by Pinki Parks
The second level had three bedrooms including a master with its own separate deck. Harmony had taken possession of that room. The driver was going to become intimately acquainted with what was hidden behind those closed doors.
We dropped off our luggage and got back in the car.
“I hope you don’t mind company. I have a good book I have been dying to read. I just hope I can concentrate on the characters developing between the pages.” She was referring to the possibility of Harmony becoming quite vocal with her affections.
The landscape outside the window flew by, but I was enjoying a slower pace of living. Nobody was in any hurry to get anywhere. The heat made things come to a standstill with people trying to find a relief from the stifling humidity. Little kids were using buckets to dump water on top of them and teenagers had gotten their hands on some water guns.
They looked happy with the very little they had. The rest of the world could definitely take a page from their book. There was something simple in their smiles. The island boasted lush vegetation with low lying fruit hanging from the trees.
We passed quickly through a neighborhood struggling to make ends meet. This was the underbelly of the island where unsavory characters peddled their wares. Women in scantily clad clothing were indulging in the world’s oldest profession. They were selling their bodies to the night. Even in the harsh glare of daylight there were still some flaunting what their mama gave them.
It made me a little jittery, but I calmed down after we bypassed those staring at us in judgment. We soon came across an installation with a barbed wire fence and an armed sentry standing at his post. The uniform was indicative of a branch of the military I knew well. The Marines were born and bred to do the impossible. My father served before his accident.
“Salvatore, can you tell me what that place is used for?” I caught him off guard and whatever Harmony was doing with her hand had his undivided attention.
To be continued…
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