Dark Dig - Arrival

The Arrival

Much to the surprise of all on board, Swiss Air Flight # 1830 touched down in Athens International Airport at 1:20 PM, 5 minutes early. Quickly, the excitement died as the 747 lumbered along an endless trail of taxiways enroot to the terminal. Carol sat impatiently peering out the porthole - window.

Carol envied people who were able to sleep during the flight, but her level of excitement prevented the luxury of sleep. For Carol, it was the last leg of a journey, started the day before at JFK Airport, enroot to Dulles International Airport, then on to Switzerland, and finally to Athens. There may have been more direct flights, but none of them fit her tight budget.

As soon as the plane snuggled up to the gate all the passengers jumped up and scrambled to retrieve their bags, stowed under the seats, or in the overhead compartments. Only to stand frozen in their tracks while the ground crew moved the concourse tunnel to connect the plan to the terminal.

Impatiently the sardines stewed, waiting until the door was finally opened. In a relatively orderly fashion, the passengers zippered out of their assigned seats and moved down the tight isle. With minimal pushing and shoving, they filed into the main corridors leading to the exit. Shuffling down the eternally long isle, Carol was eager to get out of the stuffy confines of the 747.

Carol fought to focus on what she had to do. Eager to get out of the oversized sardine can, Carol paused briefly at the cabin door to take a deep breath. The warm breeze, blowing through the gap between the plane and the corridor, smelled of JP40.

With the briefest hesitation, she carefully stepped over the small platform, bridging the gap between the 747 and the long corridor. Pushing forward joining the crowd in the tunnel, her mind filled with images of first steps, new beginnings, and a new life.

Hurriedly, she pressed past the slower passengers in her rush to retrieve her baggage. Her feet seemed to have wings, flying her along the endless corridors to meet Marcus. A bright red blush spread rapidly over her cheeks, accompanied by a bright smile.

She always blushed, when thoughts of Marcus flashed into her conscious thoughts. “Yes, the adventure begins”, was a chant echoing in her brain.

“I just spent almost an entire day, counting the stopover in Geneva, packed in an oversized sardine can with all these people, and I don’t know anything about them. Is this some omen of the way our society has lost sight of humanity? Are we all just passengers traveling along the space-time continuum, totally unaware of our fellow passengers?” she mused, with a wide smile spread across her face making her appear just like all the other strangers, scrambling to reach their destination.

She thought it was strange that her mind pondered such philosophical topics at this particular moment. Brushing the random thoughts from her mind she hurried along the corridor to the baggage claim area. Soon all of her thoughts focused on Marcus.

She was now aware, more than ever, of her emotional commitment to him even though he never made any outward advance toward her. When she told him she wanted to volunteer to work on the dig over the summer, he did seem to be very happy. Yet, his enthusiasm was not indicative of anything more than he showed to the others who felt compelled to volunteer.

Carol feared that in her rush to make Marcus notice her she may have overstepped some critical boundary of professional interaction. She took the precaution of changing her classes so Marcus would no longer be her professor.

After that, it took her over a month to convince Marcus it was his idea to take her to his room. At the time, she felt there was something special, but then she was just a young girl from a hick town, and he was a college professor.

Maybe she was just one of many girls, just another notch, on the gun, celebrating his masculinity. These thoughts plagued her and cast a shadow over her mood. With a deep sigh, she resolved to forge on and hope Marcus would take special note of her.

Lost in the crowd of mid-morning arrivals, to Athens International Airport, Carol pressed forward. She sped along with the stampede of passengers, rushing toward the baggage claim area. The anticipation of seeing Marcus put wings on her feet.

She saw Marcus as something like a Greek God, or at least a half God, maybe the statue of Eros, awakened from his eternal sleep, to roam among the mortals seeking earthly pleasures. His handsome face and charming smile made her get weak in the knees.

