Page 7 of Wishful Thinking

“Coming in and out, you might get sick if you leave it this low. You are better off running it at least seventy-eight degrees, that way your body transitions better. There’s nothing worse than being sick on your vacation. You here on vacation, right?” Sal sat his bag down and smiled, remembering that he was “supposed” to be here on a photography mission, as far as the natives would be concerned.

“Nope, got some work to do. I’m a freelance photographer and they sent me here for business. I’m tasked with gettingnice shots for a corporate calendar they give out every year. Figure I may get some of both in, if I play my cards right. Is there much to do around here at night? A tiki bar or something like that where the locals hang out?” Stella laughed and responded.

“Don’t squander any time, do you? I see a tipsy vacation in your future. The Chug-a-Lug is down a way on your left. It sits right on the water and that’s where the locals like to hang out. Been there myself a time or two, but now I preferto crashon my porch, enjoy the quiet, and savor my wine in peace. You can stop down and have a drink with me. I buy it by the case, so have plenty in case atenant needs a bottle. You can walk to the Lug. I see you took a taxi, so guess you may have to, unless you know someone down here. It’s not far. You can walk down the beach to get to it. There is a tract that goes under water at high tide, thenyou shouldn’t gothrough. Don’t chance it, the rocks will cut you to shreds if you try. Better off cutting through a yard and hitting the road if you find that happening.”

Sal followed Stella as she showed him the bedroom. The queen-sized bed took up most of the room, and the closet door was open revealing a tall chest dresser where he could unpack his clothes. It smelled like citrus and he approved of the small cottage. Stella left the bedroom, went down a hallway. She opened two sliding doors that led to a porch on the back of the small house, two dock chairs sat overlooking the water. A table sat between them and he pictured himself and Belle sharing a glass of wine beneath a star-filled sky, crafting dreams of their future. He shook his head, realizing that Stella was waiting for a response.

“If you need nothing else, I’ll leave you be. I stocked the fridge with everything that Bob asked for, and the excess beer is in the closet beside the cupboard. If you need anything, I left my number on the counter. Call and I’ll have theboat bring it in if I can’t get it here from the locals.” She watched him and he walked towards the door to see her out.

“I will be back in the morning to finish up the gardening. Won’t take me more than an hour, but I don’t want to disturb you, maybe around seven a.m., if that works for you? If you change your mind on a drink, I start at seven sharp. I can fill you in more about some places you might find useful for your photos, super-secret spots knownby us locals” Sal smiled.

“That sounds intriguing, I may have to drop by” he said,thenshut the door behind her. Sal walked around the small cottage, set his bag on the bed and unpacked the meager clothes he had brought. He hung the Hawaiian style shirts and changed into his flip-flops. Moving to the kitchen and grabbing a beer out of the fridge, he ambled out to sit on the porch. The turquoise water soothed his senses, and he inhaled the warm salty air. The waves rippled on the shore that lay dotted with seaweed. Sal watched a young boy walking barefoot in the water.

He ran back in and grabbed his camera. Zooming in on the child, he saw the solemn look on the child’s face. The boys' hair blew in the breeze as he stopped to stare out towards the horizon. A pod of dolphins were close to the shore, and Sal watched as their fins rose above the surface. Squeezing off a few shots, he centered back on the boy and caught him in a smile. His tanned skin told Sal that he was a native. School wasin progress on the mainland, so not a vacationer. The boy disappeared from view, and Sal settled back in to decompress.

He thought about Belle. Bob said he nestled him close to the area where she lived and he hoped to get situated before encountering her. Their breakup had not gone smoothly, and he wondered if time had tempered her, he hoped so. Downing the rest of the beer, he looked at the pictures he had taken. The boy looked to be around ten years old. Sal figured him to be at the point in life where he would fillin to his body. Long thin legs carried him forward on his mission and his perfect white teeth, minus one, filled his face when he smiled. The child looked content and happy, and Sal smiled. He hoped to meet him at some point.

Sal bumped the temperaturehigher before heading over to Stella’s for a drink. Closing the door behind him, he felt the heat in the enclosed area clinging to him like a cloud;The perspiration began beading up on his arms and he hoped that Stella had a fan or a simple breeze to cut the humidity. He passed the house that sat between his and the Yella fella, as Stella had termed it. The place was unlit, and the neighborhood was quiet. Apicket fencesurrounded her home. Unlatching the small gate, he made his way towards the pathalongside her home. The sweet aroma of gardenia blooms hung on the air and he inhaled.

“Ah, I figured you’d make your way down. New-comers always want the lowdown on the area. I see you are no different.” Stella handed him a glass filled with deep red wine, not asking his preference, just making the call. A platter of nuts and cheeses sat on the table in front of the white wicker furniture. He accepted the glass and took a seat where she motioned him.

“Thanks Stella, I appreciate it.” He took a sip and grinned as the Pinot Noir slid down his throat. He took a minute to gaze at the view and was happy to see a breeze blowing the palm fronds. Beside her house, a short distance away was a two story home in a pale, delicate pink hue with white trim. The windows were open and he could see white sheers blowing in the wind. Stella gazed towardswhat Salstaredat and chuckled.

