STJ Memento

 
We sit on the beach. It isn't as busy as yesterday. Different beach, different island. Today we are on St. John. Glorious!  

St. John is completely different than St. Thomas; or so I've been told. The islands are a mere 20 minutes and ten worlds apart. The greeting on St. John is the welcome I expected upon St. Thomas. Music is playing. Drivers are coaxing you to their taxi. Seabreeze is blowing, and the buildings of radiant colors are calling our names. 


We enter into the Texas Coast Café. A mimosa, margarita, and bushwacker, please. Delicious! We each try each other's drink. The perfect start to the day - at 11:30am.

Another round plus one later, and switch the bushwacker for a Blue Caribbean (had to - it matched my dress!) and the semi-native appears. Just in time - the bartender just poured her drink. Only in STJ.

We go on a joy-ride of sorts. It is the second time today I have gone in the car with a stranger. But she isn't quite a stranger - she is from the same hometown as I. 
 
  A few errands later we get to her house. I don't realize it is where we are going, perhaps the bushwacker and blue drink had to do with that. The hills lead to immaculate neighborhoods. Lush flowers line the lawns in front of the white stone houses. The native pulls in a driveway. I realize it is hers. 
 
  She splits the house with another family upstairs. We walk around back. I take a picture of the small reptile on the flower pot. I am fascinated by the little geckos and iguanas among the islands. Where did they all go when it rained yesterday? Why haven't I seen one splattered on the side of the road? I've seen a cat like that.
 
  In her beach bag she also packs wine. Barefoot - one of my favorite. We begin to leave there, but apparently as the Islanders go, - they run on McKenna time - we leave 20 minutes later. We leave after the start of the rain shower and after switching the wine for rum and OJ. Hmmm…
 
  The car ride continues. I don't know where I am except that we are heading north-ish on the island of St. John. Couldn't say much more. I have not studied a map of this island; I am just going to take their words for it. 
 
  Speaking of their words - they speak of folks from town: exs, friends, enemies, businesses, life - how it's changed and how it hasn't. I try to follow. I feel like Hansel & Gretel looking for their breadcrumbs - picking up the few pieces left behind by the forest animals.

  My other friend was very right about the roads of St. John. They wind, climb, and have no rails before the cliffs. The roads to the beach take us through the rain, down the hills, and around the sharp bends. We pass scenic overlooks, construction sites, and road work where the flaggers say hi to you.