Carol thought it was his eyes that she found most attractive. Unlike most men, who were never able to get their gaze north of her breasts, Marcus looked directly into her eyes. From the first eye contact, Carol felt he had some mystical, magical power to peer deep into her soul. Carol blushed at the thought of this “Stranger” seeing her unbridled passion, buried deep behind the carefully crafted facade of socially acceptable behavior.

BING BONG BING, - “Passenger Carol Dunmore, please contact the Information Desk,” sang the Airport PA System in a pleasant female voice.

The noise of 400 + people, in the crowded area surrounding the baggage carousel, made it hard to understand, the message as it repeated three times. Carol’s attention was focused on retrieving her bags, so she did not respond to the page. Eventually, Carol gathered all her bags and stacked them on a handcart. Again, she followed the stream of zombies staggering toward the customs inspection. A few minutes later the PA system chimed again, repeating the message, but the customs inspection area was even noisier than the baggage claim area, preventing her from hearing the page. After what seemed multiple eternities, waiting in the long line at the customs inspection, Carol handed her passport to the agent seated behind a bulletproof window.

She fought to restrain a smirk. The agent looked like a combination of all the bad stereotypes one could imagine. He was overweight. His uniform shirt appeared to be choking him. His dark black “Walrus” mustache made him look like “Wimpy” from the Popeye cartoons. Fortunately, the thick, bulletproof glass protected her from the blasts of stale garlic each time he wheezed.

The agent looked through the presented document. His thick fingers flipped through the pages slowly.

“Carol Dunmore is your correct name? What is the reason for your travel,” he inquired?

“Yes, my name is Carol Dunmore. I’m here to visit friends, and tour the country,” Carol lied in reply. Better to say she was just visiting than to try to explain about being a volunteer at a dig site.

Satisfied with her response, he slammed a rubber stamp on a blank page and returned her passport. Almost as an afterthought, he said, “Oh, please go to the information desk. They have been paging you,” and pointed in the direction of the information counter. Carol fought with the baggage cart to avoid hitting the slower moving people blocking her path. Rushing, the best she could, to the information counter, she strained to see through the crowd, for any sign of Marcus. Her disappointment grew when she couldn’t see Marcus anywhere.

Anxiety clutched at her heart. She rushed to the info desk. A smartly dressed young man asked to see her passport, to verify her identity. After he was satisfied, he handed her an envelope. With trembling hands, she ripped the envelope open. Her hands were shaking so much she could barely read the words. She gasped for air to steady herself and stood dumbstruck, staring at the few brief sentences, trying to get more meaning than the simple words contained.

The phrase “Call me right away. Don’t use your cell phone,” mystified her. She was not sure why Marcus made a point of not using cell phones. She turned back to the clerk for directions to the nearest pay phone.

The events of the last few minutes worried Carol. Why wasn’t Marcus there? What was wrong with using her cell phone? In this turbulent state of mind, she had trouble trying to get her thoughts under control. She fumbled nervously with her purse to find the required currency to feed the phone. With trembling hands, she quickly dialed the number provided in the note.

The phone rang three times before a husky male voice answered, " Yassou".

“Hello, Marcus? This is Carol, Carol Dunmore.

“Oh, Carol I’m so happy to hear your voice. I see you got the note I arranged for you,” Marcus’ baritone voice crooned.

“Yes, I was paged to pick up your note at the info desk. What’s wrong? Where are you?” Carol whispered into the phone receiver as if fearing someone might be listening.

“Oh, I really wanted to be there to greet you, but an emergency came up. Look, I have to clear up a few more details, but I will meet you as soon as possible. It would really be best if you get a rental car and drive up the coast to a small fishing village. Please do not use your cell phone. There have been reports of hackers hanging around the Airport who specialize is stealing cell phone codes and running up your phone bill. Oh, and be very careful when you use your credit card too. You need to avoid identity theft,” Marcus instructed with a slow controlled voice.

Not able to see the person she was talking to made it hard for her to grasp the full impact of what he was telling her. Carol was not thrilled about not seeing him, but was happy he was concerned about her.

“Ok, you need to get a rental car, and drive north along the coast highway until you get to the small fishing village near Paralia,” Marcus instructed her.

