“Yeah, let’s get this show on the road, for pete’s sake,” Gus added, pointing the putter like another person might point their forefinger.
Freddy retrieved some paperwork from the director’s office before loading luggage into the belly of the bus. Sherwood stood by watching Freddy work, while the seniors formed clumps to talk. Shouldn’t I be doing something besides watching the muscles in Freddy’s arms? Sherwood scolded herself. As if to reinforce her self-doubt, she overheard snippets of their conversation.
“Who is she, anyhow?” a woman asked with annoyance.
“Some kid.” The word ‘kid’ was spoken with obvious distaste by another resident that she did not yet know. “College graduate. Bet she thinks she’s big stuff, gonna come in here with her fancy degree and tell us how we need to do things. She’s probably never even seen a domino and thinks ‘ice cream churn’ is the name of a restaurant.”
“I wish we had Susan back,” the first sighed. “Susan was the best. Why’d she have to go and move, anyhow? Why, I was born and raised in Virginia. Wasn’t ever a need to go anywhere else.”
“Yeah, Susan was the best activity director we ever had,” a man said.
“She was the only activity director we ever had, Smith,” a woman corrected.
Dismayed and curious, Sherwood strained to hear more but moved on so she wouldn’t be caught eavesdropping. One look at Freddy’s face told Sherwood that he’d overheard them, too. He offered an encouraging smile as he gracefully climbed out of a luggage bay. It helped, but not much. Sherwood was already nervous about the upcoming week and the seniors’ collective attitude wasn’t helping much. It was obvious they’d already decided they weren’t going to like her. She might not get the job, but at least she’d see the beach. Beef up her tan. Spend a few days with Freddy.
An hour after the bus had pulled into Great Wings, it lurched slowly back through the entrance gates. Freddy sat in the spring-loaded driver’s seat and, concentrating on driving the beast, did his best to handle the turns smoothly so his passengers wouldn’t be jerked around. He was also trying not to think about the beautiful girl behind him. He’d never imagined this type of good fortune in his dreams.
Sherwood sat behind Freddy, thinking that the past weeks had been a crazy rollercoaster ride. Graduation, a broken engagement, a move, a potential job, a trip to the beach with a group of retirees that didn’t like her, and an old study partner as her driver. A very handsome driver. Wearing a starched uniform that she had thoughts of ripping off him. Go figure.
***
Plush with comfy reclining seats, oversized tinted windows, flat screen TVs and a digital sound system, the bus also had a small lavatory in the rear. At the front of the bus, Sherwood sat next to Ethyl Froogin, self-proclaimed motorcoach traveling expert of Great Wings. Ethyl was one of the few who had only packed one piece of luggage, a fact which she bragged about for the entire time it took to load the cargo bays. Sherwood had listened to her words of advice on how to handle the group for over an hour before Ethyl finally got drowsy and snoozed. Apparently, there were many intricacies to being a tour group leader, such as alternate between unloading from the front row and the back row. It was quicker, Ethyl claimed, plus people sitting in the rear wouldn’t get mad because they were always last off the bus.
The only other bus Sherwood had ever been on was a yellow school bus. Like a school bus, this one had rows four seats across, divided by a center aisle. The difference was that Freddy’s bus was all about luxury. High headrests that offered privacy between the rows, drink holders, footrests, LED lighting along running the length of the ceiling and floor and huge tinted widows that offered big views of whatever was passing by outside.
Taking advantage of the blessed silence from her seatmate, Sherwood stood and stretched. She needed to address her group before walking the aisle to see how everyone was doing. She faced her group, using the top of her seat for balance as she swayed on the moving bus. “Um, can I have everyone’s attention please?” she called in a loud voice. There was no response. She thought about how her mother used to get everyone’s attention at a dinner party by tapping a fork on a glass. Unfortunately, she had neither a fork nor a wineglass.
“Everyone? Can I have your attention please?” she repeated in her loudest voice. “Sherwood.” Freddy’s voice was low behind her. She turned around and leaned over to see what he wanted. He explained that she must always use the microphone. Otherwise, only the first few rows would be able to hear her.
