She had just finished using the free weights, so I stopped to talk.
"You're early today."
Over her shoulder she looked at me, flashing me a smile. "I felt like shaking things up a little. Been sitting at my desk all morning."
"What are you working on today?"
"My legs.” She tipped her chin toward me. “Are you going to stand there talking, or are you going to get on with what they pay you to do?"
I could have told her the gym didn't pay me a regular salary, but I didn't. It would take the fun out of things. Instead, I chuckled at her brashness. "Sure, what d’you want help with?"
While Gina did her reps, I spotted for her and also helped with her form. She had more height on her than most Chinese people I'd met and she was lively. I'd assumed many people of Chinese ancestry were dull, thanks to limited interaction with them. A preconceived notion which I admitted was wrong. The longer I lived in America, the more lessons I learned about the way people perceived me because of my origins.
Gina was talkative, but right now she was focused on her sets. A light sprinkling of sweat dotted her forehead and her rhythmic breathing brought my mind back to what we were doing. She exhaled long and hard, then put the free weights back in their slots, having completed her lunges.
"All done," she said, giving me a thumbs-up sign.
Her voice was melodious and that bubbly vibe she had going on made me want to stay in her company.
"Great."
I sat on a bench nearby working out my routine for today in my head while Gina finished her stretches then picked up her towel and dabbed her forehead. As I watched her, Kemar popped into my mind and a question followed. "What's Jamaica really like? I mean from an inside view."
I'd heard Kemar's view many times, but was suddenly interested in hearing about the island again from Gina.
She brushed a strand of hair off her face before answering me. "Why d'you ask?"
Before speaking, I weighed my words so I wouldn’t give away anything. "I haven't been there, but I'd like to go one day."
Gina smile was brilliant and accompanied by a pair of dimples that pulled my gaze to her cheeks. "You should do it sooner, rather than later. You'll love the atmosphere and you already like reggae music."
"If the music is all I'm going for, I can get that right here in America."
She walked over and stood in front of me. "You're too serious. You know what I mean. The island has a special flavor—the sights, the sounds, the people. You have to experience it, and hearing the music here is different than when you're actually on The Rock."
I folded my arms and returned her smile. "Is that so?"
Acting like a drama queen, she snapped her fingers and wobbled her head. "You know that's right."
Gina was a trip. She'd always had a special something about her that made me forget how serious I was and laugh just because. This was one such occasion.
"So why the sudden interest?" she asked.
Again, I was cautious with my explanation. "It's not really sudden. Coming from Ghana, I've always been interested because of your artistes, Bob Marley, Burning Spear and Luciano in particular. There's also the whole Middle Passage experience of my ancestors, or should I say the triangular slave trade?"
When she looked blank, I continued, "You know ... how the slaves got from Africa to the Caribbean. Didn't you do history in school?"
"Oh." Her eyes brightened. "Of course, I knew that. I did history at CSEC level."
"What?"
Waving one hand at me, she said. "Never mind. Those are local secondary exams in Jamaica."
"Oh, got it."
She flipped the towel over her shoulder and settled her gaze on me. "So, like I was saying, you should make the trip to the island."
"I have no reason to go, other than taking a vacation."
