Caribbean Calm by Ken LaRive

Caribbean Calm

By Ken La Rive 120893

We passed hot days behind pastel curtains and cooling wood fans. Her blond pale beauty glided from room to room in flowing gowns of alabaster and coral. Smiles reflected glowing drapes of beach glare on soft porcelain skin. Damp breath and whispered laughter filled my ears as we lounged on the verandah hammock. Knots of creaking hemp calmed my mind as the afternoon turned to evening in each others arms.

In the twilight cool we would drive our red Stellar under giant breadfruit and palm, darting along Georgetown boulevards of pink stucco and aqua-blue sun blinds. With sweet dusk breezes on our faces, we would search for rare treasures through cavalcades of multicolored boutiques. Women in white summer dresses, and men in colored cotton shirts moved slowly along the boardwalk, glowing festivity in the late day sun.

Mingling with tourists, we would watch the sun die as glinting gold on the tide, and breathe the chilled night breezes of Caribbean spice, sea salt, Poinciana, periwinkle, and rum. From tables of crisp linen, we hardly noticed our Cayman waiter floating past, refilling our “sun-downer” from a frosty pink pitcher of Pimm’s cup. Shells of lobster and bowls of conch salad are ordered, followed by plantain slices and scoops of stuffed land crab. Small green parrots squawked goodnight in the gloom of lofty mahogany trees as the last patches of sun would flicker as a rosy halo around Maddy’s head.

Somewhere along the beach of strung lights and moon was the sound of children’s revelry and steel drums. Wavelets chimed like broken glass beyond the rail... Tiny rainbow fish danced in the shadows of crystal water, drawn by the same light reflected in Maddy’s eyes. I caught her glance at the blue-black horizon band and a pair of white schooner sails bellowing to safe night’s harbor. Holding her hand I could close my eyes... and a hush of calm would fill me...