“The bus has a microphone?” she said.
Keeping his eyes on the road and trying to maintain a straight face, he pointed to a wireless mike, clipped in place on the console. She stepped down to retrieve it, figured out how to turn it on, and turned back to face her human cargo.
“So, how is everyone doing?” her amplified voice carried through all the ceiling mounted speakers. A few soft snores drifted up from somewhere in the rear of the coach, and she could hear Gus mumbling something about getting stuck with an aisle seat.
At least I have a captive audience, she thought. They can’t go anywhere. Except to sleep.
“I just wanted to officially introduce myself. My name is Sherwood Tyler and your director, Jane Sullivan has assigned me the task of being your group leader for the week.” It started sooner than she expected. Their attitude.
“So why do we need a group leader, anyhow? And, how old are you?” The question came from Smith in his usual deep baritone voice that needed no amplification to be heard throughout the entire bus.
“You need a group leader to get you everywhere on time and to make sure we don’t leave you behind somewhere. And, as for my age, I’ve just graduated from college. But, I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time, even under my inexperienced direction.” Sherwood wondered if they caught the bite in her words. She wasn’t going to let them rake her over the coals right off the bat. Later maybe. But not right away, without giving her a chance.
There was a moment of silence until Jack said, “Well, she’s a feisty little thing, Smith. Gotta give her that.”
“Yeah, and we could only hope to be so lucky. As to leave you behind somewhere, Smith,” a man said, turning around to raise a bushy eyebrow at Smith. Sherwood moved closer to see that his nametag read Burt. Thankfully, Jane had reminded her to distribute the lanyards and nametags. Some of her passengers had actually hung them around their necks.
Rebutted, Smith returned his attention to Sherwood. She was pretty, he thought. Beautiful, actually. Her features were strong and dark and precise, creating an aura of eroticism. Something in the way she spoke reminded Smith of his wife. He thought back to their sailboat journey some forty-five years ago. They had been together for six years and by that time in their marriage he was earning a respectable salary. They’d chartered a forty-foot sailboat to carry them on a two-week vacation. He could still pull up the vision of Marion standing on the bow laughing. He’d been the king of his world, until it happened, the accident that killed her. Smith’s world had crashed down around him and come to a complete standstill. He hadn’t wanted to live. But, here he sat, forty years later. Alive, well, and going on. Still, the slightest thing, such as the pretty girl standing at the front of the bus, would remind him of his wife.
Sherwood stuck her shoulders back and forced herself not to slouch as the residents studied her. The snoring had stopped and it appeared that they were all listening now. Except her seat mate, Ethyl, the traveling expert who lay propped against the window looking like something out of an intensive care unit at the hospital. Ethyl’s head protruded from a silver inflatable neck pillow that looked more like a brace than a device for physical comfort. Her feet were in neon yellow Isotonic slippers. A black eye patch stretched across her face, apparently to keep out the annoying early morning light. White zinc oxide was coated on her nose to prevent sunburn. Sherwood wondered if the UV rays could actually penetrate the bus’s mirrored windows. She’d have to ask Freddy about that later. If nothing e
lse, it would give her an excuse to talk to him when their workday was over. But right now, with ninety-plus eyeballs focused on her, the end of the day seemed a million hours away.
She raised the microphone back to her mouth. “That’s about it for now—I just wanted to say hello and let you know that I’m looking forward to meeting each of you in person. Everyone should have a copy of our itinerary, so let me know if any questions. I have a few decks of cards and also the two coolers in the back are full of drinks, so help yourself. Freddy’s going to put on some music right now, and later we’ve got a movie to watch. Relax and enjoy the ride!”
“Susan would have brought books and crossword puzzles for us,” a woman in the middle of the bus complained, loud enough for Sherwood to hear. Sherwood made a mental note to purchase some for the return trip. They were going to be a tough group.
