The Winning Holiday

I didn’t know it yet, but this moment would change my life returning it to the winning spirit that it always had during my independent days. When everything seemed spiraling downward, I made a single phone call from my car using one of those modern cell contraptions that was gifted to me during a radio station give away.

Someone on the other end said I was the fifth caller and if I answered a question about the previous show then a fantasy vacation highlighting a tropical backdrop would build and bring back memories.

Here I sit at the known hotel chain’s brand-named tiki bar looking around at what was defined as paradise. There was a small minor detail missing in this sweepstakes opportunity. Not only were there no guests but I did not see an employee for miles.

Quietly peering over the thousands of dollars invested in liquor I heard the ocean smash as the surf crashed on the beach.

That is when I decided to leave my seat and explore the sandy setting whose inhabitants seemed to be vulturous birds looking for prey. Then I saw her standing there wearing a colorful fashionable ensemble and a visual presence that should be on a magazine cover.

“Hello,” I shouted feeling now the excursion was worth it, “who are you?”

“I am that girl in your dreams,” she replied starting to come closer, “I am that warm image on the wintry day that you walk by on the way to work in that corporate office.”

Not knowing how to take the welcoming gesture a flashback returned to my memory reminding me about an important decision-making issue that happened during my youthful innocence. On a romantic stage like this I exchanged vows with a person, and we promised honoring each other through sickness and health. That statement was quickly challenged by God when she fell ill, and I never really comprehended the words that were spoken to me when talking to health care professionals.

What I did understand was the grey marble head stone encrypting her existence for eternity along with the spiritual notation ‘wife of.’ Not long after that episode, I was listening to a classic rock station which I grew up with and they had a promotional event down at the mall. And that is where I was handed the new model to this always changing communication device.

Events unspooled until the final reel confronted the dream like teenage advertisement right in the face. “Why didn’t you call me?” She inquired.

“You decided to play it safe and take what seemed easy,” the challenging tease recounted.

“But we graduated from high school together,” I defended the tragic affair based on reality, “and after finishing the college obligations found the time was finally right,”

“And then she just what,” the glossy picture stated bluntly, “left.”

“Who are you?”

“You do not know me?” She laughed, “I am the girl next door.”

“You were always busy doing something,” I remembered out loud, “and suddenly you were gone.”

Continuing displaying a relaxing smile, “I went to the city of Angels as they call it while you studied and now, I am back in the country that my descendants abandoned for a better life in America.”

“Is that why the deejays sent me here?”

“Your moral responsibility is on your mother’s side,” she told me, “That is why no one through the years put two and two together, you carry your father’s heritage.”

Hearing all this for the first time I was taking back, “What is your name? May I ask?”

“My friends call me Grazuole,”

“That you are,” I paused, “very beautiful.”

Suddenly, she took my hand and I had one more request, “do you want to spend five o’clock somewhere?”

“Why of course,” and we made our way back to the seaside pub that was empty a few minutes ago.

We each found a stool and a bartender emerged from nowhere, “What can I get you two?”

Grinning, I answered, “you have already brought me the truth, what else do I want?”

“That is right my Prince, we brought you the truth,” Grazuole presented a hypnotic enchanting trusting gaze, “welcome home.”