He gave her detailed instructions on where she should go. Carol jotted down the few cryptic instructions on how to find the place. While she talked, she constantly scanned the area to see if someone followed her.

“Now that you mentioned my need to be careful, I think there are two men following me. I thought I was just being paranoid until you mentioned the dangers,” Carol whispered.

There was a frighteningly long pause, before Marcus said, “All the more reason to avoid using your cell phone. It is always better to be safe than sorry”.

“Marcus, do you really believe I might be followed? You did not seem a bit surprised when I mentioned it to you. Is there something going on I should know about?” Carol queried.

“I really can’t say. Sometimes there are criminals who hang out around the airports looking for potential targets. Women traveling alone make easy targets for kidnappings. I’m sure if I was there, you would have never noticed anything out of the ordinary. I’m really glad you’re observant enough to detect a possible threat. Call me, if necessary, but not on your cell phone,” Marcus continued. “Now, get the car, and follow the directions I gave you. I’ll meet you as soon as I can,” he said before he gave her a long-distance kiss, and hung up.

Carol’s heart leaped when she heard the long-distance kiss. After hearing Marcus’ explanation, she took a deep breath and headed off to find a rental car. Hearing Marcus’ voice reassured her. Maybe it was not just her imagination or some other more secret part of her feeling a deep emotional tie. She was sure Marcus must also be aware of the burning force when they were together.

Carol struggled, with the baggage cart to the nearest car rental service. She was pleasantly surprised when they drove the car around to the door and assisted her with her bags. She took the map they provided, spread it out on the trunk of the car and quickly ran her finger over the route Marcus described. She wanted to make sure she had a clear understanding of the route before she entered the traffic.

Carol looked around the area to determine the best way to exit the airport and enter the stream of traffic. She noticed two men, dressed in dark suits, standing at the corner about fifty yards away. They did not look like they were looking in her direction, but occasionally they did glance at her. She thought they might be the same people, she saw earlier, following her. Fear gripped her tightly, squeezing the breath out of her. Anxiety quickened her movements. She jumped into the car and sped out of the arrivals area.

Driving as fast as the congested traffic permitted, her eyes darted back and forth checking the rearview mirror frequently to ensure no one was following her. She fought her way through the congested city traffic driving somewhat recklessly. Carol sped away, like a stuntman in a badly directed spy move. She was not used to the crowded streets and the hectic European driving style. With only a few very close misses, she soon found herself out on the major highway heading north.

Carol tried to visualize the map in her mind as she drove. She remembered the map showed the Greek coastline, cluttered with many remote fishing villages. Marcus stressed that the village she needed to go to was not shown on the maps but was close to a fishing village and once she passed that village there would be a small, hard to see, exit. Due to the fact it is not on many maps it makes a great place where one can escape for a quiet vacation. As she sped along the highway, she noted most of villages were not big enough to be on anything except local maps. The city of Paralia was the largest city in a chain of lovely villages sprinkled along the ragged coast. Marcus’ instructions called for her to take the small exit just north of Paralia.

Not sure if she was being followed, Carol drove past the exit, then doubled back to see if the other car from the airport was behind her. Much to her surprise, she didn’t see any cars at all. This time, she took the exit. The road rapidly degraded, from a small one lane paved road to a rutted dirt path. Carol found herself on an incredibly small serpentine path, chiseled out of the face of a cliff. Marcus must have picked this place to seek seclusion.

At the bottom of the cliff, she came to a beautiful harbor. She could see buildings ahead and hoped she could find a hotel. With her travel funds nearly depleted, she wondered if places so far from civilization accepted credit cards.

The village only had one “STREET”. On one side was the picturesque harbor. On the other side was a long row of ancient, whitewashed buildings squeezed up against the cliff. Exhausted from the day’s journey, Carol was eager to find a cheap hotel. As it turned out, there was only one hotel. The old whitewashed façade provided a quaint inviting appearance. Once inside, Carol found the hotel looked cheap, but still had a respectable flair. She was pleasantly surprised when the clerk said Dr. Atonasis made the reservation for her.

