Their suits were mostly black, but Kerry’s had purple shoulders and arms, and a flash of bright orange down each side.
Dar’s, in addition to being older and more broken in, had a soberly gray yoke with dark blue piping around her neck.
They reached deeper water and Kerry took the opportunity to duck under the waves, letting the ocean’s cool penetrate her suit and cool her off. She stayed like that for a moment, then emerged, shaking her hair out of her eyes and spraying water across the crystal green, shimmering surface.
“Be careful.” Dar gave her a pat on the behind, as she moved away a little and prepared to get on her board.
“Yes, Mom.” Kerry splashed her. “You be careful, too. Don’t fall on a jellyfish like last time.”
Dar stuck out her tongue, then boosted herself up onto her windboard and got her feet set into the pockets, before she reached down and raised the sail. The wind caught the nylon at once and filled it with a fluttering rustle. “Last one down the beach has to buy the beer,” she yelled back.
“You skunk!” Kerry scrambled up onto her board, catching her balance carefully before she attempted to pull up the hinged sail.
That was the toughest part, really. Once it was up, you could use your weight to keep it up, but pulling it against the drag of the sea and the wind made Kerry really glad she’d spent the extra time in the gym recently. “When I catch you, you’re sunk! Hear me!!”
Dar’s laughter floated back.
“You laugh now, Dixiecup.” Kerry felt the wind fill her sail, and the water started to slide by under her. “If I win, you’re gonna owe me a lot more than beer!”
THE BEACH BAR was an open, tiki type structure, with a bar top made of a slice of wood taken right out of the heart of some native tree. Dar and Kerry entered from the beach side and settled on stools next to each other in the moderately busy place.
The bartender leaned on the other side of the bar from them.
“Can I get something for you?”
114 Melissa Good Dar paused in the midst of unzipping her wetsuit. “Get the lady a nice, cold beer.” She indicated her companion. “Pina colada for me,” she added. “Since I’m buying.”
“Heh.” Kerry smirked. She pulled down the zipper on her wetsuit and peeled off the upper part, letting it drape down over her lower body. They were both wind and sunburned, and lightly dusted with sand collected on the walk up from the beach. Kerry rested her arms on the bar and reveled in the sensation of being a true beach rat, if only for a moment. “If you have anything amber on draft, that would be great,” she told the bartender.
“Gotcha.” The boy grinned at her and turned back to the taps.
Dar pulled down her wetsuit and adjusted the strap on the swimsuit she was wearing underneath. “I shoulda known I didn’t have a chance if there was beer in the deal.” She ran both hands through her damp hair and grinned. “What was that hopping about, anyway?”
Kerry stretched out her arms, feeling a pleasant ache in her shoulders. “I thought I saw a dolphin,” she confessed with a chuckle. “I didn’t want to hit it. Felt like I was on a bucking horse for a minute there, though.”
“Ahh.” Dar glanced up at the menu. “You up for a burger?”
Kerry heard her stomach growl at the mere suggestion. It was late afternoon, and breakfast seemed a very long time ago. “Sure.”
She grinned at the frosty mug the bartender plunked down in front of her and tugged it closer, then took a sip. It was nutty and very cold, and she sighed happily as Dar ordered them both lunch.
“What a great day.”
Dar was busy chewing the pineapple from her drink. She swallowed and turned toward Kerry. “That was a lot of fun,” she admitted. “I can see why you want one of the motorized ones.”
“Oh, yeah!” Kerry sat up and mimed holding the control rod.
“Vroom! Vroom!”
“Wild woman.” Dar offered her the cherry from her drink.
“Here.”
Kerry took the fruit neatly between her teeth and plucked it from its stem. “No fair.” She sucked the cherry and rolled it around in her mouth. “I don’t have one to give you.”
Dar’s eyes twinkled wickedly, and Kerry realized what she’d just said. She chewed and swallowed the cherry, then stuck her now reddish-colored tongue out at Dar. “Of course, you’ve always had mine anyway.”
“Ahem.” Dar cleared her throat slightly, glancing around as her skin turned a fraction of a shade darker.
Kerry lowered her voice, smothered a chuckle. “Oh, Lord.
Don’t tell me I just made you blush.”
“I’m not blushing.” Dar reassembled her dignity. “It’s Terrors of the High Seas 115
sunburn.”
“Uh huh.” Kerry snickered. “I see that blush.”
“It’s not a blush.”
“Heh.”
Dar rested her elbow on the bar and half turned on her stool, assuming a seductive look as her eyes slowly, lazily made their way from the tips of Kerry’s toes up to her top of her blonde head. By the time she hit Kerry’s chest, it was bright pink.
“Now that,” Dar met her eyes, lengthening the words out to a Southern drawl, “is a blush.” She reached over and put her finger on Kerry’s nose, which wrinkled as her lover couldn’t prevent herself from smiling.
“You’re such a troublemaker,” Kerry sighed.
“You started it.” Dar turned around and took another sip of her drink as they watched their pasteurized, processed milk product and half pound of chopped animal protein become a pair of nicely cooked cheeseburgers, accompanied by something called island fries. Dar inspected one and found it to be a French fry with a coating of spices and coconut. “Mm.”
Kerry centered a slice of tomato on the top of her burger and placed lettuce over that, then dabbed some ketchup and mayonnaise on the bun before she replaced it. She was about to pick it up and take a bite when motion caught her attention from the corner of her eye. “Uh oh.” She nudged Dar in the ribs.
Dar looked up, pausing in mid-munch as she spotted the small group of people walking across from the docks. Three women and two men, their clothing in some disarray, were being escorted by two policemen. They seemed very agitated, and one of the men had his arm around one of the women in a protective attitude. “Huh.
Wonder what that’s all about?”
The bartender nudged one of the waitresses, who had just come to pick up a bar order. “Another one?”
“Yeah.” The girl shook her head. “Crazy pirates. Devils, I think.” She picked up her tray and walked off.
Kerry leaned forward, projecting her voice. “Pirates?”
The bartender jumped a little, then turned. “Oh, it’s nothing, ma’am. We were just—”
“Just not wanting to scare us, yes, but what about the pirates?”
Kerry interrupted.
He looked like he’d been caught in headlights that rarely appeared on St. Johns. “Ma’am…” His eyes shifted around, but most of the patrons were eating at tables; Dar and Kerry were the only ones on that side of the bar. With a second careful look, he sidled over. “We’re not supposed to talk about it,” he explained.
“Sure,” Dar said. “You don’t want to scare off the tourists.”
“Yeah.” The boy grinned. “Glad you understand.”
116 Melissa Good
“We’re not tourists,” Kerry smiled at him, “so don’t worry about it. Tell us about the pirates.”
Reassured, the bartender leaned on his elbow near them. “Been six hijackings this month,” he told them. “Boats comin’ in, they get pulled over by these guys, and whap. No more boat, no credit cards, no cash; you name it.”