Read Online Vacation Therapy by Lance Zarimba - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lance Zarimba
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go through orientation to survive here? What do they think we're doing? Going to college?” He rolled over onto his stomach and pulled his beach towel over his head.
"Don't we have to attend this thing?” I asked.
Logan continued writing in his notebook, and Tom appeared to be sleeping through the commotion.
Shrugging my shoulders and not expecting any answers, I swung my legs over the side of my chair and stood up.
Sergio peered out from under his towel. “If you're going to go and play freshman, can you bring me back a cold water?"
"Sure."
"And don't forget your sandals.” He pulled the towel back over his head and settled down into his lounger.
"Yes, Mother,” I said with a wrinkled nose.
"Suit yourself,” Sergio said from under his haven.
Ignoring him, I passed under the umbrella and took two steps onto the sand. The white, hot, burning sand. The shock didn't register at first. I took a few more steps and then it felt like I had stepped into a scalding bathtub. But here, there wasn't any bathmat to escape to, just more hot sand, yards and yards of it. The cabana seemed to pull away from me, and from where I stood, it was too far away to go forward, but I'd be damned if I'd go back and let Sergio know he was right.
Glancing ahead, I jumped onto a vacant towel laid out by a sun worshiper. I leap-frogged across towels to the small pool at the base of the steps that entered the cabana.
A sign read, “Wash your feet before entering Cabana.” Steam came off my feet as I soaked. Just what I needed, a third-degree burn on the soles of my feet.
"Hot one, isn't it?” an elderly man in sandals and a gaudy shirt asked as he ascended the stairs.
I smiled tightly and just nodded. “Hot."
"You should really wear your sandals, or you're going to burn your feet."
I saluted him. “Thanks for the tip, I'll remember that for my return trip.” You had better believe it.
I tested the temperature of the wooden stairs. They were warm to my wet feet, but not hot enough to burn the remaining skin off.
Mike's voice continued to call everyone over. “Don't be shy, you're on vacation. Hopefully, you'll all get to meet each other and have a wonderful time."
I rounded the corner of the building and entered the pool area, just as Mike held up a beach towel. “This is our official Club Fred beach towel. This is a wonderful souvenir to remember your trip.” The towel had a picture of a male model emerging from the surf in a wet T-shirt and a Speedo, tossing his long hair back out of his face in a graceful arc.
I could just see my redneck neighbor's look with that beach towel hanging on my clothesline.
"We have T-shirts, sun visors, sunglasses, sunscreen, anything that you may have forgotten at home. You can purchase any of these items here, and for your convenience, all you need to do is tell us your room number, and we'll charge it to your room. This will save you having to carry your wallet and worrying about losing your money or credit card on the beach."
Mike handed the microphone over to John, who flipped his long hair back, just like he did on the towel. “Hi, I'm John, and I'm in charge of all the excursions. We have a few trips planned. There is a jungle cruise right here at the resort. All you have to do is take the shuttle to the dock and a boat will take you through a mangrove swamp. You'll be able to see the lush vegetation of the tropical jungle, just like on the Discovery channel, but live.” He held up a pamphlet. “And the best thing about it is, it's free!"
The crowd cheered.
"We also have a whole range of great trips lined up for you for just a small extra charge."
Boos emanated from the crowd.
"The other trips are cheap. Trust me. We have a trip scheduled to the flea market and mall. There is one to a banana plantation, and there will be a sunset cruise also. Very romantic, if that's what you're looking for.” He paused for effect. “And best for last, a snorkeling trip to Seal Island. This is
"Don't we have to attend this thing?” I asked.
Logan continued writing in his notebook, and Tom appeared to be sleeping through the commotion.
Shrugging my shoulders and not expecting any answers, I swung my legs over the side of my chair and stood up.
Sergio peered out from under his towel. “If you're going to go and play freshman, can you bring me back a cold water?"
"Sure."
"And don't forget your sandals.” He pulled the towel back over his head and settled down into his lounger.
"Yes, Mother,” I said with a wrinkled nose.
"Suit yourself,” Sergio said from under his haven.
Ignoring him, I passed under the umbrella and took two steps onto the sand. The white, hot, burning sand. The shock didn't register at first. I took a few more steps and then it felt like I had stepped into a scalding bathtub. But here, there wasn't any bathmat to escape to, just more hot sand, yards and yards of it. The cabana seemed to pull away from me, and from where I stood, it was too far away to go forward, but I'd be damned if I'd go back and let Sergio know he was right.
Glancing ahead, I jumped onto a vacant towel laid out by a sun worshiper. I leap-frogged across towels to the small pool at the base of the steps that entered the cabana.
A sign read, “Wash your feet before entering Cabana.” Steam came off my feet as I soaked. Just what I needed, a third-degree burn on the soles of my feet.
"Hot one, isn't it?” an elderly man in sandals and a gaudy shirt asked as he ascended the stairs.
I smiled tightly and just nodded. “Hot."
"You should really wear your sandals, or you're going to burn your feet."
I saluted him. “Thanks for the tip, I'll remember that for my return trip.” You had better believe it.
I tested the temperature of the wooden stairs. They were warm to my wet feet, but not hot enough to burn the remaining skin off.
Mike's voice continued to call everyone over. “Don't be shy, you're on vacation. Hopefully, you'll all get to meet each other and have a wonderful time."
I rounded the corner of the building and entered the pool area, just as Mike held up a beach towel. “This is our official Club Fred beach towel. This is a wonderful souvenir to remember your trip.” The towel had a picture of a male model emerging from the surf in a wet T-shirt and a Speedo, tossing his long hair back out of his face in a graceful arc.
I could just see my redneck neighbor's look with that beach towel hanging on my clothesline.
"We have T-shirts, sun visors, sunglasses, sunscreen, anything that you may have forgotten at home. You can purchase any of these items here, and for your convenience, all you need to do is tell us your room number, and we'll charge it to your room. This will save you having to carry your wallet and worrying about losing your money or credit card on the beach."
Mike handed the microphone over to John, who flipped his long hair back, just like he did on the towel. “Hi, I'm John, and I'm in charge of all the excursions. We have a few trips planned. There is a jungle cruise right here at the resort. All you have to do is take the shuttle to the dock and a boat will take you through a mangrove swamp. You'll be able to see the lush vegetation of the tropical jungle, just like on the Discovery channel, but live.” He held up a pamphlet. “And the best thing about it is, it's free!"
The crowd cheered.
"We also have a whole range of great trips lined up for you for just a small extra charge."
Boos emanated from the crowd.
"The other trips are cheap. Trust me. We have a trip scheduled to the flea market and mall. There is one to a banana plantation, and there will be a sunset cruise also. Very romantic, if that's what you're looking for.” He paused for effect. “And best for last, a snorkeling trip to Seal Island. This is
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