After checking in, Carol returned to the rental car to get her bags. After some consideration, she decided to take just one bag up to the room for now. The bag held toiletries and some casual wear. That was all she needed tonight. She felt too exhausted to make multiple trips at the moment. The other bags could wait until the morning. Carol politely declined the clerks offer to help take her bag to the room.

As soon as she entered the room, she dropped the bag on the bed. Upon opening the bag, she shook her head, dismayed at the collection of crumpled garments. She rummaged through the available garments, looking for something fit to wear. She found a cute, dark burgundy skirt and a white peasant blouse with a wide lace bodice. She carefully hung them over the back of the chair by the small desk. The heat in the room was stifling. Looking around she found the small window AC unit and turned it on high. The cool draft of air gave instant relief from the heat.

Soaked with sweat from the heat of the day, her clothing clung to her body, making a hot shower her first priority. Carol savagely tugged at her blouse, peeling it from her body, before she could release the clasp of her tight-fitting bra. With a sigh of relief, she attacked her worn blue jeans and white cotton panties. Impatiently she wiggled and squirmed to remove the clinging garments from her damp skin.

Standing nude in the small room, Carol sucked in a deep breath and filled the small room with a great sigh of relief. She only paused a moment to relish the cool air delivered by the A/C. While she basked in the cool breeze, she checked her image in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. Just 21 years old she was trim and fit. Carol’s critical eye examined every inch of the reflected image. As always, she was unhappy and disappointed. Her body did not match her secret expectations. She consoled herself with the thought, “No woman is ever satisfied with her body”.

“As long as Marcus likes how I look is all that really matters,” she told the image in the mirror. She entered the quaint bathroom and started to adjust the water in the shower. The plumbing was old, and the pipes made strange clunking sounds, as the water gushed forth. The shower stall was small. The tiles were gray and caked with white streaks of calcium. It took a long time to get the temperature right. She got all the soaps, shampoos and washcloths together before she stepped into the shower.

Carol used her teeth to rip the plastic off the small bar of soap provided by the hotel. Armed with a small bottle of shampoo and the hotel soap she checked the water temperature one more time. Desperate to wash the grime of the day’s travel off, she couldn’t wait to feel the cleansing spray of the shower.

Carol’s entire body jerked and quivered when the stinging spray, from the showerhead, attacked her soft skin. She ducked her head under the stream, to wash the oily deposits of dust and grime out of her hair. Methodically, she worked a hand full of shampoo into her hair. She closed her eyes tightly, to avoid getting soap in them. Rivers of soapy water ran down her face, while she scrubbed her hair.

Carol focused on the warmth of the water and how the spray stimulated her tired body.

After carefully rinsing all the shampoo out of her hair, she decided to take some time to savor the soothing sensation of the water dancing on her breasts. She used the small bar of soap to work up a frothy lather all over her body. After working the frothy foam until her skin tingled and felt squeaky clean, Carol raised her arms up over her head and turned slow pirouettes under the warm spray.

The water splashed over every inch of her nude body. The warm water massaging her travel worn body stimulated her in a way she had not felt for quite a long time. Looking down, she observed her nipples were aroused, standing proud and firm, atop her ample breasts. Carefully, Carol worked her hands roughly over the mounds. The result was dizziness and a trembling of her knees.

She leaned back against the tile wall for support. Now the river of soapy water, from her breasts, was running down her torso, continuing down between her thighs. The neatly trimmed patch of pubic hair was drenched, in the frothy foam. A devilish grin erupted on her face. Carol reached out, to readjust the angle of the showerhead, to focus the jets between her legs.

Carol relished the effect of the warm water splashing on her most private of private spots. She quaked at the explosion of wanton lust she received from the cascade of stinging water jets hitting her between her legs.

The warm water massaging her softness drove her crazy. Carol arched her back and spread her legs wide to focus the stream of water on the throbbing spot that seemed to demand attention. A loud, low-pitched, moan filled the small shower stall as Carol’s body writhed and basked in the overwhelming thrill filling her body.

