We finally arrived at the Hotel.
We had left our apartments early in the morning, raced to the airport foolishly thinking that the flight would leave on time. There were delays on top of delays and finally we boarded. It was one of those torturous flights which makes people hate flying.
Due to the delay, the plane we would take to Jamaica had long since left, and we were stuck at the airport in Miami. Miami, the worst airport in the world.
As they weren't putting on an extra flight for nobodies like us, we had to be apportioned and crammed into whatever seats were empty on the next two planes. I'm sure a a number of people canceled.
We would have canceled as soon as we heard there was a delay and booked something else, if we could. But we couldn't. We had paid for one of those all inclusive packages, where everything was connected, paid in advance and non-refundable.
It was six of us, and had to stay six. If anyone dropped out, we had to get another warm body, for it was one of those fantastic offers which may be light in pocket but heavy in blood.
It was me, Kendra, Ashley, Lindsey, Paige and Molly, on our way to the Caribbean! Oh how great, we thought.
We'd planned, we'd paid, we raced to JFK anxious to board that 2nd rate plane . Once we survived, we were dumped in Miami until we could be crammed aboard another 2nd (or was it 3rd) rate flight.
When we finally arrived in Montego Bay we had to call the Hotel to resend the bus, and wait another hour. Instead of arriving ready at two p.m., we were semi conscious when we dragged in close to nine, hungry and tired.
We tossed our things in our room and came down to eat. As I was moving to the dining area I heard someone playing a guitar. It was magical.
I left my friends and moved to see who it was, assuming some famous guitarist.
I came onto a patio. It was dark and I couldn't see the edges. My eyes were captured by the man at the front, his back to the sea, playing a guitar.
There were a few dim lights around him and he wore a stiff white shirt which molded to his body. His hair was very black, and his face turned intensely to the strings. I stood in awe, seeing only that man, fascinated, amazed. I don't know if I breathed until he completed the tune. There was a touch of silence then cheering. I realised there were dozens of tables on that patio, packed with people.
He glanced up a moment. His face was sharp and to me, beautiful. He nodded at the audience. Someone shouted out the name of a song, others joined. He made a slight smile, a nod, and began to play it.
I couldn't breathe.
Kendra grabbed me, “C'mon Sammie....”
“Wait...” I said.
“We're all eating...”
“Shhh...” I said, listening to the music.
She stood a moment, then went wherever and I stayed on the veranda until he finished playing. The audience cheered as he rose so elegantly, put down the guitar, nodded, turned his back, walked towards the sea, and disappeared from my view.
I stood transfixed for he had been amazing. Now he was gone, the music was gone. I was tired and hungry so went and found the restaurant. My friends had virtually finished, but sat with me as I ate.
All I could think of was that magnificent man who played the guitar.
After eating and sharing a few words, we staggered to our rooms. I shared with Ashley. I was so tired that outside of giving my face a quick wash, and a brief brush of my teeth, I stripped and fell into bed.
And dreamed of that man on the veranda who made the guitar talk.