REVISED: Opening Scene

Alexandra Pike sat alone at a table outside the Ground Truth Cafe on Morgan Street.  It was noon, and the sun scorched her exposed shoulders.  The light-weight red sundress she wore offered little respite from the heat, and she could feel the sweat forming on her neck and chest.  Her shoulder length, chestnut colored hair was tied back in a pony tail, and was partially hidden under a large brimmed white hat.  The reflective lenses of her large framed sunglasses concealed her brilliant hazel eyes.  Despite the heat, a pleasant atmosphere hung about the area.  The smell of freshly ground coffee beans wafted through the open door of the cafe and hovered above the tables outside.  The street was crowded with tourists window shopping outside expensive boutiques and local artisans eagerly beaconing visitors to inspect their crafts at roadside stands.  All along the street, performers advertised their upcoming shows loudly, and young couples walked hand in hand toward the nearby dock.  Overhead, seagulls cried for scraps from the tables of the numerous sidewalk eateries that lined the street near the harbor.  Alexandra closed her eyes as a cool wind off the bay touched her face.  She savored the salty smell of the ocean breeze, and reveled in the momentary relief from the summer heat. 

The seagulls overhead continued their begging, but their pathetic groans were suddenly drowned out by a thunderous blast from a cruise ship’s horn, alerting those nearby that boarding would begin soon.  The cruise ship anchored at the dock was a colossal vessel, a red and white behemoth that advertised as the finest luxury cruise liner on the high seas.  The word “KARMAN” was emblazoned in gigantic red letters on the ship’s stern. 

Alexandra lifted her glass and left a bright red lipstick mark on the brim as she took a sip of her iced mocha, soothing her parched throat.  She put the drink down on the glass tabletop and reached for a manilla envelope sitting in front of her. She was intimately familiar with the contents of the envelope, but could not resist looking inside one more time before she had to go.  Undoing the small elastic band holding the envelope closed, Alexandra removed a well worn photo of a man.  He was powerful looking, with thick shoulders, strong arms and a broad chest.  He looked to be about forty five or so, and was greying slightly around the temples.  The rest of his hair looked to be nearly black.  Alexandra looked at the picture for a moment, running her index finger around the man’s eyes.  The eyes staring back at her from the page were of the lightest shade of blue, and had several wrinkles at the corners which betrayed a long history of smiling excessively.  Alexandra had studied the man’s picture extensively for nearly three months prior to that day.  She knew every line and wrinkle on his face, yet was still uncertain she would be able to recognize him when she saw him.  Alexandra finished caressing the eyes, and placed the photo on the table.  She picked up the handwritten note that came with the photograph and read to herself, “Henry Billings — Carnival cruise 4857, June 14th—12 noon”

Alexandra looked at her watch.  It was 12:10.  Henry was late. 

After taking another sip, Alexandra stood up, taking hold of the black rolling suitcase she had packed for this trip.  Walking towards the ship, she looked around the crowd for the face with which she had become so acquainted through a single photograph over the past quarter of a year.  She saw old couples lining up, who looked as if they had been together so long that each had taken on the significant physical and character traits of the other.  There were young couples eagerly rushing towards the ramp, past overloaded parents herding excited children in the direction of the promised excitement that awaited them onboard.  There were several groups of young men, who looked to be about college age, standing in line, talking amongst themselves, stopping every so often to gaze at the numerous groups of attractive young women making their way towards the boarding area.  Each of these groups looked upon the others with a mixture of fond memories and future ambition.  All around the pier there were family members and friends of travelers, wishing them bon voyage, but their words were drowned out by the sound of water slapping against the pier and the incessant whining of the gulls overhead.  As Alexandra neared the ship, she could taste the salty moisture in the air, and sea spray soothed her sunburnt shoulders.  The smell of frying fish drifted from a seafood restaurant on the other side of the pier, and the sounds of the busy market street became duller as Alexandra approached the dock.  Suddenly, a woman’s voice came over a set of loudspeakers and announced, “First class boarding will begin in five minutes.” Several of the older couples and one family moved forward, ready to get their Caribbean vacation underway.

Alexandra scanned the faces of the passengers and family members.  No Henry.

“Michael,” called a young mother to her son playing nearby, “get over here.  We’re going to get on the ship in a couple minutes.”

“OK.”

Alexandra turned to see a young child running back to his mother, and immediately caught sight of a familiar face.  Henry Billings was wearing white slacks with brown leather sandals and a light green, short sleeve shirt.  His pale blue eyes were hidden by a pair of silver-framed aviator sunglasses, but Alexandra could see the evidence of forty five years of smiling behind the glasses.  Henry was carrying an old brown satchel in his left hand, and his right hand pulled a tan and brown wheeled suitcase.  If anything, Henry was more physically imposing in person than he had appeared in the photograph Alexandra had tucked away inside her canvas shoulder bag.  His massive forearms protruded from the sleeves of his green button down shirt, and rippled with muscles that appeared as if they had been forged by years of strenuous physical labor.  His hands were massive, and looked as powerful as two vice clamps. 

“We are pleased to begin boarding our first class passengers at this time,” declared the woman on the loudspeaker, “please form a line to the right.  Thank you.”

Alexandra wheeled her suitcase towards the line that was forming at the check-in counter, and took her place in line right behind Henry.  Henry smiled at her.  She smiled back seductively.

“Hi,” opened Henry, offering his hand, “I’m Hank.  Henry actually.”

“Hi Hank,” replied Alexandra, taking his hand.  His hands were smooth as a young woman’s, making Alexandra question her initial assumption regarding his muscular appearance.  “I’m Veronica.  I can see that the ship’s advertisement of the best scenery available was true.”  She held onto his hand.

Henry smiled, and she could see him inspecting her body from behind his sunglasses.  “Yes.  It seems that way, doesn’t it?”

“Hopefully it’s cooler once we get out to sea,” said Alexandra, fanning herself with her hand, “I don’t know if I could handle it if it got any hotter.”

“I know what you mean,” agreed Henry, still moving his eyes up and down over Alexandra’s body, “at least if it gets too hot, they have plenty of ways on board to cool off.”

“That’s good.”

“Are you here alone?” asked Henry, gesturing to the folks on the pier saying good-bye to their friends and family members.

“Yes,” answered Alexandra, “I needed a vacation by myself.  What about you?”

Henry smiled as he held up his left hand to reveal a tan line on his ring finger, “Recently divorced.  This is my congratulations gift to myself.” 

Alexandra laughed, “that bad huh?”

“Yes, that bad.”

“Well, I’m heading that way too,” lied Alexandra,  “my husband thinks I’m on a business trip right now.  He’s always been an asshole, but I finally decided I’d had enough.  I just figured ‘if he can do it, so can I’.”

“Sounds right to me,” agreed Henry, “his loss I guess, right?”

“You’ve got that right,” said Alexandra, touching Henry’s massive arm.  His shirt felt like silk on her fingertips, and she could smell his Old Spice cologne as she moved closer to him. 

Henry forced his attention from Alexandra long enough to hand his ticket to the agent at the check-in desk, who scanned his first class ticket into her computer.  “Thank you Mr. Billings,” said the agent, “enjoy the cruise.” 

“Thank you,” replied Henry, turning back to Alexandra.

Alexandra held out her ticket for the agent, who scanned it, and then addressed her, “Thank you Miss Stevens, enjoy the cruise.” 

“Thank you,” said Alexandra, looking back at Henry, “I’m sure I will.”