GGS: Good Gaelic Souls A Biker Saga (G.G.S) (6 page)

Opening the curtains so that she could see the ocean, she looked to see what time it was. The little digital clock on the bed table between the beds, read 4:59 p.m. "Happy Hour" she thought, and grabbed her brush, headeding back to the bathroom. Maybe she would run into someone she knew and enjoy some idle chatter. She brushed out her hair, slipped on her sandles and walked down to the motel bar.

As she sat down, she asked the bartender for a large plastic cup and instructed her on how to make a whiskeypop. Paying for her refreshment, she left a generous tip and turned to scan the the room. "Bloody hell," she thought, "Everybody's a fucking tourist." It wasn't hard to tell. They all wore bright hawiaan style shirts and bermuda shorts. Worse still, was the solid white  clothing or some fug-ugly floral nightmare. "Fuck me," she thought, as a middle-aged man came towards her. "I am so not in the mood for this." He approached her with a smile and the inevitable, "What brings you here, pretty lady" ice-breaker. "Death." Retorted Stax without smiling. She picked up her drink, leaving him standing there shell shocked, as she took her heavy heart and walked out the door.

Stax headed for the beach, she needed to think. Walking past the pool, making her way down the wooden steps and onto the sand, she walked straight out into the water. As the ocean hugged her lower body, she held her drink up, out of reach of the waves that were lapping at her ass, and she began to sing. To her, it was as close to praying that she would ever get. It was her gift to nature, and since she had a good singing voice, she wasn't at all intimated by anyone hearing her ritual. Frankly, she didn't give a shit what people thought of her, she never had. She could feel the power of the ocean rocking her as she sang. When she felt something brush her leg, she didn't flinch, she sang, as she watched the sun lowering itself towards the horizon, she sang.

She felt that the world itself must have a since of humour, and that the words of this song would never be lost on her ocean mother. In fact, there were many times through the years, that Stax had recieved a special gift after she sang to her. Once, right after she had finished her song, she looked down at her feet and the waves had floated a perfectly shaped Sand-Dollar to her feet, the water quickly receded, leaving it there just for her. Another time, she had finished her song and began a short walk along the shore, and approximately ten feet from where she had stood singing, lay a perfect piece of driftwood. She imagined it was from an island, carried up by a recent storm. It was beautiful, covered with black and bright orange muscles, and so water-logged that if Serenity hadn't been with her that day to help, she would never had been able to get it back to her room.  It was meant for her, she felt it in her soul. Several other times this 'gifting' had occured and she felt a spiritual bond between her and the ocean, that could not be broken by time or space. No matter how far or how long she was away from the shore, the ocean was with her, silently calling her home.

Finishing her song, Stax picked up a handful of water, placed a light loving kiss on it's surface and respectfully placed it back from whence it came. With salty lips she sipped at the melted ice in her cup, and stood there quietly, thrilling at the sensation of the undulating water around her legs and the pull of the moving sand beneath her sinking feet. This was her heaven and her home, it fed her very soul.

All of a sudden she could hear her father's voice, "
You can do this lass
" as if he was standing there with her.  Looking out at the white caps in an almost hypnotic trance, Stax realized that tears were rolling down her face. She allowed her salty tears to mix with the water beneath her, making them one in the same. She knew what she had to do, she had to complete his dream. She must put her all and everything into bringing it to fruition, putting this first and foremost above all things. This would be her future and her father's legacy. Even after the sun had met and then slid slowly below the horizon, she stood their quietly grieving.

Finally, she looked around and noticed that the moon was shining on the water. The beach was empty and she was cold, it was time for her to go inside. With a slightly lighter heart, she entered the room, looked around at the emptiness and went straight to the shower. Afterwards, realizing that she had forgotten to cover herself with SPF, she picked up the complemetary lotion and slathered it over her pink skin. She had been out in the sun several times that day, "This is gonna hurt." She thought. Naked, she walked into the bedroom, lit a joint and fixed a drink, jotting down a mental note that the bottle was now empty. "Whiskey for the burn and weed to help me sleep." She reasoned, as if she ever needed a reason for either. Come morning, it would be time to come to grips with her new reality and force herself to carry on. She wasn't quite sure that she was ready.

