The Sunset Cruise

Warning: the following content is not typical of my usual fictional pursuits. It’s summer. Vacations have begun. The skies are sunny and bright and a recent cruise unlocked my imagination!

“This has been the most incredible day,” murmured Judy as she stared up into her husband’s eyes. It was 50 years ago to the day she’d recited her wedding vows while gazing into those same chocolate brown eyes. “Did you have fun?”

“It’s been perfect from start to finish,” Ted declared as they took a late-night stroll on the deck of their cruise ship, The Sunset. “We’ve seen so much already and there’s more ahead. We’re lucky, you and I.”

“We are.” Thankful for the abundant good health that carried them to this point in their lives, Judy reflected on other blessings. “How will we ever thank the children for this experience?”

“Bret told me it wasn’t as expensive as we might think, but still. It’s our vacation of a lifetime. It was my dream to travel through the Panama Canal and yours to tour New England.”

“I can’t tell you the last time I felt this relaxed. Aruba is a place we would never think of going. Our day at Eagle Beach was picture perfect—the color of the water, our walk on the beach, even our ride behind the motor boat on that crazy blow-up sofa! So many wonderful memories. I’ve gotten behind writing my journal. I better catch up before we go to bed.”

They’d been on cruises before, but nothing compared to this. For some reason, everything about this trip just seemed better. The staff was friendlier, the activities perfectly meshed with their interests. The entertainment was first rate and the food–the food was incredible, not only every meal but each course of every meal. They had not been disappointed yet.

“Do you think the smell is gone from our room?” Judy asked. The only problem they had since the moment they came onboard was an unpleasant chemical odor in their cabin.

“The steward said they took care of it, and I didn’t notice it before dinner.”

“I wonder what it was.”

“It smelled kind of like bug repellent to me. Maybe they try to prevent mosquitoes from coming on-board due to that Zika virus.” Ted took his wife’s hand. The pair walked in cordial silence.

“Why are you holding my hand? Is it because of the joke the cruise director told?”

“Let me think, how did that go? Oh yes, the cruise director asked a couple holding hands if they were on their honeymoon and the man replied, ‘If I let go, she shops.’ I’m afraid if I let go, you might take off for the stores like the lady in the joke.”

“Ted! Anyone would think I was some sort of spendthrift to hear you talk. Shame on you.”

Any cruise exceeding ten days in length naturally catered to older passengers. That was completely true on this cruise. In fact, Judy hadn’t seen a single child or honeymooning couple. In their early 70s, Judy and Ted were probably younger than most on this trip. They still made an attractive couple, albeit white-haired. Managing to stay trim and fit through the years, they especially enjoyed swimming, pickleball tournaments, dancing and walking onboard.

Ted paused to hold the door for an older lady with a walker. Turning back to his wife, he proclaimed, “You know I have to tease you.” He counted on his engaging smile to reclaim his wife’s favor. It hadn’t failed him yet.

“The kids thought of everything, even Champagne for our anniversary dinner and flowers in the stateroom. This is a day I will never forget.”

“Let’s go up to the buffet before we go back to our room.”

“How can you eat anymore? Aren’t you stuffed?”

“I am. But it’s our anniversary and I think we should take a couple of cookies back to the room. Besides, there might be guacamole tonight.”

* * *

George hated this part of his job. The ship was anchored at its customary unadvertised port in Venezuela. It was time to pull the bodies off the boat and pick up another batch of unsuspecting senior citizens. He paused at the foot of the bed. Mr. and Mrs. Cummings were the nicest of couples. Balloons from their 50th wedding anniversary celebration still graced the ceiling of their cabin. They died in each other’s arms.

“What are you waiting for, George?” shouted his supervisor as he glanced through the door. “We need to use extra olfactory spray in this room so nobody notices the smell from the gas next time.”

“Why does this have to happen?” asked a melancholy George. “These were such nice people. There was nothing wrong with them. They weren’t debilitated.”

“You dope. There just aren’t enough resources to go around. All these people have ceased to be productive, just a waste of air. Besides, this sure beats being herded into a gas chamber like Hitler did it.” The supervisor chuckled. “Better them than me.”

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