Five

RIGOBERTO SIGHED. ONCE again the trio of gringo college students devolved into a splashing fight, using their kayak paddles to fling arcs of glowing water at each other in the velvety dark. The miracle of bioluminescence, organisms that lit up the water like microscopic fairies, was totally lost on them. Not to mention they clearly werent taking classes in maturity at their pretentious Ivy League university. Rigo had only just finished high school, but he was about three decades more evolved than these douchey frat boys.

He glanced over the dark bay, the stars of the moonless night reflected in the black surface of the water as if there were heavens above and below. After Hurricane Maria the mangrove trees had been practically stripped clean, but now, nine months later, though they werent yet tall, they were proud, their roots digging deep beneath the salty water, holding strong. It would take a lot more than a category five hurricane to destroy those trees.

Not that these a-holes would appreciate the magic of the place.

He breathed deep and prepared his guide voice.

Gentlemen, if we could get back to the tour so I can dump your asses downtown and head to Bananas for a cold beer and an intelligent conversation with my friends. But he left the second half of his thought unspoken. Insulting tourists didnt go over well. Hed tried it more than once.

Yeah, cut it out, you apes! The leader, Jason, chastised the others with a smirk even though he was the one who had started it.

Rigoberto had met many versions of this kid during his various summer jobs on the island. They always came with an entourage, since, he figured, bullying was no fun alone. He glanced at his watch: 8:15 p.m. Only forty-five minutes more. Thats all Rigo was contracted for. He could survive that long. He sat up straight and returned to tour guide mode. The tiny island of Vieques was inhabited by indigenous peoples, the Tanos, fifteen hundred years before Columbus set foot in the Caribbean.

Indigenous, huh? the smallest one said, then patted his mouth and did a racist hoot, laughing. But even his Neanderthal friends seemed to recognize how offensive that was and no one laughed with him.

Actually, no. That was giving them too much credit. They just seemed to ignore everything that one said.

No one would blame me if I strangled them all and left them here. Seriously.

He twisted in his seat to look back at the group, taking a head count without even thinking. It was something you had to do when running tours. Four. He faced forward.

Wait, what?

He spun his head around and looked over the group. One, two, three. Phew! That was weird, he could have sworn he saw a fourth head. A chill passed over his skin despite the warmth of the evening. This whole trip had him on edge. To top it off, that night the bay looked darker somehow. He was used to giving these tours in the pitch black since it was the best way to see the dinoflagellates light up, but there was something menacing about the dark. Another shudder ran through him as he felt something brush across the back of his neck. He just needed to finish this tour so he could go back to civilization and shake this creepy vibe. He turned around and continued in a monotone voice since they werent listening anyway, and they clearly werent capable of actual learning. Then, it was taken over by the Spanish, and eventually in 1941, the United States military took over two thirds of the land, displacing residents and, some say, taking advantage of the islanders when they were struggling to recover from many tragedies.

Hey, watch it, ah-mee-go. My dad was military, Jason said.

Of course he was. Rigoberto gave him his best and biggest patronizing smile. So was my father, actually.

What, like, in the Puerto Rican army? The hairy imbecile named Steve asked.

Rigo winced. No, the same military. You do understand that Puerto Ricans are U.S. citizens, dont you? Okay, so the tone was in his voice, the tone his boss had warned him about. Theyre assholes, but they come from very important families, so dont give them that superior tone of yours, he had warned Rigoberto. But sometimes he just couldnt help it.

Hey, I dont like your tone.

Great, now Jason was channeling his boss. He bit his tongue: he had to deescalate things. He needed this job. High school was over, and it was time to save for college. His familys restaurant had closed in the spring. Winter tourism was nonexistent since they hadnt had power and the palm trees looked like theyd been gnawed on. I intended no disrespect, of course.

The guy grinned at him. Of course. Then he went back to lazily running his paddle through the water.

But Rigo knew he wouldnt get off that easily.

Jason proved that by adding, You do understand that our parents could buy this island out from under you, right?

Dont take the bait, Rigo told himself. Dont do it. He kept paddling.

Jason followed with Oh wait, we already did! and the group dissolved into uproarious laughter and a round of fist pumping.

As he pushed his kayak through the glistening water, Rigoberto fantasized about hitting them all over the head with his paddle. Lets continue with the tour, shall we? Wasnt it enough that the kid Jasons father had helped buy a huge chunk of land out from under the locals to build a monstrosity of a hotel? Now he had to take this abuse? He clenched his teeth tight, the tension spidering up from his jaw into the sides of his skull.

Why does the water glow like this again? The one named Steve asked, as if they hadnt already gone over it several times.

Rigo took a deep breath. As I was saying, the overly salty water of the bay is the perfect environment for the dinoflagellates, the plankton who light up the water when its agitated

Hey, like you, Steve! The little whiny one in the last kayak interrupted.

Steve turned around. Wattya mean?

Dino-flatulence! Get it?

Steve gripped his paddle with his overly hairy hands, his knuckles whitening, and Rigo had this weird feeling things were about to get out of hand. Was Steve going to beat the kid? Was that where the dark feelings were coming from? Rigo watched him carefullywith no plan to intervene, he wasnt stupid.