Ode to a Fish Sandwich Read Online Free

going?” the taller one asked.
    The dermatologist twirled the umbrella on his shoulder as he considered the question. It seemed rather intrusive. His stay at the resort was, after all, voluntary. Despite feeling somewhat rankled, he decided to adopt a conciliatory stance.
    “I don’t know yet. I thought I’d explore the island a bit. Do you have a map?”
    The guard shook his head disapprovingly. “You really shouldn’t go out by yourself.” The gates remained firmly closed.
    The doctor tapped his toe against the asphalt, perplexed.
    “Why? What’s out there?”
    The second guard spoke up, a cajoling attempt to placate the wayward guest.
    “I assure you, sir. Everything you need, you can find inside the resort. It’s much safer that way.”
    The doctor tugged on the loose chinstrap dangling from the brim of his hat.
    “Hmm,” he replied, clearly unconvinced.
    Thinking of the many unwitting iguanas that had likely run afoul of the resort’s electric fence, an unusually bold mood swept over the typically prudent dermatologist.
    He summoned his most authoritative physician’s voice and directed it at the guard station.
    “All the same, I think I’ll take a walk down the road there.” He swung the umbrella forward and pointed its tip at the entrance. “Please, open the gates.”
    The uniformed men huddled for yet another conference. Finally, the taller guard, presumably the senior officer, bent over the window ledge to make once last entreaty.
    “Sir, I ask you to please reconsider. Once you leave the resort grounds, we can’t be responsible for your safety.”
    The doctor reflected on this ominous disclosure. An inner voice squeaked inside his head, urging caution, but he quickly stamped it out.
    “I’ll chance it.”
    With a reluctant shrug, the senior guard pushed a button on the control console. There was a creaking of gears as the gates swung outward.
    Giving the two men a polite nod, Dr. Jones proceeded through the opening.
    ~
    THE GUARDS WATCHED the doctor disappear down the dirt road. Then the senior officer reached for the receiver to a shortwave radio mounted next to the console and summoned the reception desk.
    “This is the front gate.”
    He paused for a moment, thumping his thumb against the window ledge.
    “I thought you should know. One of the guests just walked off the resort grounds. Said he wanted to explore the island on foot. We tried to dissuade him, but he wouldn’t listen to reason.”
    An anxious reply squawked out of the receiver.
    “It was the man that nearly drowned yesterday,” the guard answered. After another worried communication, he pursed his lips and sent his confirmation.
    “Yeah, yeah. White Wally.
    ~
    HOLDING THE UMBRELLA over his head, Dr. Jones marched proudly down the gutted road, dodging potholes as he rounded the first curve. An inner pride swelled in his chest, and there was a jaunt to his sandaled step. He had persevered against the guards’ pressure to retreat, asserting himself in an unfamiliar fashion.
    It was empowering, he thought, giving the umbrella a flourishing spin.
    But as he gazed at the surrounding jungle, the road’s empty dirt path, and the overgrown sugarcane crowding in on either side, he began to second-guess his impulsive act.
    “How far was it to the shoreline?” he murmured, trying to maintain his initial bravado as he estimated the distance to the end of the abandoned cane field.
    A light breeze rustled through the un-harvested stalks, creating the sense of movement.
    It was only the wind, he told himself. Or was it?
    Standing on his tiptoes, the doctor scanned the top of the field. He could discern nothing ominous or non-plant-like in the swaying reeds—but then again, he thought nervously, a pursuer could easily hide in the thick greenery below.
    He crouched to the ground and peered through the stalks, searching for approaching feet.
    This effort also failed to provide assurance. The bright sunlight shining down on the road