Crinkling her nose at Freddy’s reflection in the giant rear view mirror, she flipped the microphone off. He smiled and turned on the satellite radio, tuning into an easy listening station. Smooth, jazzy tunes floated out. When Sherwood leaned over Freddy’s shoulder to return the microphone to its holder, she caught a whiff of cedar-like vanilla. Some sort of aftershave with a crisply clean, masculine scent. Without meaning to, she moved a bit closer and breathed a bit deeper. She wondered what the skin on the side of his neck would taste like if she licked it during a kiss before bolting upright. What am I thinking? This was Freddy. Marching band, straight- A, big brother Freddy. She fell clumsily into her seat. Beside her, Ethyl adjusted the black mask, burped, and being careful not to dislodge the air-filled neck pillow, turned to face the window.
Terrific Time Tours Myrtle Beach Itinerary
Great Wings Seniors
Wednesday
3:00 PM: Arrive in sunny Myrtle Beach where you’ll be staying at the oceanfront Sea Shell Hotel. Relax on the deck area overlooking the Atlantic Ocean or get your toes wet in the surf!
7:00 PM: Chief Kamu’s Fire & Hula Show at your resort. Enjoy a mouth-watering authentic Hawaiian Luau buffet with music and an exciting Polynesian Fire Dance.
Thursday
6 - 9:00 AM: Continental breakfast at your hotel.
10:00 AM: City tour by trolley of Ocean Boulevard and downtown Myrtle Beach. Ride the SkyWheel in a fully enclosed, air-conditioned gondola.
1:00 PM: Let the kid in you shine through at a miniature golf tournament. Four person teams, best ball. Prizes awarded for 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place teams. Refreshments.
5:30 PM: Dinner at the Original Benjamin’s Calabash, a 200+ item, all-you-can-eat buffet, featuring seafood, Italian, and southern style cooking. Inside, you’ll find the largest nautical museum in South Carolina, so be sure to explore!
8:00 PM: Sit back and relax while the cast of the Alabama Theater entertains you with a variety show featuring country, gospel, and rock & roll music.
Friday
6 - 8:00 AM: Continental breakfast at your hotel.
8:30 AM: Depart for shopping & sightseeing at the Grand Strand’s largest entertainment and dining complex, Broadway at the Beach. Lunch on your own – choose from more than 20 restaurants. Shuttle available.
1:30 PM: Leave from Broadway for bus tour of South Carolina’s 2nd oldest city, Georgetown. Lots of Lowcountry history during a walking tour of Mansfield Plantation. You’ll learn about rice cultivation, tour a historic plantation house, and see original slave villages. Powered wheel chairs and golf carts available.
6:00 PM: Dinner at Damon’s Grill on the ocean – known for their BBQ ribs. A favorite among locals!
8:00 PM: Experience South Carolina’s state dance, The Shag, at Fat Harold’s night club during a shag dance demonstration. Reserved seating area and free T-shirts.
Saturday
8:00 AM: Breakfast at the Sea Captain’s House, a locally-owned eatery overlooking the ocean that boasts eggs benedict and seafood omelets.
9:00 AM: Free day. Golf, deep sea fish, shop, tour the waterway by boat, sightsee or just relax on the beach. Public transportation available.
5:30 PM: Enjoy a choice of 3 entrees at Carrabba’s Italian Grill.
8:00 PM: Calvin Gilmore’s Carolina Opry, a mix of music and entertainment featuring more than 40 performers.
Sunday
6 - 9:00 AM: Continental breakfast at hotel.
8:00 AM: Golfers depart for a round of play on a Jack Nicklaus delight. All others, enjoy free time.
1:00 PM: Depart for Ripley’s Sea Aquarium, where you’ll walk through a submerged glass tunnel and watch the sharks and exotic fish swim around you! Lunch at the aquarium restaurant.
4:00 PM: Matinee show at The Palace Theater.
7:00 PM: Dinner at Thoroughbred’s Restaurant—fine dining in an equine-decorated environment.
Monday
6 - 8:00 AM: Rise & Shine! Continental breakfast hotel.
8:30 AM: Depart for home.
