Page 21 of Harper's Holiday Romance
The fifth Great-tailed Grackle of the day almost landed on my head. I didn’t know whether to be offended or not. They seemed to fly from one large green tree to the next. Did that mean my pool sodden hair looked like a palm tree? Potentially. The only reflection I’d seen inthe past two hours was through Billies black Ray-Bans. The Mexican birds looked like lanky crows. They were small in size, but they made an array of loud sounds ranging from sweet notes to calls that sounded like a rusty gate hinge being projected through a megaphone. Strangely, I found that less annoying than the overbearing screeching that erupted from the pool area.
“Birds are so pretty,” I said.
“Are they though?” Billie questioned. We acquired the same spot as the day before, except this time a new set of sun loungers had been placed next to Billie’s bed during our absence. The tall gentleman in bright blue budgie smugglers practically shoved his bulge in Billie’s face whenever he got up to leave.
“I think so.” I shrugged.
I loved any species of animal, even the little fly I saved from drowning in the pool earlier that day. I scooped it to safety on the floating rubber dingy, and it shook itself like Gaga did when she’d been out in the rain. Its little wings fluttered back and forth as it steadied itself to take off again. I saved its life.
“Hey, what does this remind you of.” Sarah began flailing her arms back and forth in a half-trot half-gallop along the edge of the pool. She reached the part where the steps gradually descended into the pool; there was a rail in the middle, a specification for safe entry. Sarah grabbed a hold of the metal railing with both hands and gingerly made her way down, legs sprawled and face scrunched.
“Who am I?” she asked excitedly.
“Erm.” Billie had no clue.
“Oh, come on!” Sarah started to portray a terrified individual. The shaking was drama school worthy convincing.
“What the hell are you doing?” Billie laughed.
“Oh... wait... I know who you’re trying to be.” I tapped Billie. “Did we watch the TV show all the time in high school?”
Sarah nodded emphatically.
“Tell me. Right now it just looks like Sarah’s got the shits and she can’t get to a toilet.” Even the guy in the budgie smugglers laughed, although he pretended not to watch.
It was a fair point. It did look like that. The couple to our left also looked and laughed in a way that said,I don’t want you to think I’m watching and judging you,so I’ll laugh, but I am really watching and judging you.
“She’s Mr. Bean,” I clarified. The swimming pool episode had been one of our favourites.
“I didn’t watch it, but I would give you an A+ for whatever that west end performance was,” Billie said.
“Wait,” I grabbed a hold of Billies knee forcefully. “You didn’t watch Mr. Bean?”
“Ow.” She smacked my hand away. “No, I’m younger than you two remember?”
“By six months!” I protested.
Sarah appeared like a cloud of doom as she blocked the sun and proceeded to drip her soaking wet body all over my legs.
“Is she saying we’re old again?” Sarah rolled her eyes.
“Look, don’t hate me because my parents got to it quicker than yours did.” Billie was the youngest of four siblings, and all of them arrived within a seven-year period. She claims her parents planned to stop at three, and she was technically the mistake, which is why she felt the need to overcompensate in the womb, develop quick, and arrive a month early. Her parents weresurprised to say the least when a routine trip to the supermarket turned into a water-breaking situation. She continued to surprise her parents for the rest of her life because she was quote on quote, “a fuckinglegend”.
“Didn’t your dad try to sue the condom company for false advertisement?” Sarah teased.
“Yes, the packaging loured him into a false sense of security apparently; he was promised a good time and instead gained a lifelong commitment, but I suppose he won in the long run. I mean, look at me. It took them four attempts to get such an outstanding child.” Billie tried to keep a straight face, but her smile broke after a few seconds.
“You really are full of it.” I laughed.
Sarah shook her entire body like a dog does when they exit the water, except with less commitment. When Gaga did it she almost knocked her small barrel shaped body over.
The soothing sound of the birds did a number on Billie. She was fast asleep, her chest half covered by the sun damaged paperback book she’d been reading. I carefully removed it from beneath her red knuckled fingers because I was considerate. I could’ve let her burn a book-shaped tan line into her pale torso, but my conscience wouldn’t allow that. Sarah, on the other hand, spent ten minutes attempting to throw bits of nacho into Billie’s gaping mouth. She failed miserably, so now Billie was one crumb away from being a bird’s paradise. They were already homing in on her from the treetops.
I gathered my things and set off towards the beach. I figured a walk would stop my body from being fried like an egg on a scolding concrete sidewalk. The floppy soft brim of my fedora sagged down at the front; the majority of my face was shaded. The white two-piece linen set I’d acquired online was a solid holiday purchase. I had to roll the shorts over twice for them to not fit like a bath towel, but the over bikini shirt was the perfect length, weight, and material to compliment any pool day outfit. I made a mental note to purchase it in black when I returned home.
The hotel was big enough to get lost, but not so big that it took a decade to get from one part to the next. I passed the thatch roofed bar and grill; a chalkboard on the outside had my mouth watering with its extensive menu of junk food. I would be back for guacamole and chips when my lunch settled. I took a right by the side of the main pool to avoid walking through the alcohol fuelled rowdy section. The main pool quite honestly filled me with dread.
Literal crippling panic.
