St. Kitts- Return to Paradise ©

By: Gord Collins

Dreaming of a tropical paradise lately? The protagonist of this short storyPaul Brewster, receives a strange invitation to return to the place of his most memorable romance. The setting is the beautiful island paradise of St. Kitts in the Caribbean/West Indies where the present always takes precedence. Will this visit to paradise change his life?

St. Kitts - Return to Paradise Part 1

I was excited to be going back to St. Kitts. It was only a week, but time there was so slow it would stretch to an eternity. The quaint towns were filled with just the right number of laid back local people. The palm mangroves, turquoise water and blue sky and those golden, sandy beaches were always etched into my consciousness. An ever-present sun lit the way for centuries of adventurers and I felt like one of them.

They named it after Christopher Columbus so that made it even more sacred ground for itinerant adventurers like myself. I'd been here so that made me feel special yet uneasy. I stared down at the travel brochures I'd mysteriously received in the mail. The postmark was from the Basseterre post office. My mind faded to a daydream...

There was nothing else to do but live in the moment in sand, wind and water and spend time with a woman whose charm was as warm and gentle as a tropical breeze. The senses so alive and the numbness dissipating to nothing but relaxation. Even as a young man, it was a shock to my system. All the discipline burned away by a bright sun and a curvaceous figure.

Eternal flames.

Small fluffy clouds stretched out below like a carpet rolled out to welcome northerners to a glorious heaven. Each cloud passed like a runway marker down to the grand experience. Well, it had to be a grand experience. Isn't that what these places should be?

I remember her running on the beach, her long hair flowing in the gentle sea wind. Our footprints were alone and lasting, as a crashing surf played continuous crescendos to her steps and mine in pursuit. Rolling in the sand and cascading water, we had what everyone else wanted. Her smile told me everything was real, not a dream. It seemed like yesterday when we..."

"Is'ish yor' first tyme to St. Kitts?" A male voice with a Texan accent interrupted the scene.
"Ah… what." I said, as the warm myst faded to the close cabin of the jet. My eyes struggled to focus.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't know you were resting." It was a young man about the same age I was all those years ago.
"No, that's okay, I was just lost in thought." I had to shake hard to get through the cobwebs of the dream. "No, I've been there before, a long time ago." I said.
"No kiddin, well I think I was there too, but I was just taking my first swimmin' lesson if you know what I mean." He said chuckling at his humor.
"I take it your parents aren't with you this time."
"Ha, ha, no, fraid they're all tuckered out." He said.
"Well, I guess you understand the origins and destiny of the universe then." I struggled with my middle-aged remark and then squirmed to try and get away from it.
"Ya, I grew up on a ranch and I've seen some primitive stuff I'll tell ya." He confessed.
"Well now, that's too bad about your lost innocence mister." I played up a Texan accent to keep the mood light and sociable.
"Hell, I ain't lost it all, I still got some left for the judge when it's necessary." He said pushing back into the seat.

I wondered what situation might have made him get in trouble with the law. His open honesty and well-kempt appearance made it unlikely he would meet up with the law.
"So what are you doing on this flight, sewing some wild oats?" I said.
"Ah, us Texans aren't so wild. Especially those from Dallas." He said.
"Dallas. I remember the TV show and I actually had the whole afternoon to go up to South Fork Ranch. That really took me back a ways."
"Ya, the tourists still really like that place. Did you stop in at Miss Ellie's diner?" he asked.
"Actually, yeah, I went in and had a beer."
"Well, that's my dad that served ya." He said so proudly.
"You're kidding me." I said astonished.
"Nope, he's lived in Parker his whole life. He was a state champion bull rider in the early 80's. That all ended when a bull named Rambo tossed him good." He lamented.
"Rambo, well that doesn't sound promising from the start." I sympathized.
He pondered slightly thinking of his father. "No, it set him back a might, but I picked it up on the rodeo circuit and we've had a good life since 95." He said.
"Like father like son. Is it what you wanted?" I asked stupidly without regard for his feelings.
"Ya, well, what is there for a boy from Parker, Texas anyway?" He said with no resentment.
"You don't look like a country guy really. I thought you might be businessman getting some leisure time in. That rodeo stuff though, is the most incredible thing I've seen and that has to be the kind of life that makes you feel alive." I said.
"Ya, it's a might physical, but I want to do something a little more suffisticated. It's not easy livin' out on a ranch."
"From what I saw, Dallas, Texas is no hick town, so it must be some of the best life you can have" I reassured.
"Well thanks mister. We'all like Dallas too. My name's Jake Brandon." he said jutting his big calloused hand out to me.
"I'm Paul, Paul Brewster." I said sticking out my hand but not with the same force and exuberance.
"Glad to meetcha ya Paul". He smiled with genuine appreciation that his trip was starting off on a good note.
The flight attendant asked if we'd like a drink. Jake asked for something but my mind my mind was out the window.

Jake saw that I wasn't quite in a social mood and stayed focused on his own rendezvous with fate. He could have been on his way to meet his sweetheart who lived on the west side of Parker. Okay, maybe he's got his own story unfolding.

Air turbulence finally woke me from my vision and we began to slide downward to a small plot of land, emerald in the distance set in a sapphire sea. The glowing orange red sun burned to the west sending a shimmering path of copper gold light upward. The edge of the planet and I was never so glad the big ball of fire was lighting the way to my destination.

Eternal flames, burning like fire.