Four
Myrtle Beach, South Carolina
The Sea Shell Hotel
Wednesday, late afternoon
“Hi. I’m Sherwood with the Great Wings Retirement Community group. I’m the group leader. Do you have a rooming list for me?” It was nearing four-thirty in the afternoon and Freddy had gotten the group to their destination. They were in Myrtle Beach and the scent of ocean air had reached Sherwood the moment she stepped off the bus. She’d asked the seniors to remain on the coach until she returned with their room keys. That way, there wouldn’t be mass confusion at the check-in desk. She learned that tip from Freddy’s tour guide book, which she’d read during the drive.
“Pardon?” A front desk clerk stood behind the counter of the Sea Shell hotel wearing black slacks, a white shirt, and a blank look on his face. Sherwood wanted everything to go smoothly and the clerk’s demeanor was not comforting, especially after enduring three hundred and fifty miles worth of Ethyl Froogin’s traveling advice.
Sherwood handed him a business card from Great Wings. Her name was handwritten across the top. “Did you not hear what I said, or do you not understand what I said?”
“No need to be nasty. I’m here to help you.”
“I don’t mean to be nasty. It’s just that my group is ready to get off their bus and it almost appears as though you’re not expecting us. Let’s start over.” She pointed at the Great Wings business card. “My name is Sherwood and I’m the group leader for this group. As confirmed last week, we’ve got forty-six seniors, plus the driver and me. There should be a rooming list and key packets ready for us so everyone can check in their rooms.”
“You’re with who?” The clerk tucked in the back of his shirt.
“Oh, no.” Sherwood wondered if she was at the right hotel. She looked at a rack brochure on the counter. It said Sea Shell Hotel. “Is your manager in?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He turned to make a phone call, apparently trying to reach someone in charge. Of anything. Sherwood waited. The clerk continued to tuck his shirt.
“Have you located the manager?”
“He’ll be here in just a minute, ma’am,” he said.
“Right.”
Sherwood headed out the front doors and walked to the idling motorcoach. Freddy saw her approaching. The door slid open with a smooth hiss and she climbed aboard. Antsy from the long drive, she knew that her passengers felt the same. Maybe worse, considering the bits of medical talk she’d heard during the drive. Her group had herniated disks, gout, arthritis, emphysema, and sinusitis, for starters. Plus, she knew that several needed to use the restroom, even though they’d made several highway stops along the way. Oddly, the seniors didn’t like to use the lavatory on the bus. Apparently, it was for emergencies only.
She reached for the microphone. “I know you’re all ready to stretch, but if you’ll be patient for just a few more minutes, I’ll be right back with your room keys and you can go directly to your assigned room. It’s now...” she looked at her watch then continued, “just after four o’clock, so you’ve got some time to stretch out and relax
before you have to be back on the coach at six. Your luggage will be taken directly to your rooms according to the rooming list, so just make sure you get your personal items off the bus. I’ll be right back.” She handed the microphone back to the Freddy and the grumbling began immediately.
“Susan wouldn’t have made us stay on this cramped bus, for pete’s sake,” Gus complained.
Sherwood didn’t stick around to hear the rest. Freddy followed her off the bus and began unloading a variety of colorful baggage from the cargo bays onto the sidewalk. The first bag he pulled out was held shut by two leather belts. The next piece was multi-colored and smelled like mothballs. He hadn’t seen a tie-dyed duffel bag since the sixties. For an upper class, stylish group, he thought, they certainly toted their belongings around in some interesting luggage. He hadn’t paid much attention earlier in the morning when it was still dark, but now in bright sunlight, it looked like he was setting up for a rummage sale.
Meanwhile, the Great Wingers obediently remained on the bus. But they were impatient. Back muscles ached, stomachs growled, and legs needed to be stretched. In the hotel, a manager had appeared in the lobby. He was frantically stuffing room keys into labeled envelopes, as the front desk clerk called out room numbers to him.
“You must be Sherwood,” he said briefly glancing up from his task at hand. “We’ll have these done in just a sec. We didn’t expect your group in this early. I’m Gregory, by the way, the general manager. I want to personally thank you, or Terrific Time Tours, for giving us the opportunity to serve a bus group. We’d like to begin booking for more groups in the future.”
Mayhem in Myrtle Beach Page 3
