work if he wanted it—which most of the time, he didn’t.
Except during hurricane season, roughly September through November, when he would work nonstop with relentless intensity.
Wherever a major weather event knocked boats around, Colin could be expected to arrive in its wake. His prices were high,
and while the boat owners and marina managers might object, they always paid. When Colin Bennett fixed them, they stayed fixed.
After that, he took the rest of the year off—dropping down to the Caribbean in January when Bermuda got too cold or beating
up to Bar Harbor in July, when it got too hot. The rest of the time, St. George’s was just fine. Unless or until the spirit
moved him to go somewhere else.
He liked to think of himself as a gypsy of the sea. And then, along came Amy.
9 the
gleama
It was her roommate Pam’s fault. Amy would never have gone to Bermuda on spring break; Bermuda was where their parents used
to go.
Their
friends all went to Barbados that year.
But her roommate had this thing about Bermuda. Her parents had fallen in love at the Coral Beach Club, dancing under the stars
to the calypso music of the Talbot Brothers. Pam felt compelled to go there, and she could be extremely persuasive.
It turned out better than Amy expected. A lot better. They, too, stayed at the Coral Beach Club, and while there were a number
of old fuds around, and a layer of younger fuds, there was also a younger, with-it group. They played tennis (well) and swam
and did the beach thing, and scootered everywhere—and included Pam and Amy. It was surprisingly fun.
Two days before they were due to leave, they’d been to Hamilton, done the shops, spent a day at the Dockyard and another at
Horseshoe Bay. The only place they hadn’t gone was St. George. But that was a long haul, out to theeast end of the island. “You go ahead,” she begged off. “I’m going to hang here by the pool.”
But Pam had insisted. The Bermuda experience would not be complete without St. George. With a sigh, Amy tugged on her white
windbreaker and tied a white kerchief over her short blond hair. Donning her Jackie O’s, she followed her friend’s scooter
out of the car park.
By the time they took the obligatory pictures of each other in the stocks in St. George’s public square, the sky was beginning
to darken. They ducked into the White Horse for a quick bite. By the time they’d finished their club sandwiches and were ready
to leave, there was a serious downpour going on outside.
For once, it was Amy who took charge. Unzipping the rolled-up hood in the collar of her windbreaker, she put it over the white
kerchief, and was about to lead the way out into the elements, when the young man at the end of the bar spoke to her.
“Not a good idea,” he said, giving her a full-wattage smile. He was so cute that Amy immediately distrusted him, proceeding
toward the door as if she hadn’t heard him.
Pam had, though, and seeing him, she’d hesitated, dazzled by that incredible smile.
“You really don’t want to ride in this downpour.” He said to Amy, still smiling but emphatic.
She ignored him, and held the door open for Pam who was hesitating. “You coming?”
Pam was torn.
“Let’s get going!” Amy declared. “We’re not going to melt! And I don’t feature waiting here all afternoon.”
The young man stood up. “Don’t be dumb!” He nodded towards the window. “It’s the first rain in severaldays. It’ll bring the oil up out of the pavement, and the combination will be so slick, it’ll make anything on two wheels
feel like a pig on ice.”
Pam frowned. “Amy, maybe we’d better—”
“
Will you come on?
” Amy snapped, and glared at the
gleama
(their code word for a mega-cute), as if to convey that his was the lamest pick-up line she’d ever heard.
The young man, not smiling now, held up his right arm and pointed to an ugly scar that extended over his elbow. “I got
Except during hurricane season, roughly September through November, when he would work nonstop with relentless intensity.
Wherever a major weather event knocked boats around, Colin could be expected to arrive in its wake. His prices were high,
and while the boat owners and marina managers might object, they always paid. When Colin Bennett fixed them, they stayed fixed.
After that, he took the rest of the year off—dropping down to the Caribbean in January when Bermuda got too cold or beating
up to Bar Harbor in July, when it got too hot. The rest of the time, St. George’s was just fine. Unless or until the spirit
moved him to go somewhere else.
He liked to think of himself as a gypsy of the sea. And then, along came Amy.
9 the
gleama
It was her roommate Pam’s fault. Amy would never have gone to Bermuda on spring break; Bermuda was where their parents used
to go.
Their
friends all went to Barbados that year.
But her roommate had this thing about Bermuda. Her parents had fallen in love at the Coral Beach Club, dancing under the stars
to the calypso music of the Talbot Brothers. Pam felt compelled to go there, and she could be extremely persuasive.
It turned out better than Amy expected. A lot better. They, too, stayed at the Coral Beach Club, and while there were a number
of old fuds around, and a layer of younger fuds, there was also a younger, with-it group. They played tennis (well) and swam
and did the beach thing, and scootered everywhere—and included Pam and Amy. It was surprisingly fun.
Two days before they were due to leave, they’d been to Hamilton, done the shops, spent a day at the Dockyard and another at
Horseshoe Bay. The only place they hadn’t gone was St. George. But that was a long haul, out to theeast end of the island. “You go ahead,” she begged off. “I’m going to hang here by the pool.”
But Pam had insisted. The Bermuda experience would not be complete without St. George. With a sigh, Amy tugged on her white
windbreaker and tied a white kerchief over her short blond hair. Donning her Jackie O’s, she followed her friend’s scooter
out of the car park.
By the time they took the obligatory pictures of each other in the stocks in St. George’s public square, the sky was beginning
to darken. They ducked into the White Horse for a quick bite. By the time they’d finished their club sandwiches and were ready
to leave, there was a serious downpour going on outside.
For once, it was Amy who took charge. Unzipping the rolled-up hood in the collar of her windbreaker, she put it over the white
kerchief, and was about to lead the way out into the elements, when the young man at the end of the bar spoke to her.
“Not a good idea,” he said, giving her a full-wattage smile. He was so cute that Amy immediately distrusted him, proceeding
toward the door as if she hadn’t heard him.
Pam had, though, and seeing him, she’d hesitated, dazzled by that incredible smile.
“You really don’t want to ride in this downpour.” He said to Amy, still smiling but emphatic.
She ignored him, and held the door open for Pam who was hesitating. “You coming?”
Pam was torn.
“Let’s get going!” Amy declared. “We’re not going to melt! And I don’t feature waiting here all afternoon.”
The young man stood up. “Don’t be dumb!” He nodded towards the window. “It’s the first rain in severaldays. It’ll bring the oil up out of the pavement, and the combination will be so slick, it’ll make anything on two wheels
feel like a pig on ice.”
Pam frowned. “Amy, maybe we’d better—”
“
Will you come on?
” Amy snapped, and glared at the
gleama
(their code word for a mega-cute), as if to convey that his was the lamest pick-up line she’d ever heard.
The young man, not smiling now, held up his right arm and pointed to an ugly scar that extended over his elbow. “I got
Similar Books