Chapter 4

"A day at the Beach"

Stax awoke to a loud knocking and the word "Housekeeping!" being shouted through the door. Startled and naked, she yelled "Hold the fuck on!" and went to the bathroom to grab a towel. "Come in." She said loudly, as she opened the curtains, bathing the room in the light of the morning sun. Sitting down at the table, she lit a cigarette and popped open a warm can of soda as the hispanic housekeeper walked in. Her cart in the hall near the doorway, and a vacuum cleaner in her hand, she nodded but said nothing. "Good Morning," Stax greeted her, "If you will take care of the beds and the bathroom, I will clean up our mess."she offered. "Si" responded the housekeeper as she immediately began stripping the beds. Stax looked down at her now red skin and realized that she had to do something quick or she might blister. She didn't want to put clothes on and walk down to the drug store several blocks away and it would be much later before the guys arrived this evening. "Does the giftshop carry an Aloe spray or lotion?" she asked hopefully. "Si" again was the reply, this time from the bathroom where the maid was now working swiftly and quietly. She decided to put on her bathing suit top and wrap the towel around her, so that it looked like she had something on to head down to the gift shop.

As she put out her cigarette, she had another thought. When the maid came out of the bathroom, she waved a twenty dollar bill in the air and asked her if she would mind going to get it and she could keep the change. The maid reached out and took the twenty without blinking and stepped out into the hallway. Stax could hear a few quickly spoken words of fluent Spanish, and saw the maid tuck a cell phone in her pocket as she walked back in with fresh linen and fresh trash bags in her hand. "Uno momento." she said, before she took the trash out to her cart.

By the time the maid had replaced the trash bags, put fresh sheets and covers on one of the beds and was moving over to the second one, a little dark haired, dark eyed girl walked into the room. She might have been about 7 years old and she was holding a spray can of Aloe Vera in her hand. She smiled at Stax, wincing when she saw her sunburned skin. Quickly she handed her the can. "Gra-cee-us." Stax told her with a smile, thankful that she knew at least a few basic words of Spanish.

Stax walked into the bathroom, threw her used towel out the door for the maid to gather, and sprayed herself generously with the Aloe anesthetic. Looking in the mirror, she realized it wasn't quite as bad as she first thought. Red, but not lobster red. With the aloe and enough sense to stay in the shade for the rest of her stay, she would be fine. A little painful, but fine. "Good thing it was close to sundown before I went out the last time." she thought. "I've rode this pony before. I may have to deal with a little peeling, but what the fuck, it could have been much worse." She pulled her bathing suit top down from the shower curtain rod, wincing as it rubbed across her sunburned skin.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she saw that the maid, who had already completed her part of the bargain, had placed a large empty trash bag over the back of the chair for her use. Still half naked, she picked up the empty pizza box, beer and soda cans, cigarette packs, and whiskey bottle. She finished the clean up by emptying out the two small ashtrays and tying up the bags. Placing the trash in the hallway for housekeeping to dispose of, and quickly shut the door. "Done," she thought to herself, "better finish dressing before I forget and head out for breakfast."

Looking through the drawers a little more carefully this time, she found a no strap, terry cloth sun wrap that had been placed in the bottom drawer by itself. Pulling off the price tag, she was astounded that the guys had thought of something like this. Apparently, while she had been sleeping, they had been planning. She slipped on her bathing suit bottom, wrapped herself in terrycloth, and slipped on the pair of new toeless sandles that were in a box on the dresser. Grabbing her cash, she shoved the bills into her bathing suit top and headed out the door. Here at the beach she fit right in.

The street was busy, so she walked up a block to the intersection, waited for the 'Walk' light to appear and crossed over to the side where the resturaunt was located. As she was being seated, she could tell that she was about to be planted in the same station, with the same server that Samson had offended the day before. Not wanting to interact with a negative attitude, Stax requested that she be seated 'street side' and the hostess kindly obliged.

