Spring Break

We went to the Thai place off East Main for the last time on a Wednesday evening. Ruby likes going to karaoke at this bar down by the wharf and they start at 8pm, so we had to meet by six. Didn’t they used to start at nine? They did, but people seem to like it, so they’re starting earlier, but finishing earlier too. Although, if you tip the girl, or, I should say, if enough people tip the girl, she’ll usually do another hour. Oh, that’s nice. We were the only people in the restaurant other than some Mormons a few booths up from us.

I didn’t know Mormons could eat Thai food? Why not? Can’t they, or aren’t they, not allowed to eat spicy food? You’re thinking of caffeine. They can’t have caffeine. No, that’s Jehovah’s witnesses. No, they can’t dance. No, you’re thinking of the Amish. The Amish dance. They dance in the barn after they build it. Do the Amish drink coffee? They must. Imagine trying to build a barn without any coffee.

Ruby told me about her neighbor, Beverly, who is insisting that a small square of land is actually on her property line. She wants to reclaim it from Ruby, and Ruby is fighting her on it. Beverly and Ruby always got along, but this small matter seemed to derail their camaraderie. Beverly is mad, because she says she’s been paying taxes on that square. How much could a square possibly cost? I told her I’d give her twenty bucks a year to drop the whole thing, but she wouldn’t hear of it. What did you get again? I got the chili fish. The chili fish? Is that spicy? Now, don’t start that again. What do you think the Mormons are eating? I think they got rice. That’s it? Just rice? Rice can be very filling. Don’t Mormons walk everywhere? They’re going to need more than rice.

I’d started walking everywhere, myself. It seemed to be a side effect of getting older. Suddenly I wanted to be out in the world as much as possible. My son had mentioned my seventy-eighth birthday to me on the phone several days earlier, and he asked what my plan was for when I could no longer live alone. I told him that when that day came, I’d drive my car down to Surfer’s End and walk into the ocean. He didn’t like that very much. Who would? It’s better than being put in a home. Maybe if I’m lucky some handsome surfer will hit me in the head with his surfboard and I’ll sink down to the bottom. That poor surfer. He’ll feel so guilty. Surfers can be girls now, you know. Oh, I know. They’re letting everybody do everything these days. Don’t go sounding like a sexist. It’s not sexist to say everybody gets to do everything. It’s just being observant. How much rice do you think the Mormons are eating? I don’t know and I refuse to look.

The plan was to walk back home the same way I’d walked to the restaurant. Our town wasn’t much for sidewalks, but there weren’t many cars on the road during Spring Break. The weather wasn’t warm enough to coax college students to come visit, and the tourists wouldn’t show up for another three months. The University on the island was deserted, and that meant, in some ways, this was as quiet as the place would get. Ruby told me that tonight, if karaoke was deader than normal, she might be able to sing some of the songs off her “bucket list.” I always want to do “Paradise by the Dashboard Light,” but I never do. Why not? Well, it’s so long. It would be rude to do a song that long when people are waiting for their turn. But you should be able to do whatever you want with your turn. There’s still an etiquette to these things. You can’t just go singing ten-minute songs. Besides, I’m too old for that. I don’t have the stamina for it. You need to start walking more. It’s good for you. Oh yeah, I’ll do what you do and walk all over the island. You better be careful if you go walking at night. You think I’m going to get mugged? I think you’re going to get hit by a car. I have my reflective vest. I know. You look like a crossing guard. Don’t they have anything more stylish? No, I don’t think crossing guards are worried about fashion, Ruby.

That night, at karaoke, when nobody showed up for the first hour, Ruby got to sing “Paradise by the Dashboard Light.” The bartender came around and did the play-by-play section with her, and even though nobody was there to hear it, she felt like a rock star. Two days later, she passed away in her sleep. Her daughter called to give me the news. I know you two were close. I’m so sorry. Will there be a service? Probably something small. Just family. Of course, you’re welcome to--No, that’s all right. I don’t want to intrude. You wouldn’t be--I’ll donate to a cause or charity. Just let me know which one you think she’d--Well, wow, you’d probably know better than me which one she’d want you to--You’re right. I’ll find something. Thank you again for calling, and I’m sorry again for your loss. And, uh, again, uh. Yes. Yes. Again.

I don’t know why I kept saying “again.” I left my house and walked down to Surfer’s End. It was late March and the sun wouldn’t set until nearly seven. Everyone was so excited to have sunshine in the evening. I found a tin of mints in my purse and I popped one in my mouth. The left side of the beach was nearly empty aside from a woman walking a small dog. To my right, there were two men in white, button-down shirts and black pants rolling up their legs so they could go walking into the water. Were these the Mormons from that night at the restaurant? Are Mormons allowed to go in the ocean? Why wouldn’t they be? I don’t know. I don’t know what people are allowed to do these days. It feels like everybody is allowed to do everything.

Ruby was right. Everybody was allowed. Everyone was welcome. There were places in the world you could go to once and never again and no one would be the wiser. I popped another mint in my mouth and stood up from the sand to go join the Mormons. I didn’t know if they were allowed to wade in the water with old ladies, but I didn’t see the harm in finding out.