The Ever After Glow

Sandy’s son, Michael, visited his mom in the assisted living facility. He chatted about his hunt for a sailboat to live on and cruise the Caribbean. Sandy’s initial reaction was negative, she wanted him close to her, but as she listened, she started to dream about spending time in warm turquoise waters.

Sandy had lived an adventurous, colorful life, completely on her own terms. Unfortunately, that life caught up with her and her cancer returned. Sandy never made the trip to Bahamas while she was alive.

Her son, Michael, took the urn with his mother’s ashes with him when he moved onto the boat. When the boat was ready, he set off across Lake Ontario into the Erie Canal and made his was down to Florida. Eventually he sailed across to Bahamas where the turquoise waters and warm breezes welcomed him.

One evening at sunset, Michael brought the urn out on deck. He toasted the sunset with a rum punch while holding the urn in his other hand. A unexpected boat wake rocked the sailboat and the urn hit the back stay, knocked the lid off and it tumbled into the sea. The urn emptied and the ashes drifted on the tide and the currents. The ashes settled in the crevices of coral rocks and amongst the mangroves on Beryl’s Beach in Warderick Wells Cay.

Sandy took a little time collecting herself and fitting her parts back together. She was seriously annoyed at her son’s clumsiness. She muttered, “Typical stunt, Michael, now look what you’ve done!”

Then she looked around at the beautiful, isolated beach and lush tropical jungle and decided it was a good resting place.

After the sunset she could see herself softly glowing and discovered she could roam more easily until dawn. She wandered the beach, marvelling at the mangroves with their feet in the salty surf. A couple of rodents scurried by her on the trail and disappeared into the short palm trees that lined the trail. They reminded her of her beloved Jack Russels. She later learned that they were protected Hutia, an animal that was once thought extinct. She enjoyed their company but wished they’d poop a little less.

If a tourist stepped onto the island after sunset, Sandy sent hordes of mosquitos, no-see-ums and sand fleas to scare them away. She was a little lonely but she couldn’t walk around glowing with tourists around or she’d become an episode of Ghost Hunters.

One night while she was walking her beach, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and swung at the being behind her. She was shocked when she saw it was a skeleton without a head. The skeleton was frantically pointing to where his head should be. Sandy surmised that he was trying to search for it. She remembered hearing one of the tour guides talking about a man who disappeared and his skeleton was discovered on the beach. There was some sort of confusion and somehow his skull was buried in Georgetown and the rest of his skeleton remained in Warderick Wells.

As creepy and uncommunicative as he was, Sandy enjoyed having company on their nightly beach walks. However, his frantic gesturing in the direction of his missing head and his constant digging in the sand for his skull annoyed her. She devised a plan.

Sandy overheard a couple on the beach discuss their plan to sail to Georgetown the next day. She poured herself into their dinghy and hitched a ride to Georgetown. When the couple went ashore to the popular bar, The Chat and Chill, Sandy stayed on the Island.

During the day she’d listen for stories and at night she searched the possible spots for her companion’s head. Finally she found it and hid it under some sea grapes. She waited until she heard a couple talking about a trip to Warderick and then rolled the skull into their dinghy and hid it under some life vests. She managed to slide herself in after it.

That night she had to stop the skull from chatting. He was excited to be found and she had to tie his jaw shut with a painter line so the couple wouldn’t hear him.

The journey to Warderick was windy and choppy. Sandy had to secure them both as the dinghy was tossed about as it dragged behind the small sailboat.

Eventually the passage ended and the next morning the couple took the dinghy over to the beach, but it was the wrong beach. They pulled up on Rendezvous Beach. Sandy flipped up the life jacket and rolled the skull into the water and swished it under a rock.

After sunset the skull started moaning. He was very distressed that his body was not here as she’d promised. Sandy cursed, she was regretting trying to fix her skeleton companion.

“I liked you better when you didn’t talk. Stop nattering ,while I think of a plan.”

Since it was low tide, she picked up the skull and walked around the coral outcropping. She could hear a clacking sound coming from the opposite direction. As she rounded the corner she saw the skeleton waiting in the shallow waters of Beryl’s Beach.

When they met, skeletal arms reached out to grasp the skull. He twisted it on his neck and smiled, but his smile faded. It wasn’t quite right. He complained that he didn’t have his head on straight.

Sandy laughed. “Most men don’t have their heads on straight. But don’t worry, mine is straight enough for the both of us! Leave the thinking to me!”

Harold introduced himself and explained his situation. He’d been mixed up in a drug ring that went bad. He’d been accused of stealing money and the mob took him out. Sandy nodded and said she had her own experiences with the mob.

Every night they walked the beaches and trails sharing their secret pasts, unburdening themselves without fear of judgment.

One night a bottle of rum washed up on the beach. They waited until the cruisers on their boats stopped blowing a salute to the setting sun on their conch shells. As they enjoyed the music and the laughter carried on the warm, salty breeze, they each took a long swig from the bottle. Disappointed that there was no burn, they looked down and saw a puddle beneath them. Harold shrugged and took another glug. Sandy laughed as she did the same. She mentioned that he was lucky alcohol no longer affected her, or she might just knock his head off again.

On nights with a full moon they would hear the voices of the shipwreck victims from long ago, echoing down from Boo Boo hill. The ghosts of the lost souls stayed on the top of the coral hill overlooking both the calm bay and the raging sound.

Sandy and Harold guarded their beach. They chased away tourists and smugglers who dared step foot on the beach after sunset. They also protected the Island from storms. They both had lived lives full of chaos and turmoil, they wanted nothing to disturb their eternal paradise.

All the secrets from their complicated pasts are safely kept between the two of them. After all the dead tell no tales.