By Maryanna Gabriel
We docked. I eagerly followed her up the path to the house. She was retired and having trouble making ends meet. I would need to volunteer to ingratiate myself with the community, she said, then looking me over more closely added, "Maybe not the fire department". Had I imagined it or had the rental price just gone up.
My heart sank. The internet could not play a movie, I was told, sketchy at best. There was to be no lock on the door for she needed to access to the washer. My eyes swept over the tasteless decor, the map hiding a hole in the wall, the uncomfortable dated furniture, and stared outwards. As pictured in the ad at least. Maybe it would be enough. Outside, we walked a forested path. My route for supplies would have to be the dock further along, I was informed, quite a hike with a wheelbarrow. I began to hesitate. Oh. And the water taxi was no longer in business - it had sold. Did I think I could buy a boat? She knew of one for sale. I shook my head.
When I understood how heavily populated the island was the situation finally sank in. No escape on land or sea then, Basically, I would be trapped. It would be a beautiful prison; this would never do.
Trying to smile my way to the end, the romance was wearing off. She in her turn, had gauged my responses and also cooled. It was clear to both of us that we were wasting each other's time. Still, it took coming home and thinking about it before I sent off my email and simply stated, no thank you, and that I needed more independence.
Her answer? A wise decision. Indeed. So much indeed for Maryanna's island adventure. But wait. There's more...