Ben returned smiling, revealing a shiny golden tooth gleaming in the sun.
“She’s open, and completely empty. Do you want to take a look inside?”
“We’ll take it.” To this day, I’m not sure why I said that. We couldn’t even see the house through all the brush. It must have been Ben and his gentle soul. My husband gave me that “You’ve lost your mind” look again.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m not planning on staying here the whole time. Who cares what it looks like? I just want a warm bath, and then I’m going to sit my big white ass out there on that beach and sleep.” When I repeated that line in my head, I felt like such white trash… and I am not fat!
Ben pulled the suitcases from the truck and handed Vincent the machete. “I hope you don’t need it.” Ben chuckled and then grunted as he dragged my suitcase. I had brought a few essential things from my kitchen cupboard, just in case. The hotel was supposed to have a kitchenette, and I’d heard these horror stories about Hawaiian restaurant prices. Our friends, Jim and Alice Berry, told us they went to some restaurant with their rich friends and, while they didn’t see the whole bill, the tip alone was $110.00. Every year, the more they told the story, the more the tip amount grew and grew. I guess it was inflation, but I didn’t want to take any chances and packed accordingly.
With the machete drawn, we’d almost made it out of the thicket when the old gray cat trotted out of the bush with a large rat firmly planted in his jaws. That was something I did not need to see.
“We’ve got loads of those critters ‘round here. And chickens, it’s the state bird, you know. You will never see more beautiful chickens in your life. And pigs….” Ben continued on until I completely forgot about that rat. That’s what southerners do. Before they’ll let your mind linger too long on something bad, they turn the subject completely around. Listen to any southerner who has just heard something bad about his state, he will immediately recite the glories of the food, the hospitality, and the beauty of the land. It was working well until the cat dropped the mangled rat in the middle of the path and dared us to step near it. Vincent manned the machete and cleared us a new pathway to a small clearing, beaten back enough to reveal the front of a long-forgotten house.