Carol knew she should stop, but her body would not comply. Her hands took on a will of their own and deftly slipped between her thighs and worked the magic they knew so well. The soapy residue, quickly churned into frothy foam, providing a slippery lubrication.

Gasping for breath Carol lost control. Every muscle in her legs was tight to the breaking point. Explosions of bright light, behind her closed eyes, interrupted with images of Marcus. The images flashed, one after the other like some stop frame movie, in erotic splendor.

Trembling from head to toe, Carol clutched her crotch, grinding it against her palm until the power of the anticipated orgasm rocked her to the core. Her legs buckled and gave way. Slowly she slid to the floor, the now barely warm water spewing from the shower splashing on her spent quivering flesh.

The soothing water washed away all traces of the day's grime. Now weak, she wallowed in the fatigue of spent lust. With difficulty, she stood up. She uses both towels to dry off. She wrapped one towel around her hair like a turban. With the other towel, she rigorously rubbed all the water off her vibrant skin. She rubbed until her skin was pink and tingly.

Exhilarated and yet weakened by her sexual release, Carol dropped onto the bed next to the still opened luggage and fell asleep. She remembered how two strange men were standing at the rental car stand when she exited the airport in Athens. Were they really following her?

Was she just becoming paranoid? Soon the world of dreams captured her. She dreamed of the event/plagued day. The dream was a kaleidoscope filled with images of strangers who seemed to follow every step of her journey.

Suddenly, Carol was jarred from her fitful sleep. A gust of the wind, somewhere outside her door, slammed a window shut. She looked around trying to remember where she was. The room was dark. The sun was already low when she arrived and now there was no trace of twilight. With a shaking hand, she reached out to turn on the bedside lamp. A yellow glow chased the dark gloom from the tiny room. A quick glance at the clock indicated it was a quarter past nine. Hunger pains, deep in the pit of her stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten anything all day.

Setting on the edge of the bed, unconcerned with her nudity, she tried to make a plan for the remainder of the day. Casually, she pulled a fresh bra and panties on. The dark burgundy skirt and a white peasant blouse with a wide lace bodice slipped easily over her trim torso. They were still wrinkled from being in her suit case, but that did not matter. She slipped on a pair of natural leather sandals, before heading to the hotel restaurant. The hour was late. Only a few locals were present, hunched over their community table drinking ouzo. The owner personally escorted her to a small table near a window overlooking a courtyard. The sound of old Greek folk music whispered in the background. Carol asked the owner if he could recommend something, and she accepted his suggestion. He rushed a large glass of dark red local wine to her table before he vanished behind a glass bead curtain.

With an explosive bang, the main door swung open and a young couple entered, filling the area with laughter. The girl had long, raven black hair. Her eyes looked like they held the secrets of antiquity. The man had wide shoulders and strong muscular arms. Perhaps he was a crewmember of one of the fishing boats, Carol mused as she sipped the wine.

Obviously, the couple did not come to eat or to drink. The owner scurried out from the steaming kitchen to register them for a room. The man slammed a sum of money, on the counter top. Arm in arm the two love birds rushed off in the direction of their assigned room. Their desperation and all-consuming lust must have detonated as soon as the door closed. The unmistakable sound of passion flooded the dining area.

Carol’s glass was empty by the time the orgy of youthful passion subsided, by that time a plate of different seafood delights arrived. Carol ordered a second glass of red wine and savored the meal. Before her second sip of wine, the thumping of the headboard resumed. Carol blushed because she knew it could be her and Marcus making the same noise.

The wine, combined with the long hard drive and the strange events of the day, all contributed to Carol’s fatigue. The effects of too much wine made it difficult for her to stand. With great effort, she fought her way back to her room. Hearing the thumping beat of a headboard against the wall, she smiled realizing her room was right next to the two lovebirds. Carol turned on the light and drew the curtains closed. The room smelled musty, hot and stuffy. The AC was failing in its attempt to cool the air, or even freshen it. Sweat trickled down her back. She turned the AC to the max. The fresh cool breeze from the old AC soothed her.

