A new life and journey in Jamaica.
|Elizabeth sat staring, watching the horizon for the green bolt of heat lightning as the day turns to night. The locals believe it is a reflection from turtles jumping out of the water far out in the Caribbean, only a few are fortunate enough to see it as the sun sets. If she were lucky, she would make a wish. Shortly after the flash, sparkles on the water from the shore lights will appear. It was magical; they would remind her of being a kid in Illinois and watching fireflies dance in the dark.
She sipped the coconut water brought earlier by the old Rasta man. He was there every evening to make his final delivery of the day. He would push his cart up the hill to the villa, even though she was his only customer in the area. He saved the best coconut for her. She was in no mood to visit and ask about his day, to hear gossip from the market or some trivial news from town. She wanted to be alone and watch for the flash. She left the money on the front steps and he left the coconut, perfectly chopped, the paper still left on the top of the straw. It was an evening ritual since she moved in. He would know when she wanted to talk, and like tonight, when she didn’t want to hear his tall tales.
Most nights she found the cool water from the coconut refreshing. Even with a shot of white rum, tonight it was flavorless. Janis Joplin’s Greatest Hits was playing on the CD of her favorite songs, no reggae tonight. The music echoed against the walls of the patio before drifting out to sea. The pain in Joplin’s voice matched her sadness. Looking out, the water began to shimmer; once again, she missed the flash, no wish tonight. With tears starting to cloud her eyes, she poured herself a second shot of rum, this time minus the coconut water. Tonight her only desire was to numb the regret hidden deep inside. Trying not to love someone was the hardest thing she had to do.
The phone rang in the other room, she did not move. She heard the high-pitched tone; someone left a message.
“Damn it Liz, pick up the phone, I know you’re there. I’m just going to keep calling.” Todd waited. “I’ll call again tomorrow… Liz, I miss you… we need to talk… call me back… please”. He threw the phone on the bed, the bed he tossed and turned in every night since she left. He could not get her out of his mind. He turned on the water; maybe a shower would relax him so he could close his eyes for a few hours and get some much-needed rest.
Later, Elizabeth turned off the music and went into the house to turn in for the night, she saw the number on the caller ID; she deleted the message without listening.