A Pale Paradise

  ******

  "Oh, my God, Thad, it's after seven."

  "Damn, I forgot that clock doesn't work."

  They jumped out of the bed and grabbed their clothes. As Phyl pulled on her lightweight black pants and white top that she had worn on their first flight over, Thad called the desk and asked for a cab to pick them up in ten minutes, then dressed quickly in his long khaki pants and dark green polo shirt. Without a word, Phyl ran to the bathroom, collecting all their toiletries, as Thad threw all the clothes he could find in the suitcase.

  "I'm surprised we still have the recorder." Thad stuck it in their suitcase.

  "I know. I wonder why Matt didn't grab that when he took the bag."

  They headed out the door, and fairly ran down the hall to the elevator.

  On the first floor, Thad made a quick stop at the desk to check out, and they rushed out the double doors to the waiting cab and leaned back against the seat.

  "The airport, please. Our flight is at eight, and we're running behind. "

  "Wow, deja vu." Phyl laughed.

  "Part of de main street is blocked off." the driver called back to them cheerfully. "Dere is a ceremony wit de queen today." He swung the cab around and headed inland on a side street and Phyl glanced back at their hotel for a last look at the picturesque locale.

  "Oddly, I will miss the Bahamas," she sighed wistfully. "I only wish things had been different."

  "I know, I share your sentiment." Thad peered through the side window and she saw him frown. "Look at this traffic, Phyl. I'm not sure we're going to make the flight."

  "I will get you dere on time," the driver called back to them. "Hold on. It will be bumpy," he laughed as he sped up, and Thad put his arm around Phyl's shoulders and they both held on to the armrests as they bounced over the potholes on the neglected back road, and they leaned from side to side as the driver expertly wove the cab between the smallest of spaces between the bumper to bumper line of traffic trying to escape the road block.

  True to his word, within twenty minutes they had reached John F. Kennedy Drive and the driver turned left onto the busy road to the airport. They looked at each in astonishment, and stretched their shoulders as the taxi pulled up to the drop-off point.

  "Thank you so much." Phyl called to the driver as Thad handed him a tip.

  "You're welcome." the friendly driver leaned toward them. "'ave a good day."

  "That would be a first." Phyl laughed as they entered the bustling airport, and they hurried to the appropriate counter, grateful that there was no line, and paid for their tickets. Handing over their black suitcase, they lost no time in getting to their gate after Thad took the packets from the agent. After the necessary boarding procedures, they headed their flight and found their seats toward the back of the craft. Phyl had decided earlier that she was not going to let their earlier crash cause her to fear flying. There were too many other wonderful places she wanted to visit in the future to let that happen. They had survived, and that was all that mattered.

  "Thad, we didn't call Sergeant Dawes."

  "That will be our first order of business when we get home." Thad's deep voice was calming. "Actually, I like the idea of talking to him while we're at home rather than in the Bahamas."

  "You're right, of course." Phyl sighed and leaned back on the headrest. "He can't call us back in to headquarters for more questioning." She gazed out the rectangular window as the plane taxied and lifted into the early morning sky and headed northwest toward Atlanta.