Maybe the Moon

that, practically closing the place. How we made it back up the hill safely in that golf cart will remain a mystery to me forever. We were both giggling like stoned teenagers when we reached the daunting stairs at the Zane Grey. Neil composed himself briefly, then hoisted me to his chest with an exaggerated groan and began the climb. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Who knew a few scampi could weigh that much?”
    “Just shut up and drive,” I said.
    “Yes, Miss Daisy.”
    That got us both giggling again, more hysterically than ever, until it struck me that Neil had begun to sway ever so slightly,like an oak in a high wind. “Stop,” I said. “We’re gonna fall.”
    He came to a halt and steadied himself. “Just trust me, OK?”
    I gazed down at the necklace of lights along the beach, the black silhouettes of the palms, the luminous white carousel that was the casino. Even at this height, it was far too beautiful to be scary. And what a way to go, I thought, to tumble heedlessly into that mystical landscape in this man’s arms. It would almost be worth it.
    “Just take it a little slower,” I said.
    So he did, and we made it, congratulating ourselves with simultaneous sighs of relief. The little pool was lighted now, the same glowing green—or so I imagined—as the eyes of the cats who slept in the shadows around it. Wisps of vapor shimmied along its surface, beckoning to us. Neil stood stock-still at the edge, as if momentarily hypnotized, then shucked off all his clothes and dived in. His body shot through the pool like a projectile, a dark steel torpedo, surfacing in a soft-spoken explosion at the other end. “It’s really warm,” he said. “Go for it.”
    I glanced around briefly to make sure we were alone, then kicked off my shoes and shed my T-shirt, leaving it on top of Neil’s. My entrance into the water wasn’t nearly as graceful as his, but after dropping like a rock, I managed to flutter-kick my way back up to the surface and catch my breath. I gave Neil a game smile, which he returned from across the way, bobbing merrily above the surface, on the same level as me for once.
    “Nice,” I said.
    “Mmm.”
    I wasn’t sure where to look at this point, so I looked up, found the moon, studied it as a newfound object, huge and pale and perfectly round. It glinted back at me in amazement, like a monocle inserted in haste by an old man who couldn’t believe his eyes. When I looked down again, Neil was paddling closer.
    “Maybe they could use an act.”
    “Who?” I asked, still treading water.
    “This place. Then we’d never have to leave.”
    “Right.”
    “I could play, you could sing ‘Feelings.’”
    “Where? Next to the Ping-Pong table?”
    He chuckled, closer still, walking on the bottom now, though his head remained level with mine.
    “My legs are tired,” I said. “I think I’d better…”
    “Grab hold,” he said.
    “What?”
    “Put your hands around my neck.”
    I did that without protest, and my buoyancy increased instantly, lifting me like a giant’s hand, up and forward, into the sleek porpoise flesh of Neil’s chest. As my feet dangled free, relieved of their task, my muscles relaxed completely. I felt the cedary caress of his breath across my cheek.
    “How’s that?” he asked, holding me by the waist and drawing back a little.
    “Fine.”
    He bounced a little on the balls of his feet. “Where would you like to go?”
    “Nowhere.”
    He studied me for a moment, then kissed me on the mouth. I kissed him back.
    There was a clink. Then the whir of machinery and a final kerplunk. Somewhere in the darkness behind us, a can of soda was removed from a machine.
    We froze in that absurd bouncy-baby position, silent as burglars, with only our eyes to register alarm. Neil was facing the wrong way, but I could make out movement in the shadows, a fragment of something pale. It hissed at us, snakelike, as a pop-top was released, lingered there for a moment, then retreated down a concrete path, to the slapping sound of flip-flops.
    “Damn,” said Neil, grinning. “How long you think they were there?”
    “Who knows?”
    “Oh, well.”
    “Yeah.”
    Still holding his neck, I began to tread water again. I wasn’t altogether surprised when something poked against the bottom of my foot. “What’s this?” I asked, feigning shock.
    He gave me a sheepish look.
    “How long have you had that?”
    “Long enough.”
    I couldn’t resist. “Seems to be.”
    He