Summer in Port Royal
Write about a memory of summer.
It's always summer in Jamaica. Sure, there are times of the year where it's cooler than others, but really, when you compare us to more northern climes, there's no such thing as winter in Port Royal.
The summer months here can be very hot, nearly unbearably so. When you work a job like mine, where you're standing over an open flame in a confimed, poorly-ventilated room for hours on end, you develop a kind of tolerance for heat. But even in the summer, there are days when it gets to be too much to bear, and you'd do just about anything to cool yourself.
It had been near dusk that day, and I'd been working for what seemed like countless hours on a new commission. I was dizzy from the heat and crazy with thirst, and found myself with two options: go to the pub to quench one or the sea for the other. The pub was closer, but it would be stifling inside at that time of day, so the sea won the battle. I closed up the shop and headed for a beach I knew would be empty, set on taking a quick swim before the sun set completely.
I stripped down to my trousers and dove into the water. The Caribbean was warm that time of year, but still refreshing. It wasn't until I surfaced a moment later that I realized I wasn't alone. The soft splash just to my left was the first sign, and the light, feminine giggle that followed was the next.
Startled and embarrassed, I lowered myself so that the water reached my chin and turned toward the sound. The sun was low in the sky, glaring behind whoever was there with me, and I had to squint just to make out the shape of her.
"Hot out today, isn't it?"
My pulse, which had already been racing, sped up another notch. "Elizabeth?"
She swam into view, stopping just a few short feet from me. She looked beautiful, as always, with the warm orange and pink of the sunset lighting her face. "I fancied a swim tonight, and remembered you had told me of this beach once. You were right, Will, it's lovely. And very secluded."
As she drew nearer to me, I found myself wondering what sort of garments she was wearing beneath the darkness of the water. Such thoughts were hardly proper, even though we were engaged to be married in a few weeks, and I did my best to staunch them before they went any further. Still she came, until her hands found my shoulders and her toes bumped against mine as they dug into the sand and mud for purchase.
Her fingers were a maddening pressure against the bare skin of my shoulders, and I was finding it difficult indeed to form a coherent thought, let alone speak one. Somehow, I managed. "Have you... been out here long?"
"I have. You made a very fine sight just now," she said, her eyes dancing with what I could only describe as wicked delight. How could any man be expected to resist such bold and playful flirtation?
"You make a fine sight yourself," I countered, a little breathlessly. "You're beautiful."
With that said, I gave in to temptation, took her face in my hands and kissed her quite soundly. She clung to me in the water that night, and I to her, heedless of propriety for once in our lives. And while I will not go into further deatil of our encounter, I will state, for those who may be so concerned, that her virtue was in no way endangered by me that evening. I may be a bit of a pirate now, but where Elizabeth is concerned, I will always be a gentleman.
It's always summer in Jamaica. Sure, there are times of the year where it's cooler than others, but really, when you compare us to more northern climes, there's no such thing as winter in Port Royal.
The summer months here can be very hot, nearly unbearably so. When you work a job like mine, where you're standing over an open flame in a confimed, poorly-ventilated room for hours on end, you develop a kind of tolerance for heat. But even in the summer, there are days when it gets to be too much to bear, and you'd do just about anything to cool yourself.
It had been near dusk that day, and I'd been working for what seemed like countless hours on a new commission. I was dizzy from the heat and crazy with thirst, and found myself with two options: go to the pub to quench one or the sea for the other. The pub was closer, but it would be stifling inside at that time of day, so the sea won the battle. I closed up the shop and headed for a beach I knew would be empty, set on taking a quick swim before the sun set completely.
I stripped down to my trousers and dove into the water. The Caribbean was warm that time of year, but still refreshing. It wasn't until I surfaced a moment later that I realized I wasn't alone. The soft splash just to my left was the first sign, and the light, feminine giggle that followed was the next.
Startled and embarrassed, I lowered myself so that the water reached my chin and turned toward the sound. The sun was low in the sky, glaring behind whoever was there with me, and I had to squint just to make out the shape of her.
"Hot out today, isn't it?"
My pulse, which had already been racing, sped up another notch. "Elizabeth?"
She swam into view, stopping just a few short feet from me. She looked beautiful, as always, with the warm orange and pink of the sunset lighting her face. "I fancied a swim tonight, and remembered you had told me of this beach once. You were right, Will, it's lovely. And very secluded."
As she drew nearer to me, I found myself wondering what sort of garments she was wearing beneath the darkness of the water. Such thoughts were hardly proper, even though we were engaged to be married in a few weeks, and I did my best to staunch them before they went any further. Still she came, until her hands found my shoulders and her toes bumped against mine as they dug into the sand and mud for purchase.
Her fingers were a maddening pressure against the bare skin of my shoulders, and I was finding it difficult indeed to form a coherent thought, let alone speak one. Somehow, I managed. "Have you... been out here long?"
"I have. You made a very fine sight just now," she said, her eyes dancing with what I could only describe as wicked delight. How could any man be expected to resist such bold and playful flirtation?
"You make a fine sight yourself," I countered, a little breathlessly. "You're beautiful."
With that said, I gave in to temptation, took her face in my hands and kissed her quite soundly. She clung to me in the water that night, and I to her, heedless of propriety for once in our lives. And while I will not go into further deatil of our encounter, I will state, for those who may be so concerned, that her virtue was in no way endangered by me that evening. I may be a bit of a pirate now, but where Elizabeth is concerned, I will always be a gentleman.