Beach Trip Read Online Free PDF Page B

Captain Mike cut the engines, and the yacht slowed to a crawl as they entered the harbor.
    The whole island had been built to resemble a sleepy New England fishing village. Tall gray-shingled cottages and storefronts clustered around the marina. Behind the village, to the north and west, the marsh glimmered between banks of tall grass, while the interior of the island surroundingOld Baldy was covered in a maritime forest of live oak, saw palmetto, yaupon, and wax myrtle. To the south and east stretched miles and miles of uncrowded beaches. And everywhere, sitting up on the dune ridges, clustered in small enclaves beneath the spreading live oaks, and along the quiet marshes, were the weathered cedar-shingled houses, their tall roofs and mullioned windows glittering in the sun.
    “Oh, my God, it’s beautiful,” Sara said.
    “Yes, it is,” Lola said. “I’ve enjoyed it so much.”
    There was something in her tone that made Annie ask, “Are you getting ready to sell it?” Mitchell had promised her a beach house years ago, but somehow they’d never gotten around to buying one.
    “Oh, no,” Lola said quickly “It’s just, well … it is beautiful, isn’t it?”
    “Like something from another century,” Sara said.
    “Where are all the nightclubs?” Mel said.
    Lola laughed. “No nightclubs, I’m afraid. Everything pretty much closes down at ten o’clock.”
    They pulled slowly into a slip not far from where the ferry was unloading its crowd of happy tourists. A long line of trolleys connected together and pulled by a motorized cart stood waiting to whisk them to their rented houses. Each trolley bore the name of the house where its occupants would be staying, and the porters, sweating now in the heat, hurriedly loaded the luggage from the ferry onto the appropriate trolleys. Tired parents climbed on board to wait and watch with weary smiles as their excited children pointed out boats, bicycles, turtles, and seagulls.
    Captain Mike helped the women disembark, then followed them up the dock to the landing. “You go ahead and take the smaller golf cart, Mrs. Furman,” he said. “April and I will come along later with the luggage.”
    Everywhere they looked there were golf carts, traveling like gypsy caravans along narrow asphalt roads, parked in front of the storefronts with their electrical cords tethered to rows of electrical outlets.
    Lola’s golf cart was a custom-built unit made to resemble a Mercedes. Lola, noting their expressions, said apologetically, “It wasn’t my idea. Briggs had it specially built.” She disengaged the electrical cord and climbed in and Mel climbed in beside her. Annie and Sara sat behind them, facing backward. Lola slammed the lever into reverse and quickly pulled out into the road. She pushed the lever to the right and took off with a sudden lurching motion that caused the women to grab for the nearest canopy frame.
    Briggs had also had the electric motor modified so that the cart, which normally had a cruising speed of eight mph, now clipped along at a frightening speed of twenty-five mph. Lola laughed and talked the whole time, waving her hands and turning around to talk to Annie and Sara in a way that made Mel nervous.
    “Damn it, Lola, let me drive,” she said, but Lola just laughed and kept talking about Henry and his new girlfriend. They sped along a narrow winding road that led from the village to the interior of the island. There were only two major roads, Blackbeard’s Wynd, which ran down the middle of the island through the maritime forest, and Stede Bonnet’s Wynd, which ran along the beachfront.
    “Most of the roads are named for pirates,” Lola called gaily as they passed a slower-moving cart. She lifted her hand and waved. The people in the cart waved back.
    Ahead Mel could see the intersection where Blackbeard and Stede Bonnet split off from each other. She looked nervously at Lola. “Which way are we going?” she said. Lola showed no signs of slowing