The Mysterious RV Park (An Excerpt from the Novel)
What’s really in the red beer?
We walked to the beach that we’d never actually seen up close and stood in sand that was soft and gray in color in the waning light while we watched the shadows extend toward us from the setting sun behind the palm trees to the west.
I said, “This really is beautiful. Even though we can’t actually see the sun setting because of the cove, it certainly gives off some great colors. It almost makes me wish I were a painter instead of a writer.”
“Next time we’ll have to bring the camera,” Marty stated as if he was certain there was going to be more than one next time.
“Good idea. Maybe we can bring our drinks down here on Sunday for our Happy Hour, instead of at the trailer.” I quickly added, “Just in case we do leave on Monday.”
With Marty’s look of chagrin at my possible change of mind about contemplating an extension of our stay, or having already made up my mind, I hugged him and repeated, “Just in case. Don’t want to miss an opportunity, do we? Besides, if we do stay, we’ll know which we prefer to do, drink on the beach or at our own little patio.”
I felt his body relax. That gave me mixed emotions: wanting to smile at his boyish behavior, but at the same time feeling a little trapped. It seemed to me that if I ended up really wanting to leave this creepy place, Marty was going to be very disappointed. Did I want to disappoint him? Was following my own feelings worth having an unhappy man around? I didn’t like the position that left me in, but it wasn’t the end-of-the-world kind of position. And so I wasn’t going to worry about it until the time came to decide and then weigh the positives and negatives about what to do.
I sighed with relief at my own temporary resolve.
Marty, not knowing what had just gone on in my head, interpreted the sigh as a feeling of contentment, or whatever he was experiencing in his own mind. He gave me a squeeze as we watched the sea get darker, barely seeing the ripples of waves as they approached and washed the shoreline.
“Better march on if we’re going to see much,” he said with anticipation in his voice. I wondered if the anticipation was about getting the…
