Surf's Up

As we drove down the narrow, dusty roads,
the hot and humid air drifted through the windows
of his small, red Jeep, bringing
the warm smell of sugar cane fields,
wet grass and cows.
I gazed out at the children, laughing and playing
at the side of the road.
Their mothers and fathers sat lazily on their porches,
guzzling dark rum and looking on as
their mothers and fathers played rounds of
Dominoes.

We drove passed the fields and drove on
up a hill overlooking
The Ocean.
He hummed along - off key, as always - with the static radio.
I winced as I caught sight of the
Ragin' Surf Point,
recalling my last lesson.

I absolutely detested surfing.
I could never catch a wave, albeit
the board was ten feet long.
On that fateful summer day,
The Ocean trapped me under Its surface
exactly seven times too many.
Each time I went under,
my board sank down with me, throwing me
against the rocks and holding me captive.
I remember gasping for air
as the tide pulled me below.
Fearful and uneasy,
I retreated to the beach and sat on my purple towel,
sipping on a premium, cold bottle of beer from the cooler.
My skin was inflamed, irritated and covered in hives.
I sat on the beach as I waited for him, watching the
waves strike the shore until
the sky was covered with a blanket of stars.
When he finally sauntered up the sand,
his face was dotted with freckles,
his hair white from the salt.
'We chose a great day for surfing.'
He loved The Ocean.
He could swim in it for hours.
We were different in that way.

His humming eventually turned into
belting out the words to the songs -
off key, as always -
and snapped me back to reality.
We drove on in his little red Jeep, away from The Ocean,
until we reached the
Old Town,
bustling with people
and smells of
Hot Beef Roti, Macaroni Pie and Hot Pepper Sauce.
In the market, devious merchants sold their over-priced goods
to clueless tourists, clad in
Tommy Bahama, Bermuda Shorts and
The Infamous Fanny Pack.

We approached another hill and
I thought the Jeep would give up.
We'd be done for!
The tires gripped the sizzling tar on the road for dear life.
The engine spat and sputtered, coughed and choked.
I held onto the seat, clutched my seatbelt and
squeezed my eyes shut tight.
I could hear him laugh at me.
At last, we turned the final corner and
the Jeep rolled to a stop outside a
charming, white house.
His dog leaped and howled with glee
as we piled out, my luggage in tow and
stepped inside, enjoying the cool air that splashed our faces.

In the kitchen, he wrapped his arms around me,
pulled me in close and planted a big, wet kiss on my forehead.
'So, I take it you wouldn't like to go for a swim in the sea?'
I giggled and buried my face in his burly chest.
'Not today.'