Richard Eyer Smith's Excellent Adventures in Paradise

Saturday, July 21, 2012


I'm going through a lot of transitions these days. I was asked to put some of my thoughts on paper. Here they are.


He leaned against the railing, as if by moving an inch or two closer he could absorb more of the magnificent view. The Grand Pitons glowed orange and copper in the late afternoon sun, their reflections shimmering to touch the five-masted schooner of the Windjammer fleet. He breathed in the intense beauty and felt a peaceful calm that he'd not experienced before.

"Hey, buddy!" Three crewmen in faux-French Navy striped shirts with red berets approached. His reverie broken, he smiled a silent greeting and turned back to enjoy the glorious view.

The three continued towards him and the largest put a massive hand on his shoulder. "Hey, guys," he said. "I'm enjoying a silent moment here."

Without a word, the three grabbed him, hoisted him over the railing and heaved him into the clear, dark waters.

"Captain's orders!" one yelled.

He saw them walking back to the bow of the ship, chatting and laughing as if tossing guests overboard was an everyday occurrence.

The water felt warm to him and the salty taste was not unpleasant. The sloop was slowly moving away. His hollow cries for help skimmed across the waves and were pulled into the sea. He was alone.

Now, the boat perhaps two hundred yards away, he saw her standing at the stern. He waved his arms to her and saw her climb over the rail and leap into the sea.

They swam towards one another and he heard her voice. She sobbed, she cursed and she called out his name again and again - her chant of love these so many years.

He swam faster, so thrilled to be with her, so grateful for her laser-intense love; even here in the swirling dark waters.

He reached out to her and his joy was so great that he failed to notice as their fate bumped his left leg.

Just below the knee.


A minister, a psychologist and a chiropractor walk into a bar.

The bartender brings their drinks and he says to the minister, "Rev, what's your take on the two tourists missing off St. Lucia?"

"I see the Holy Spirit at work here," he says, raising his beer to his lips. "We know from the Book of Jonah and the Twenty Third Psalm that no one is ever truly lost."

"And St. Lucia!" he continues. "St. Lucia is the Mother of Lost Travelers!"

So, now the bartender moves in front of the psychologist. "Doc," he goes. "What do you think about all this?"

"More to the point," he says, shifting his weight uncomfortably on the stool. "What do you think?"

With this, the chiropractor leans forward, turns to his companions and says, "I know what I think!"

"Oh? What do you think?" goes the bartender.

And the chiropractor goes, "I think: subluxation!"


The two women passed each other on the beach, as they had for so many years, and stopped to chat. The one walking the tiny white dog spoke first.

"Hey. Have you seen the couple from the ninth floor?"

"The gringos that always hold hands?" the other asked. "No, now that you mention it, it's been a few weeks."

"Me either." The woman looked towards the little dog at her side. "Little Frieda here just adores the wife."

"Well, have a great day!"

The women waved and moved apart.

Neither noticed the tear that fell from the little dog's eye.

1 comment:

The Scurvy Dog of PR said...

Most poetic...