“Ah, that right there is the mansion. That placeis a sight to see. It’s alsothe safest place onour end of theisland if weget astorm surge. She had it built up years ago. It is up to snuff as far as modern architecture goes. Money will afford you that. Me? I’m happy to have my little nest eggs here in the complex. I can make a living. With no kids, the localanimal shelter will make a bundle when this old broad is dead and gone. Lord willing it won’t be soon. This girl’sgot plenty to do here on this earth.”

Sal took a handful of nuts and chewed them as he listened to Stella. He wondered if the big pink was where Bella lived and was careful not to ask and blow his cover. It didn’t take long for Stella to answer his thought, and he figured she enjoyed being the center of gossip of the party for two.

“That is the princess’s castle. She’s a beautiful girl, but keeps to herself. I don’t know where she gets her funds from, doesn’t seemaspoiled rich kid, but she’s nice. She doesn’t say much about herself. I know she’s not married, and she lives alone with her cat. She likesmy books. Did I mention I’m a writer? Just ebooks and the occasional paperback,but they sell like hotcakes. Belle edits them for me, that’s the princess, her name is, get this... Tinkerbelle. Can you believe that? I shit you not. She told me her mother was an absolute fanatic over anything to do with the world of the mouse. Who the hell names their kid that? She goes by Belle, and even better, her brother’s name is Mickey. The best part is she doesn’t accept payment when she edits for me, that is priceless. But you couldn’t have a better neighbor, I suppose.”

Sal gave nothing away as Stella talked about Belle, but almost spilled his wine, knowing she was right next door. He took another drink as Stella jumped up and ran into the house.

Returning a minute later, she handed him a small book. The cover photo was a black and white shot of a man and woman half dressed in the throes of a passionate kiss. The title, "Sex In The Sand"emblazoned across the top in a hot pink swirling font. He raised his eyebrows, glancing at Stella.

“Oh, I hadn’t mentioned it did I? I write erotic books, guess you could consider it softporn, not the hard core stuff.” Stella looked at the book in his hands and grinned.

“Go ahead. Take it with you. Just make sure you leave it behind when you head to the mainland, it’s my personal copy. That was my first book. I’ve become much better since, and my pen name is Stella Studlove. Clever, huh? The tale isracy, but I’m sure you’ve read worse, enjoy.”

Sal set the book asideand turned, seeing something moving in the window of Belles home. A woman with long blonde-silver hair had stopped and glanced out, beforedisappearing. He grabbed a piece of cheese and listened for the next half-hour. Stella described the picturesque sites, the characters in the neighborhood, and the coast on the other side of the island.

“I can drive you to the nudie beach, best place to get a tan, and the tourists don’t know it exists. Wouldn’t that make a nice center spread on the calendar?” Sal,confused for a minute before recalling the earlier reference he had given her.

“If you want to go by yourself, I can drop you there.Justcall mewhen you are ready toleave. The sunsets on that beachare spectacular. Thehuman sights, meh, not so much. You see one old wrinkled fatfart, you seen‘em all.” She giggledwith gusto, and Sal wondered if Belle ever went there. He could visualize her, set against beautiful burning orange and red skies. The silhouette of her breasts high and curves that thrilled his senses, ending with the smile she gave as she moved towards him.

“Can I get you more wine?” Sal realized he was woolgathering and came-to as Stella re-filled his glass.

“Evenings here getquiet. The Lug is where the action happens. Make sure you get a trip in there while you’re here, they’ve got live bands certainnights, and it’s where the young folk hang out. A lot of underage drinking goes on, but if they behave, the owners don’t care. Business is just that. Money is king. Not much else to do here.”

Sal leaned back and watched as the skies began to grow darker. The waves settled down and the moon reflected like a neon orb in the ripples. A shadow on the beach drew his gaze and he could see a long white gown moving in the breeze. Bellestood there facing the water, her long silver hair hungto her ass, and he felt his heart beat faster. She held her hands above her head as if stretching, then held them to her sides as she spun in a slow circle. Lookinglike an angel, her body swaying in an erotic dance on the beach, and Sal wished he had his camera to capture themoment. He sipped his wine andstopped as she turned and looked his way. He held his breath and watched her as she watched him.

“Ah, there’s Belle now. Want me to call her over so you can meet her? She’s around your age, maybe you two might click. That girl needssome hot romance in her life. I forgot to ask, you married?” Sal was barely listening as Belle turned away and moved down the beach, her billowing white figure disappearing from view.

“I figured if you were, you’d have brought a wife with you, evenif it’s a working vacation. Too late, she’s gone. She does this every night, unless there’s a storm. I call her the white ghost, because she’sthere one minute, gone the next. I wonder where she goes every night? Not muchthere except forrocky areas and an old cave, but that gets filled at high tide. Notthe bestplacein the darkness.” Sal wondered the same thing.

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