We broke the few clouds to see several emerald color volcanos jutting from a dark turquoise ocean. No lava spewing though, in fact they seemed covered in vegetation. The lights of Basseterre shone up from the plains of Zante. There were those that called this place the jewel of the West with features that made it look like the Gibraltar of the West Indies. Bold projections from the Earth's crust struggling to keep their head above water. I hardly noticed them last time, but their struggles were a platform, a beautiful playground that made the best times of my life. Ancient forces lay dormant so visitors could find themselves anew and relax in soft sand and warm winds with a tropical drink in hand. Nature would took care of everything here.

The sun had set, yet the steel blue sky above hung like a curtain to escort later arrivals to their temporary shelters. I shook hands with Jake again and promised we'd get together for a beer at one of the local watering holes. Jake was a decent guy whom the gods would surely smile upon.

At the arrivals area, I had my luggage and stood outside the airport like something was supposed to happen. Sure enough a black gentlemen, a taxi driver, yelled over at me.
"Are you going to the Frigate Bay area?"
"Ya, are you going there." I said.
"That's right. I'm de Frigate Bay express," He said like it was midday. "Which hotel would you be stayin at?" He added.
"Frigate Bay Resort." I said leaning forward.
"Oh ya, would that be the romance package with Allegro?" he chuckled.
"Romance package, no I'm sorry I missed out on that one. Is it recommended?" I said.
"I'm just foolin' wid' ya. I've just felt good today you know. Don't ask me why, It just happens. I'm not a superstitious man but I can feel sometin', sometin' I get from de' tourists I spose. There must be sometin' goin' on." He said looking bewildered at me like I could solve his enigma.

We talked more on the way and he gave me some quick insight into the life of St. Kitts in the last 16 years. I couldn't help but think I'd seen him last time I was here. He was old enough and said he'd lived his life in St. Kitts and made his living as a taxi driver. He had eight kids.
We arrived in Frigate Bay. I said thanks, gave him a good tip and asked him his name. He just said "Solomon."

In the morning, an intense band of light burned across the room from between the dark curtains. I spread them to an incredible scene of green palms, blue sky, golden white sands and tacky colored umbrellas that stung my eyes. That beach, it was our beach. That's right, it was here.

She ran up to the wooden chaise lounge and wrapped the red towel around her inviting me to join her. That towel was our cocoon, protecting us from some outside threat and warming the cool evening winds. I always thought red was an impulsive color that warned of foolish behavior and on that day, I didn't mind. I brushed the sand from her face and shoulders. We kissed with such abandon, such reckless youth...

I walked the beach that day again and again, but nothing was there. It wasn't the same. Strange tourists roamed about our playground, jet ski boats whined offshore while kids screamed at inflated sharks and monster waves. Why did I come back here?

The hotel room offered refuge so I stayed there all day. What the hell was I doing here so far from home? Chasing the foolish dreams of youth. No more ruining my holiday, I'd get it out of my mind and get into some fun tomorrow. The lobby had a handful of brochures so I clutched a few and brought them back to the room with a nice cold drink. There are a surprising number of activities to choose from in St. Kitts. Hiking, scuba diving, sail boarding, golf, tennis and more, but para sailing looked like it might just be the ticket.

The lessons began at 10:00 a.m. and it looked like a great time. After the crew chief, a woman named Maria gave us the low down on what not to do, I got first dibs on being the first guy into the sky. I couldn't believe I was finally going to get to fly.

The jet boat took off fast and after an awkward takeoff, I was flying high above the narrow beach in the company of sea gulls. A little turn of the hands let me sweep back and forth and then by pulling down on the ropes, I took a fast dive downward not far from some of the palms. This was fun going back and forth along the beach and wasn't that difficult at all. I was swooping like a hawk. Some of the people down on the beach even starting waving vigorously at me and I waved back. Hey, everybody be wavin' today.

With the wind swooshing through the parachute so easily, there was a chance to just look at all those people down there having a good time, relaxing and enjoying their time in the sun and sand. Hovering paradise. Incredible. I was getting tired after a few runs though and my time was up. The boat slowed gradually and I maneuvered downward surprisingly well and a fast, two-point landing would be sure to bring the crowd to their feet. A gust of wind blew up from behind though and I flew past the chute at first running and then sailing headfirst like I was stealing third. The wet beach sand greeted my face and stomach hard.

"Are you okay?" The crew chief asked.
My arms and face stung like I'd just been washed with sand paper. There was some blood but I didn't care. Sure, there was some wise guys laughing at my slingshot finale, but I laughed it off myself. I was awarded a drink of water to cool the pain and then directed to the special chaise lounge on the beach, which I stumbled over to and collapsed on. That brought on some more murmurs and gasping and the sounds of people running. Probably paramedics, because they don't want a scene that'll end up in the papers. Can't a guy just have some fun? A man leaned over.
"Paul, are you alright?" It was a familiar voice.
"Ya, oh, hey Jake how're you doing?" I said squinting against the bright sun.
"Never mind about me partner, I saw that face plant and I can't believe you got up. I'll tell ya, I suffered less at the Calgary Stampede and stayed down for the count. You got bull ridin' potential boy." He said with loud admiration for standers by' benefit.
"Oh ya, giddya up there Rambo. Do cowboys bleed this much." I said pushing up a red towel at him.
"Only on the bad rides." He laughed. "Plug that wound and I'll see you at the casino bar at seven over at Jack Tar Village. I'm gonna practice my old man's blackjack strategy tonight."
"Okay, I'll be there if I'm still conscious." I said. I threw the dry red towel back on the chair and went to get cleaned up."

Part 2

Other short stories by the same writer: The Legend and Casino Man.

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