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 Holly Winter Living The Life Of Holly June 11, 2003 “You’re going to like him. Really awesome Caymanian guy. He was at a cousin’s wedding years ago. Been a good friend to my family ever since.” “When did you see him last?” “About two years ago.” We were driving on the left side of the road, late at night, in a rental car along the unfamiliar roads of Grand Cayman Island. Oh. I know. But. Luckily Darlin-man had been here before, so we weren’t further handicapped by having me navigate with a map which would have added lots of illegal U turns to our trip. He sort of knew which road signs to follow. “Billy hangs out a bar somewhere up here in the East End.” “Ok. I’m game.” We found the bar. It was a small place with a huge deck. There was blaring Caribbean music playing that was decorated with lots of curse words. Man. My middle school students would love that music. There were men on the deck sitting around little square tables playing competitive dominoes. There were a few women around in short colorful dresses. We found Billy sitting inside drinking a beer. He was surrounded by lots of people and was in the middle of a funny story. “You like it here?” He asked me. “Um. First time. Just arrived.” I mumbled. “But I’m sure I’ll love it.” “Yea mon. Everybody loves it here. You’ll love it too.” “Remember that old lady you introduced my family to a few years ago?” Darlin-man asked. “Miss Lassie.” Billy said. “Holly’s a writer. I thought that the two of them would really hit it off.” “Ok.” Billy said. “Tell you what. Be here, tomorrow morning, between ten and eleven. I’ll take you to meet her.” “You sure? I asked. That’ll work for you?” That wasn’t much notice. Didn’t want him to interrupt his whole life so that I could meet her. “I’m sure.” He laughed. “Glad to do it.” We continued driving through little towns. The ocean was teasing me by being so close, yet so far away. There was an occasional crab crawling across the road. “CAREFUL” I yelled. “Got it. Got it. Got. It.” Darlin-man laughed as he veered back onto the pavement. “Have to get used to driving on the left side again.” I laughed. “Maybe you could adopt the middle of the road. You know. If you get tired of riding on the left shoulder….” The condo was bigger than five of my apartments. And it was right on the beach. I didn’t know what to do first. Unpack? Eat dinner? Run into the ocean? Walk on the beach? Hot tub? We unpacked. I was done in less than five minutes. Darlin-man needed twenty. “How many pairs of shoes do YOU have?” I asked, surveying his lot. “Well. Let’s see. Two pair of sandals. One pair of sneakers. Two pair of nice shoes. Water shoes. And one pair of Tivas. Why?” I laughed. “Oh. Nothing.” I had two pairs. That’s all that would fit into my little suitcase. We walked into the restaurant at ten o’clock, the time they closed. Now. In the states, we would have been treated rudely by the staff who would have barred the entry way with barbed wire because they wanted to go home on time. Not here. We were welcomed, with a casual island friendliness that would last our whole week, which was a good thing. We were starved. After dinner we walked on the beach and sat in the hot tub for a while to wash away the dust of the road. We walked back to the condo, holding hands. “What a great day.” I said. Darlin-man was surprised. “Our vacation hasn’t even started. We just got here.” “Well. It might not have started for you. But. I’m already here.” ------------ About the author: Holly Winter is a teacher and a writer and a flight attendant living in Denver, Colorado, USA. She can be reached at her website or email: Holly@livingthelifeofholly.com Comment on this column in the forum. ------------ |
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