The Meeting By Kevin Drum

I nervously brush the lint from my jacket, withdraw a cigarette from the silver embossed case, tap it on the cover and light it. I exhale and through the smoke haze scan the poolside bar and surroundings

The relaxed murmur of the guests enjoying evening drinks soothes me. Diamond Head is aglow in the background flaunting its evening dominance in the setting sun. As if in applause I hear the huge crashing waves of the Pacific Ocean on the nearby foreshore.

Where is she? I’ve travelled half way around the world to meet her. Surely she won’t let me down. Surely?

From the first moment I saw her I was transfixed by her beauty and quiet assurance. I was drawn by her eyes, dark liquid pools, mysterious as an Arabian night. The brief contact as we were introduced, her exotic fragrance, the feigned fall, and her quiet but forceful words. ‘I want you more than life itself. Help me to get out of here.’

There’s some movement, bustling, just near the entrance. Shouting. I am adrenaline charged prepared for anything. I move quickly towards the commotion, and there she is. A large swarthy man has hold of her arm, dragging her. ’Let me go! she cries. ’Let me be.’

I drop to one knee, aim the Glock and fire. At that precise instant they stumble. I see the bullet hole to the forehead, deadly and final.

I am blessed as part of a wealthy family. I want for nothing. What more could my heart desire?

Until that fateful day.

I see him and know it is meant to be. He isn’t an important emissary or leader. Just part of one of the many retinues my family entertain in pursuit of their business. With that fluid movement I find so attractive, he works the room.

Secluded beyond my chador, I can only watch in breathless admiration.

Now he is in front of me, takes my hand and with a slight bow, ‘enchanted I’m sure.’ I trip and he stoops to help. ’I want you more than life itself,’ I whisper, ’get me out of here.’

He answers. ‘I’ll leave a note with the doorman. On it will be numbers. They are coordinates and a date. Go to the travel agent, near the clock tower, he will understand.’

‘Madam you are indeed fortunate, here is your passport, first class ticket to Honolulu, accommodation at the Chevron Surfrider Waikiki, and ten thousand dollars.’

We are on final approach into Honolulu. My anticipation is beyond belief.

The cab ride from the airport takes forever, until at last we have arrived. I jump out and call to the driver,’ leave my bags with the concierge, he will pay.’

I hurry to the poolside area, push open the doors and rush inside. I see him walking towards me.

‘Madam one moment please,’ the doorman grabs my arm and I lose balance.

Something is wrong he is down on one knee. Has he fallen?