“You’re rooting for Iowa?” I asked.

“Northwestern, actually,” he said. “My alma mater.”

“Ah.” I knew more about football than basketball, and nearly all my basketball knowledge was limited to the San Antonio Spurs in general and Tim Duncan in particular because he hailed from St. Croix and some of my Small cousins had actually played a pickup game with him once on the courts in Contant. But it was best I change the subject. “So, your friends left you behind?”

“They went into Cruz Bay,” Russell said. “Looking for women.” He held up his left hand. “I’m married, with two boys.”

“Well, your wife is a very lucky woman,” I said, and I patted his shoulder. “Your next drink is on me. How did you like the conch fritters?”

“I loved them!” he said. “I was meaning to ask if you knew a place I could get some real Caribbean food. I have the day to myself tomorrow and I want to explore.”

“Well,” I said, “if you want local flavor, go to the East End. There’s a place called Vie’s on Hansen Bay.”

He took a pen out of his shirt pocket and pulled a cocktail napkin off the stack. “Vie’s?”

“She makes some mean garlic chicken and the best johnnycakes,” I said. “For a few dollars, you can rent a chaise on her beach.”

“Is there shade?” Russell from Iowa City asked. He held out a pale, freckled arm and I thought, This poor guy. God bless him.

“There’s shade,” I said. “Here, I’ll draw you a map.”

I clocked out at eleven, sorted my tips, marveling at my windfall from Todd Croft, and decided that I would stop by the Ocean Grill at Mongoose for a drink on my way home. I headed past the Sugar Mill on my way to the parking lot and stopped to say hello to my wild donkeys, Stop, Drop, and Roll. They always looked a little eerie at night, more like ghost horses than white donkeys, and the backdrop of the stone ruins of the sugar mill only heightened the otherworldly effect. But I thought of these three like pets—they rarely wandered off the grounds of Caneel—and I couldn’t ignore them.

In retrospect, I should have realized that Oscar knew this. He jumped out of the shadows and grabbed my arm.

“Baby.”

I gasped, though I wasn’t exactly surprised. A part of me knew there was no way he’d left. I had already planned to turn on the flashlight of my phone and sweep the back of my car before I climbed in. “Let me go, Oscar.”

He held tight. I checked behind him for Borneo or Little Jay or even Lucinda Caruso, but there was no one on the path in either direction. If I screamed, Woodrow or one of the other security guards would hear me and escort Oscar off the property but the last thing I wanted was everyone all up in my business. As soon as it got out that Oscar had shown up at the restaurant and made trouble, my mother would hear about it and somehow twist it into being my fault. She would say that I had led Oscar on or had acted recklessly by walking to my car by myself.