She declined the Breakfast Bar and the menu, asking only for a bowl of cheese grits, coffee and orange juice.  Any other Sunday, she would have had a traditional Irish breakfast with her father at home or maybe at one of the Officer's house. Later after a ride, they would stop at a market or roadside stand, and buy a mess of catfish or whiting and head home to have a backyard fish fry. He would roll out a keg and fry up the fish, hushpuppies and mushrooms. While she would make a big pot of cheese grits and some coleslaw. It was rare for it to be just the two of them on Sunday afternoons, most times family would stop in for a visit. She always liked it when Della arrived, she  always brought her famous homemade Key Lime pies. A wave of despair swept over her, as she realized that Sunday was forever changed. Even if she carried on the tradition, it would never be the same.

Deep in thought she finished her meal, and sat there staring out the window, watching the people going about their Florida vacations, while she drank coffee and mourned. Feeling the lump swelling up in her throat, she reflected on where she was right now, emotionally. Did she feel like crying again? "Of course." she thought to herself, she was human and her heart was broken. Was she going to cry again now? "Absolutely not!" She silently answered her inner question, holding back the tears. "That time has passed, and I will continue to feel the loss and grieve for as long as I draw breath. But it's time to suck it up, before I lose my grip on my inner strength and succumb to being a victim for the rest of my life." She had no idea how quickly her resolution would be tested.

Acting on the subliminal thought placed into her head by Samson before he left, she paid her bill, left a tip on the table and walked towards the nearest Shell shop on the strip. Upon her entrance, the store owner recognized her immediately and motioned her towards the counter. "Good Morning Ms. Stax," He greeted her, in his slow southern drawl. She always found it amusing how some southerners sounded so much more southern than others. "What is it that I can help you with today?" He asked politely, silently wondering why he hadn't heard her bike pull up. He had of habit of checking his teeth in the mirror every time he heard a bike pull in. Heaven forbid, she should catch him with something stuck in his teeth, he would be mortified!

She smiled at his eagerness to please her, thinking that he was probably just happy to see anybody that wasn't a fucking tourist.  Still smiling, she replied, "I'm looking for a new pair of earrings Rex. Something special, something me." He smiled knowingly and held up a finger as if to say "one moment please" as he bent down to open the bottom drawer of the glass case that seperated him from his customers. Rex not only had a suprise for her, he also had a secret.

Rex didn't think of Stax as a customer. To him she was not only a 'special client', but a long time accquaintence and secretly he hoped, a friend. She had been coming into his shop for many years, and he enjoyed catering to her unique request for earrings. He was always on the lookout for pieces that he knew she would appreciate and wear often. She wasn't the kind of person to buy something on a whim and place it in a drawer to be forgotten. No, she would wear it with meaning or not wear it at all. She only wore rings and earrings, she wouldn't tolerate anything around her neck, wrist or ankles. She had confided to him that she had an enert dislike for most jewelry like toe rings, nose rings and the like. He admired the way she thought and her unique style. He adored her as a person as much as well as her idividuality. He had learned much from their conversations over the years, and he knew a good deal about her, or at least as much as one can from such limited encounters.

He felt that she was absolutely beautiful, and he would admit only to himself that he had a 'schoolboy crush' on her. Creamy white skin with a hint of freckles, long wispy spirals of auburn hair, and a heart stopping smile. But it was her eyes that had unknowingly seduced him. From the very first day he had spoken to her, he had been mesmerized by her big beautiful eyes, with their perfectly arched brows. When she was happy and laughing they would turn such a bright blazing green, that the word 'enchanting' would pop into his mind each time that he was fortunate enought to witness it. It was as if her very soul was illuminated and was trying to see deep into his own.

She didn't always come here alone, and he enjoyed watching her interact with her family when one or several would accompany her. They could be funny one minute, snippy the next, down right vulgar at times, but always, he thought to himself, always you could see the love. You could feel the respect, and see that they wore their loyalty on the outside, like a badge. He especially liked the young biker, Samson. Rex had enjoyed many knowledge filled conversations with Samson, mostly about sea life or archeology and he always looked forward to seeing him walk in with Stax. That big man of hers though, Strangler, that one always gave him angst. It was like he could read Rex's inner feeling's and it made him uncomfortable everytime he walked into the shop.