Carol Clark - Burned

“Why? I’ll tell them when I get back.”

It was very late when they finally went to sleep.

When they woke just a few hours later, they ordered room service. “I love it,” Carla cooed as she admired her ring. “I love you. I love us. I am soooo happy.”

“I hope the coffee gets here soon,” Jason grumbled as he turned on his side. Two nights in a row he hadn’t gotten anywhere near his full eight hours of rest, which was very important to him. Between the night Carla disappeared and all the phone calls last night, he was way behind on his rack time.

Carla wrapped herself in one of the blue and white cotton robes provided by the hotel and pulled open the sliding glass door to the balcony. She stepped outside, walked to the railing where Jason’s beach towel was draped, and pulled it off. The hotel had specifically asked people not to hang their belongings over the railing. They said it made the place look like a flophouse. They also didn’t want people’s bathing suits and towels getting blown off and landing on other guests’ heads. She sighed deeply. Sometimes Jason was in another world.

Their tower was set back from the beach. From their fourth-floor terrace, they could see people wandering in and out of the shops. Carla spotted the blond-haired woman who had been on the beach with Regan Reilly the night before. Exuberantly, Carla yelled down to her. “Hey!” she called, waving her arms.

Kit looked up, squinting her eyes. “Hi! How are you?”

“Great. I was thinking about what your friend asked me last night-you know, if I noticed anything odd on the beach the other night.”

“Did you think of something?” Kit called.

“No. But it’s on the tip of my tongue-or right off the top of my head, or whatever. I know there was something weird, but I just can’t remember what it was. But tell her I’ll think of it.”

“I’ll tell her.”

“Okay. Have a nice day.”

“You, too.”

Carla went back inside where Jason was slowly starting to come to life. He had decided to make coffee using the little pot on the counter in the bathroom. He ripped open the envelope of coffee granules, and they scattered all over.

“Oh, forget it,” he groaned and lay back down on the bed.

On the desk was a copy of the magazine called Spirits in Paradise. It had a sticker that read: “Please do not remove from the spa.” Carla grabbed the magazine, propped a pillow against the head-board, and made herself comfortable. Skimming through the pages, she came across an article about the Big Island’s version of graffiti. People collected coral shells on the beach and used them to spell out messages on the dark volcanic rocks lining the sides of the highways. Many people used the shells to express their love for each other.

“Cool,” she said aloud.

“What?” Jason asked.

Carla pointed to the picture of the graffiti and explained it to Jason. “Why don’t we go over there today?” she asked excitedly. “We’ll go on the beach, collect the shells, and then write out Jason and Carla forever. And the date. And we’ll take a picture we can show our kids years from now. It’ll be in the collage at our fiftieth anniversary party.”

“We’re not even married yet. I can’t believe you’re thinking about our fiftieth anniversary. I thought you wanted to swim in the big dolphin-shaped pool today.”

“They have gorgeous black beaches on the Big Island. We can go swimming over there. We’re leaving Sunday and won’t get this chance again.”

“We might not get a flight,” Jason said hopefully.

“Let’s call and see. It doesn’t take that long to get there. It says so in this article. And we don’t have to pack a suitcase or anything.”

“How are we going to get around?”

“They say you can rent a car at the airport. Why not? This is a very special occasion in our lives, Jason.”

The doorbell rang. “Coming,” Jason boomed as he jumped up and hurried to the door. While the room service waiter wheeled in a table full of breakfast goodies, Carla picked up the phone and called the airlines.

“A flight at eleven thirty?” she repeated. “You have two seats left? Perfect!” She gave the credit card information and hung up the phone. “Two seats left, Jason. It was meant to be.”

“How come we didn’t think of this before?” Jason asked as he cut up his pancakes.

“Because you took so long to propose, that’s why.”

“The best things to do always come up at the end of a vacation,” Jason muttered. “Things seem like they’d be even better than they really are when you have no time left to do them.”

“Well, we do have time to do this, so hurry up and eat!”

Carla ran into the shower, thinking about the picture they’d take of their names written out in shells. She’d have it blown up and hung over their fireplace. It would mean good luck for them forever. It never occurred to her that this could turn out to be a very bad idea. A very, very bad idea.

G ert and Ev were settled in their seats at the front of the small plane that would soon be taking off for Kona on the Big Island.

“Ready to go,” Gert declared as she fastened the seat belt around her.

“That’s right.” Ev stuffed a giant bag under her seat. It contained everything from suntan lotion to notebooks to an extra battery for her cell phone. She also had a couple of disposable cameras.

“We’ll be taking off in a few moments,” the flight attendant announced. “We’re just waiting for two more passengers.”

“Here we are!” a young girl’s voice cried breathlessly. “We made it!” She stepped onto the plane, and a young man followed her. The flight attendant smiled but urged them to take their seats quickly.

“We will,” the girl replied. As she turned to head down the aisle, she spotted Gert and Ev. “Hey there,” she enthused. “Haven’t I seen you two at the Waikiki Waters?”

“Maybe,” Ev said in a tone that did not encourage further discussion-at least to most people.

“Don’t you love it?”

“Ummmmm,” Ev replied.

“This is my fiancé, Jason.”

“Please take your seats,” the flight attendant ordered. “We are striving for an on-time departure.”

“Okay, okay. See you two later.”

When the couple disappeared down the aisle, Gert and Ev looked at each other.

“Don’t worry,” Gert whispered to Ev. “We’ll handle it.”

In the back of the plane, as she pulled her seat belt tight around her, Carla turned to Jason. “I passed those two coming out of the ladies’ clothing store at the hotel when I was going in. I heard the salesgirl say they’re in charge of a tour group. Maybe when we land we can catch up with them and ask them where we should go for lunch. If they lead people on tours, they must know, right, honey?”

“Right. I just want to make sure we return to the airport in time to catch the plane back. We cut this too close.”

“You worry too much.”

“Usually with good reason.” Jason closed his eyes and fell fast asleep.

O n the way back to the hotel, Regan’s cell phone rang. It was her mother calling.

“How are things?” Regan asked Nora.

“Still snowy. Our poor deceased skier’s relatives are all at the hotel tearing up the joint. They’ve got cabin fever. The streets are still impassable, so the funeral has been postponed indefinitely. I think the family is spending all their time at the hotel bar having a little reunion. They’re now convinced that old Ernest arranged the weather and is sending a message to them to get out and ski. But none of them are listening.”

“You should put on your snowshoes and go over and take notes. I’m sure you’d get some interesting material for a new book.”