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?
Christine made a point of saying different things had helped her writing. One was being part of a writing group, this had helped because she had other like minded people to read and critique her work. She advised writers to use all of the five senses to put the reader into the story, so they can see, taste, hear and feel what the writer is saying.