Jill - Prelude & Chapter 1

PRELUDE

I knew I shouldn't have done it, but I did.

“Allison, I'm checking the bank account online. Looks like there's been a fraudulent charge.”

Drats. He noticed it already.

“I doubt it. It's probably something we charged.” He scrutinizes the account every chance he gets. “John, it was probably a medical charge. You know how they use their medical group name instead of Dr. So and So.”

“No, this is not a medical expense. I don't recognize the …”

“How did your lecture go today?”

“Fine. It says here, Energy Power LLC.”

“You solved it. That’s the gas and electrical bill.”

“Not unless they changed their name. No, this is different."

“I'm doing a wash. I can wash your old knapsack.”

“You can't wash that. It's canvas. The wash will destroy its waterproofing.”

I knew he'd say that. “It's old and shabby. You got that thing when Recreation Co-Op first opened up in the 1970’s.”

“Just leave it. I like it the way it is. I’ll be outside mowing the lawn.”

“I'll start dinner.” The lawn is the size of a postage stamp. Why he uses a mower, is beyond me. A weedwacker would have done the trick.

The beach is only a few blocks away. Alameda Island is pricy nowadays. This was John's house before I met him and it's still his house. It's a 1960’er with three bedrooms. He bought it decades ago when he first became a teacher and rented out the rooms to pay off the mortgage.

You’re probably wondering why it’s not my house, too? He never volunteered to add me on as an owner. To be honest, I haven ‘t asked either. I’m afraid it may open up a can of worms, since I sort of refused to marry him; but I wan’t to get into that right now.

Psst, I’m loading up the counter with raw vegetables to make it look like I'm doing something. The zuchinis are rubbery but I'll use them anyways.

Here comes Michael. “I got the mail, Mom. There's a large envelope for you. It's from Energy Power LLC.” Crap, John walked into the kitchen. Michael always had a tendency to blab. Such a goody-goody.

“Shall I open it, Mom?”

“No, that's ok, Michael. I'll take care of it.”

I reach for it with my chicken-greasy fingers but John intervenes. “Let me see that,” he says.

Oh. Oh.

“Allison, what’s this?”

Here’s my opportunity to come clean. “Oh, no wonder that name sounded familiar. It must be the information package.”

“Not another Workshop? You spend more time at workshops than you do at home.”

“You're exaggerating. I've only gone on a few.”

“It seems like every week you're taking one. What day is this one? I'll probably need the car.”

“Don't worry. I won't need the car.”

“Good, it's on the island.”

“Well, not this island. I'll be flying.”

“Flying? Where in blazes is it?”

“Mexico.”

“Mexico?!”

“Yeh, we're going to Mexico!” That’s Sammy, our free spirited one.

“When are we going? I've got a class assignment I have to finish.” That's Michael again, our oldest and most studiest.

“No, boys, we are not going to Mexico. Your mother has crazy notions.”

“Of all places, it has to be Mexico, Allison? San Franscisco is filled with crazyness. Why can't you take a workshop in the city? Better yet, my school has a wonderful selection of specialty courses. What is the workshop? Another one of your make-believe woo-woo waste-of-time-and-money grabbing workshops, I suppose.”

“John, I wasn't relying on you coming. I know you said before you hate Mexico. You've travelled to so many countries digging rocks. So, what's wrong with …”

“First of all, I'm not digging rocks. With my earth science geological survey teams, we have made some remarkable discoveries. Some pertaining to the magnetic field, soil compositions, earthquake predictabilities …”

“So, what's wrong with Mexico?”

“Never mind. You wouldn't understand. It's beyond explanation. Allison, you don't need to roll your eyes.”

“John, according to the pamphlet, it takes place in a little village near Puerto Vallarta. It'll be paradise. Where's Puerto Vallarta?”

“Can we come?”

“Sorry, Sammy, I'm going alone.”

“Allison, you can't be going by yourself?”

“I'll be fine.”

“You still didn't tell me, what is the workshop?”

“You wouldn't understand.”

“Let me see that.” Crap, he yanks the papers out of my hand. “It explicitly states you are to find your own accommodations and transportation. Allison, I can’t let you do that.”

“Sure I can. Other people do it.”

“You're a woman, travelling alone to a foreign country. You don't speak Spanish. Nor do you have any experience travelling internationally.”

“Of course, I've travelled internationally.”

“Ha, hopping back and forth between Canada and the U.S. is nothing compared to a foreign culture, foreign language. You're too naïve. Anything can happen to you.”

“It's ok, John. I'll be ok.”

“Where will you stay?”

“I'll figure it out when I get there.”

“Oh, for Pete's sakes, how are you going to do that when you can't even speak their language?”

“I know a bit of French, Isn't Spanish similar? I'll get by.”

“You think you'll magically speak Spanish when the plane hits the ground? Allison, don't go.”

“I already committed. I gave them my deposit.”

I’m chopping vegetables without realizing it. Oh boy, John shoves a kitchen chair with a bit too much force. He's not taking this well.

“Allison, get your deposit back. You're not going!” He shoves the chair again. “That's final!” Crap, he's really pissed. He just stammered away to the backyard with a bottle of Gunrock lager.

Crap, what am I going to do now?

CHAPTER 01 – FINALLY MEXICO

Ahh. Allison snuggles in the puffy white duvet. Can't understand why he doesn't like Mexico. This is great.

At first, the idea of travelling

to Mexico seemed like a fun adventure, but the more she thought about it, the scarier it seemed. It would have been easy to succumb to John’s control and not go on the trip. But something was nagging at her. What it was, she didn’t know. She felt she would miss out on something big if she didn’t go.

As usual, her husband has risen early this morning. He sits on the front steps of the little stucco cottage they are renting in a coastal village near Puerto Vallarta. Sipping his coffee, he stares out into the Pacific Ocean hoping to see humpback whales.

A morning breeze blows into their bedroom. Sounds of waves from Banderas Bay soothe her like a lullaby. As the breeze blows gently, rattling the wooden slats of the window blinds, Allison snuggles further into the duvet, pulling it over her chin. Her thoughts drift to how she fingle-fangled John to agree to the trip. He had to come. It was the only way he would agree to let her go. But she didn't mind. To the contrary.

Back in Alameda Island, she had searched the internet looking for a carrot to dangle in front of his brain. It had to be a big fat delicious carrot. She found it after typing the words geology Puerto Vallarta. Turns out there was a convention held in the city ten days before her workshop. Just so happens that a world reknown Earthquake specialist was giving a talk. The convention attracted geologists from around the world. It was a who's who event in the Earth Science community. John was on cloud nine attending that convention. He still is.

She hears John shouting her name.

"An announcement just went by.”