Without any fanfare, she deftly removed her clothing and dropped into bed. Just as Carol was drifting into a dream, the lovers resumed their horizontal tango of passion. The rhythmic bumping and banging of the headboard against the hotel wall continued for what seemed an eternity. Struggling to find sleep, a thought crossed her mind. Maybe I should call a doctor because it must be more than four hours by now. A smirking smile distorted her lips at the overused joke, and she faded away into the softness of a blissful dream.

The Next Morning

The morning sun peeked around the gap in the curtains, leaving strips of bright white and shadow on Carol’s uncovered nudity. With great reluctance, she opened her eyes to greet whatever new adventure this day might bring.

Carol rolled out of bed and decided a cold shower might be the best medicine to get her blood circulating. The bite of the cold water prevented her from loitering in the shower very long. She rummaged through her little bag of makeup to find the essentials required to assemble her face. With well-practiced movements, she carefully applied the makeup until she was satisfied with her freshly painted face. She spent a few moments running a brush quickly through her hair. Not totally satisfied she finally gave up and declared it passable.

Searching for appropriate attire, she went through the remaining clothes to find something presentable. She wanted to look proper when Marcus arrived. A red and white striped tank top, white tennis skirt, and a pair of worn flip-flops was the best option available from the collection of wrinkled garments.

Still feeling uneasy about not seeing Marcus, her mind struggling with the weight of the mystery, Carol tried to conceal her fears by boldly entering the breakfast area in her most professional manner. She took her time looking over the items on the buffet. The offering was simple; consisting of homemade bread, assorted cheeses, some cold cuts, yogurt, and trays of fresh fruits.

After filling her plate, Carol looked for the best place to sit. She chose a table in the corner. The seat with her back to the wall gave her an excellent overview of the room and the entrance. She put her plate on the table, before getting a cup of coffee from the big silver pot at the end of the serving line. Her craving for the stimulus of hot coffee could not wait until she returned to her seat. Sipping from the cup of steaming coffee she strolled across the empty room. Thoughts of Marcus filled her mind.

She pondered the possibilities of why Marcus hadn’t met her at the airport. Trying to calm her nerves, she took a large sip of coffee and surveyed the room over the rim of the mug. The steam from the refreshing brew made the view of the room appear hazy. To Carol's mind, it looked like some image from an old movie filled with drama, suspense and most of all romance.

She was the only one eating breakfast. She began to wonder if she was the last person to eat. Maybe everyone else got up early to have more time to enjoy the day. Then she thought, maybe I am the only one here. Who would want to come to this forgotten village?

Lost in her thoughts, Carol silently studied the swirling dust in the beams of sunlight pouring through the curtains. Suddenly, movement in the corner of her vision caught her eye. It was the young woman from the night before entering the breakfast area. She appeared to glide over to the buffet. The grace with which she moved was almost as though she was dancing. Soon, with her plate filled with bread and cheeses, she strode up to Carol, but why?

“Are you Carol?” inquired the girl somewhat timidly.

“Yes, I’m Carol Dunmore, why do you ask?” replied Carol as she studied the woman standing before her.

“Oh, good! I’m so happy I found you. My name is Sofronia Konus. Everyone calls me Fronia. Uncle Marcus told me to look for you. He said to tell you he’ll be here later in the day,” the woman stated, looking directly into Carol’s eyes just like Marcus always did.

“I’m very happy to meet you Sofronia Konus. I was so disappointed when Marcus was not at the Airport to meet me. All I got was a rather cryptic message over the phone telling me to come here. I arrived yesterday afternoon. I think I saw you come to the hotel late last night, but you seemed to be looking for something other than me. Yes, I saw the young man you were with and it was clear you needed more than just a room at the time,” Carol said with a wide mischievous grin as she extended her hand in greeting.

