Copyright 2012 – 2026 by E.C. Field
The ocean was dead-calm and a brilliant shade of blue merged into the dark smudge of a squall line. Although the tropical foliage between the buildings was brilliantly sunlit, the incoming rain band seemed to fade into a pale gray sky. This little cay was in for a storm, soon enough.
It fit my mood, I guess. After staring at a blank page for hours, the beads of blood never did form on my brow so it must be time for a walk and a drink or three. Hemingway would have approved of my mood.
I took my time and passed up the resort bar and the cluster of noisy cantinas around the dock. The beach was as good a road as any, so I stared at sand and sea while the salt air cleared the cobwebs.
It would have been easy to miss the watering hole. Many island homes had a broad, rusty tin-roof veranda. This one also had a nicely hand-lettered sign that proclaimed, “Missy’s Place”. Perhaps a dozen tables of various shapes and sizes were surrounded by an equally-eclectic collection of chairs. An elegant driftwood bar sat behind a matching set of four bar stools that looked like they had come from a 1960s mainland burger joint.
The shade was a welcome relief and I was just reaching for the bar bell, when I heard a voice, beside me. “Good afternoon. What can I get you?”
She startled me since I hadn’t heard her walk up. “Hi there. I was thinking…”
“Nope. You don’t want an ice tea.”
I raised my eyebrows. “How did you know?”
“What you need is a dark rum and coke. Am I right?”
I nodded and watched her move around the bar and prepare my drink. This gave me a chance to enjoy the view. It was hard to guess her age, but she had a lithe, dancer’s body. A deep copper tan accented the laugh-lines on her face and similar fine lines on her hands. Her smile was a genuine pleasure when she set my drink in front of me.
“How did you know I was going to ask for an ice tea?”
“You just had the burnt-out writer look about you and I figured a good, stiff island drink might help you to relax and enjoy this beautiful day.”
I took a slug of the tasty concoction. “Well, thank you for that. You must have a good memory. I don’t recall drinking here before. It must have been when my buddies took me on that bender, last year.”
“Nope. This is your first time here. I was watching you walk the beach and it seemed like a story was trying to form on your face. That usually means a writer.” She extended her hand. “By the way, I’m Missy.”
I shook and introduced myself just as the first drops of rain tinkled on the tin roof. We both glanced out to see and were treated to the lovely tropical phenomena of bands of rain slowly dragging over the bay, a black thunder cloud overhead and everything else still brightly lit with the afternoon sun.
“Hey there! Sorry. I didn’t hear you come up the steps. Can I get you a drink?”
The voice belonged to a beautiful young woman in bikini top and khaki shorts, standing in the doorway.
“No thanks. Missy already got me a great rum and coke.”
She got a really funny look on her face and stepped behind the bar. “You didn’t get this yourself?” Her finger pointed at my half-empty glass.
I glanced around and didn’t see my hostess. “No. Missy got it for me. She was just here a second ago. That woman does move quietly.”
The blonde reached up to a framed newspaper clipping behind the bar. She handed it to me. “Is this her?”
A heavy band of rain drowned out anything else she might have said and the clouds finally darkened the sun as I stared. The news photo showed her in the same outfit, wearing a big smile and hugging her daughter. The girl standing behind the counter. It was dated exactly one year ago and the headline read, “Popular Local Bar Owner Killed in Dockside Accident!”
Happy Halloween!
