The Island Flamingo: Part 10
I cannot return to my sleep; the flamingo in my dream lingers in my brain. I lie awake in bed for some time, twiddling my thumbs and watching the window curtains gently flutter. Then I notice an envelope hanging from one of the curtains with a paper clip.
Tiptoeing so I don’t startle my escort, I head towards the window. I grab the envelope and open it. It contains a small note with the exact words in my dream along with a bright pink flamingo feather, a map with directions to an island towards the west, and a ticket for a private boat ride at 10am tomorrow morning.
Clenching the envelope near my chest, I decide that the temptation is too much for me to ignore; tomorrow I will go to the island. The hardest part’s going to be convincing my escort, though.
My escort and I have an early breakfast at the hotel. I make sure she finishes everything before I work up the nerve to propose my idea. This familiar feeling of dread that’s haunted me ever since leaving my family behind 20 years ago is becoming stronger. The fear of disapproval, disappointment, and sheer contempt every time I ask for something begins to engulf me. Even though I’m no longer a child, I cannot help but feel like a five-year-old wanting their parents to read them a bedtime story, even though they look exhausted.
I realize that I’m shaking my coffee cup and try to calm myself by remembering the mud bath and massage from yesterday. That helps tremendously, and I ask my escort if I could go on a cruise around the Greek islands.
“You see, I’m interested in going on a boat cruise to explore the nearby islands. I want to have a chance to see more of Greece and experience what it’s like to be on a boat.”
Sadly, my escort looks ready to disapprove of my proposal.
I quickly add in this. “You don’t have to come along, I’ll be fine. In fact, I think you should take this opportunity to have the day off. You’ve been so helpful and understanding of me, it’s the least I can do. I’m so sorry for all of the trouble I caused you. You deserve a break from me.”
My escort’s face creates a small smile, and she says “You don’t have to apologize, I think that will be a nice idea. Please don’t go too far and have a cell phone ready in case of emergencies.”
“Of course, thank you so much.” I say to her.
A giant wave of relief sweeps away my dread for the time being.