“Oh! Well yes, I knew I must be here early so I . . . well, I thought . . . it might be nice to get here extra early and spend some time with Alex,” Fronia answered, with a blush burning her cheeks.

Carol couldn’t restrain a laugh, but she did manage to hide it behind her hand. She gestured for Fronia to take a seat and join her for breakfast.

“Did Marcus give you any other details about why he was not at the airport? Did he indicate when he will arrive? I’m really very concerned about all this mystery. I was so tired of my small-town boring life. I was looking for adventure, but this is more than I expected. Now I’m not sure what is going on. Marcus was so elusive in his comments. It is almost like some made for TV spy story or something,” Carol commented.

“No, he did not say much on the phone at all. It sounded like he was in a hurry. Oh, he did say something about some sort of investigation, but didn’t provide any details,” Fronia replied while she ate her breakfast.

“Well, thank you for the update, Fronia. At least now I have some idea of when I might see him,” Carol said with a sigh of resignation.

“I’m not sure what Marcus is doing. He only calls me when he needs a favor. He doesn’t tell me much. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more, but I’m really glad we got to talk. Marcus did not tell me you were about my age. I think it is funny that you traveled all the way to this place because you were trying to get away from your boring small-town life. Now you are here, in my boring small town. There is only one main street and a fishing harbor here. The tide comes in and the tide goes out. How exciting is that? We don’t get many people on vacations visiting this place. The fishing fleet has to sell its catch up the coast because there is no market here. We eat a lot of fish and cheese. The fishers always hold back the best of the catch to bring home and there is a goat herd on the top of the cliff. The family is the only thing holding this place together. I hope you enjoy your stay and you don’t get bored with this place. It is so funny you come here to this boring little village. Maybe to me, your life, that you say is boring in your hometown, would be exciting,” Fronia said.

“Oh, I am so happy you made the effort to find me to pass along Marcus’ message. I just have to figure out what to do to occupy my time until he arrives,” Carol mused.

The two women continued chatting. It was obvious they had much in common. Carol only interrupted the conversation to refill her coffee cup. Their conversation drifted from topic to topic with no clear agenda. Yet, questions were asked, designed to learn more about each other. After they seemed to run out of material to discuss, Fronia started to fidget.

“It looks like it will be very warm today. I know I would be out on the shore if I did not have to go to work soon. You could leave a note at the desk to let them know where you are.” Fronia suggested. Almost as an afterthought, she added, “If you need help the Desk Clerk, he’s my cousin, can contact me”.

“Thanks for the tip, and thank you again for the message from Marcus. I think I will catch some rays while I await the arrival of the mysterious Dr. Marcus Atonasis,” Carol said as they both walked to the hallway.

Carol accompanied Fronia out of the hotel. The blazing, early morning sun made it hard to see and already made the air seem to shimmer above the hot pavement. As they parted ways, she waved goodbye to her new friend. Carol stood in the arched doorway and took a few minutes to survey the area.

Fronia was right. There was not much to see except the harbor and the ancient fishing boats. Her curiosity and hunger to explore everything caused her to pause frequently on her way to retrieve the remaining bags from the car. She studied the quaint village and the ancient harbor before returning to her room. Fronia's suggestion to spend time on the little beach seemed to be a good way to kill time while waiting for Marcus.

Once inside the cool confines of the small room, Carol dug into one of the new bags for an outfit suitable for the beach. Frustrated by the tangle of garments, Carol dumped the contents onto the bed. A few minutes more rummaging produced a two-piece swimsuit.

After finding the garments she sought, Carol carefully repacked most of the clothing. She wanted to be ready to leave when Marcus arrived. The news Fronia provided helped raise her spirits, but Carol could not shake the shadow of disappointment.

Carol’s mind was racing, trying to process the new information. Fronia's report helped a little, but it raised more questions than answers. Realizing there was nothing she could do at the moment, to change the situation, Carol slipped into her stylish two-piece swimsuit and a red and white striped, long-tailed, cover up. The clerk graciously provided a blanket for Carol to use on the beach.