Cindy wondered if all the drivers were instructed to warn travelers before taking them there.
“Most go to the West Coast,” He said. “There’s plenty of rooms available there.”
“I always go to the El Barado,” said Cindy.
“Always? Yeah? You like it there?”
Cindy didn’t feel like having a discussion, She wanted to get to the hotel.
“Let’s go,” she said.
He made a face, turned around, started the car, turned on the radio loud, and drove off.
“Can you make the radio lower?” she said.
“I like it loud,” he said.
The radio blared reggae music for most of the drive. Cindy leaned near the window and looked out at the little villages she and Clint had passed. Rows of sugar cane farms and tiny villages of single-story houses once again dotted the landscape. It was early, nothing had woken up yet and the villages seemed eerie, almost ghost towns, with barely one person to be seen.
In what seemed like no time, the cab wound up the narrow road, behind bushes and towering palm trees, to the El Barado hotel, nestled in the rocks, besides the ocean. And the beach that had claimed Clint’s life.
Everything seemed closed. The cab parked in front of the hotel and to Cindy’s surprise the driver tooted his horn loudly to let them know they’d arrived. Then he got out to get her luggage.
Cindy got out of the cab. It was shocking to be back here. The place was exactly as she remembered it, with nothing changed, except that the clouds were quickly becoming a little heavier, and the wind was picking up.
The driver went back into the cab and leaned on his horn again.
“It’s nothing, miss,” he said grinning. “Do it all the time. Got to let them know they got a guest.”
At that very second, the entrance door to the hotel flung open and Alex came running out, his arms spread wide.
“Miss Cindy, Miss Cindy” he said, moved to see her. “What a pleasure to have you back here with us.”
Cindy was thrilled to see him. But it also felt odd, arriving so early and alone. This was a honeymoon spot for couples. But Alex knew she’d been here with Clint. He remembered what had happened, had taken a special interest in them. She hadn’t gotten to say good-bye to him properly when she’d left before. That last day was all a blur. They’d put her on sedatives to calm her down. Greerson had been there, accompanying her to the airport. She didn’t remember seeing Alex at all at the end.
Cindy ran up to him now. He was such a strong connection to Clint. She wanted to hug him, like an old friend, but stopped just a moment before she did.
He held out both hands and grasped hers in them.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, his eyes welling up with tears.
Cindy grasped his hands in hers. They gave her strength and comfort.
“Your room is ready,” Alex said.
She’d reserved the same room she and Clint had stayed in.
“I thought maybe you’d like another room,” Alex said tentatively then. “If you want to change rooms, you can.”
“No,” Cindy said. She wanted to go through all the steps exactly as they happened. “No, I appreciate it. I want the room we stayed in before.”
Alex took the baggage from the cab driver, who was listening intently to every word. Cindy paid, tipped and thanked him. He took the money, grinned at her and left slowly through the front door. Cindy was glad he was gone.
Alex picked up her luggage. “Did you have a good trip?” he asked,
“Perfect, easy,” said Cindy.
Alex smiled. “Very good, very good. Let’s go get you settled. “
She followed him upstairs to the room. He opened it and the two of them walked inside.
The room was exactly as she remembered it, the patio overlooking the wide expanse of teeming ocean, the wooden shutters flapped lightly against the windows. Cindy took a deep, salty breath. The huge king bed they’d slept in was there, and so were the seashells and conches, laid out in straw baskets on the table.
Alex put her baggage down and seemed to want to say something, but fought it back, staying silent. He probably wanted to say how sorry he was. He was probably also wondering what in the world she was doing back here now. She would tell him, in good time . Now, she took out some bills to thank Alex.
He shook his head. “Not necessary, Miss. It’s a pleasure to have you here.” Then he turned to leave and stopped at the door. “I hope your stay will be pleasant. If I can help you with anything, Miss Cindy, I’m right here.”
And then he left.
Cindy was relieved to be alone in the room. She went to the bed and ran her hand over the light blue, cotton bedspread, the same one that had been here before. She pulled the bedspread off the bed and held it close, as if she were wrapping Clint around her.
Cindy lay down and stretched out on the bed, looking up at the high wooden, ceiling. She listened to the wind in the palm trees outside and breathed the salt air . Everything was exactly the same as before.
Laying there, she felt Clint’s spirit with her strongly. She hadn’t felt it so powerfully before and felt certain that he would guide her every step of the way.
As she lay there, Cindy went over all the things she wanted to do that day.
First she wanted to walk on the beach, retrace where it happened.
Then, she would go straight to the Coroner’s office to get the report. She needed details about the condition of Clint’s body. Up to now she hadn’t been able to bear even thinking about that. But here in Barbados, a strong energy filled her. She felt planted in nature, powerful and able to deal with anything.
Cindy closed her eyes and slept for a little while and then awoke, swiftly, upset with herself. She hadn’t meant to take a nap. The trip must have tired her out more than she thought. She checked her watch and jumped out of bed and headed right down to the beach.
Even this early in the day, the tides were in and the waves rolling roughly onto shore. Cindy loved the sound of the pounding turf. It cleared her mind and helped her see details she’d never seen before. She and Clint had run along this very beach together. It felt wonderful being here now. She ran faster and faster, in tune to the beat of the waves.
She stopped at the stretch of beach where she’d gone that day Clint died, the spot where his surfboard floated up. It had been a day pretty much like this one, only the surf had been calmer. Cindy stood there looking out at the ocean and gazing around on the beach. There was nothing there that said that a man’s life had been cut short at this spot. That the surf had swallowed him up. As if nothing had happened, the waves simply rolled on.
Farnell’s questions came to mind. How did she know Clint died at this spot? His surfboard had floated up here, but that didn’t prove anything . It was a waste of time to stand here wondering. She had to get to the Coroner’s office, see the report for herself, get the facts.
Cindy broke into a run back. As she ran, she realized how much of this amazing life she’d been blind to. She’d lived in a tiny corner of the world with familiar people and situations. There was no way she could go back to living like that. It was time to open her eyes and go deeper into the island and what it had done to the man she’d loved.
Cindy rented a car and drove herself to the Coroner’s office in town. It took a little while to get used to driving here, on the left side of the road.
It was about a two mile drive along a winding road. The Coroner’s office was a three story building in the Center of town, surrounded by some other small buildings, painted white.
Cindy parked and got out.
Little pebbles were scattered along the main pathway and toads scampered here and there. Cindy entered the building and asked a man who sat on a stool where the Coroner’s office was. He barely took notice of her, just pointed straight down the hall. “Wait a few minutes. The secretary’s on a break . Wait over there and I’ll call you when she comes back.”
He motioned to a small waiting alcove with wooden benches.
