Rebecca DeGrass turned and gave Dottie a big hug along with "We
did it!" -- referencing the promise they made to each other
years ago in college.
"Okay, ladies. You're holding up traffic," a sarcastic nudge
from Dottie's husband, Paul.
"Yeah, we're only on the island for two days," Jack, Rebecca's
husband, chimed in. "And there's beer and beach awaitin'."
The couples zigzagged their way down the gangway, approaching a
throng of taxis jostling for position -- all eager to take the
hundreds of shoregoers to various destinations on the island.
Xavier Malbo, driving a well-traveled minivan with the letters
"Sunshine Aruba Taxi" on the side and a "One Happy Island"
bumper sticker barely covering a hefty scratch on the sliding
door, eyed the moving queue. Spotting an appropriate fare, with
professional deft he squeezed the minivan between two other
taxis, intersecting the path of Dottie and her friends.
"Bon Bini!" Malbo greeted the four through the open passenger
window. "May I be of service?"
Rebecca replied, "Bon Bini!" -- as she recalled from her Fodor's
guide that the phrase meant a combination of "hello" and
"welcome" in Papiamento, the local language.
"Me and my friends would like to go to 'Baby Beach' for some sun
and snorkeling. Could you take us there?"
"Sure!"
Malbo bounded out of driver's seat and met the four at the
sliding door -- opened it and helped the foursome get into the
seats. Each passenger clutched small day bags that they placed
on their laps.
Malbo slid the minivan door closed and sprung back into the driver's
seat. "Baby Beach it is," he reaffirmed while darting his
vehicle into the flow of traffic.
The four were almost giddy at the adventure they knew awaited
them. Dottie and Rebecca hatched the Aruba idea almost as a joke
while they were both studying for finals in their senior year of
college. "If we can ever get through this friggin' exam," Rebecca
said then, "let's blow off steam and go to...Aruba." They both
chuckled at the notion, but it stuck.
Dottie and Rebecca aced the exam. And they both graduated. The
two received a BS in Microbiology from the University of
Minnesota. But life interceded in their fledgling Aruba plans.
Rebecca met Jack at her first job. They dated. And a
year-and-a-half later got married.
Dottie was already seeing Paul at the university. They were
together since sophomore year. And they got married less than a
year after graduation.
The four regularly went on long-weekend trips together. But the
years went by. Now over eight. Business for these young
professionals was demanding on their time, and they could never
seem to wangle a ten-day vacation stretch that would synchronize
with their careers. Until now. And the first stop on their multi-island trek: Aruba.
"How far to Baby Beach?' Paul asked the cabbie.
"Only about eight kilometers," Malbo responded. "We'll be there in
about 15 minutes." He continued, "Fortunately, I know a shortcut
that will get around some of the traffic. It might be a little
bumpy. Not all of Aruba's roads are paved." With a wide grin, he
concluded, "But you'll be in the water in no time."
Rebecca unconsciously crinkled her brow, as she thought she read
in Fodor's that Baby Beach was a bit further from the
cruise-ship dock than that. But then she smiled to herself as
the local was shaving off distance and time with his shortcut.
The four looked out the windows, absorbing their surroundings.
Cars, shops, palm trees. They were taking it all on with glee.
As promised, Malbo turned onto a dirt road, which indeed got a
bit jarring.
"Sorry for the bumps!" Malbo apologetically said. "Almost there.
Just another five minutes."
The landscape became scruffy short plants and some cacti. The
passengers could sense, though, that they were still generally following
the coastline somewhere off to the right. Instinctively, they
craned their necks in that direction.
"Baby Beach is just up ahead. But that last pothole is making
the front end of my ol' baby a bit swervy. Nothing to be
concerned about. But I do want to check it for one second."
At that, Malbo quickly slowed down and pulled to the side. He
shut off the engine.
The cabbie popped out of the minivan, got on his knees and
looked under the front end. A moment later, Jack slid the
minivan door open, stepped out of the vehicle and said, "Glad to
take a look with you, too. I like working on cars with my
father. He's a mechanic."
Malbo didn't respond, seemingly engrossed with his analysis.
The other three looked at each other, a bit puzzled. This is not
how they expected their beach trek to begin.
With the blazing Aruba sun beating down, it
only took a few minutes before the minivan started to get
uncomfortably hot.
"Let's see what Jack's up to," Rebecca said. "He's a wiz with
cars."
"He might have to use a coconut for a wheel to get us going,"
Dottie said with a bit of fun as the three put their day bags on
the seats and got out of the vehicle. They made their way to the
front next to Jack.
Still with his head under the front end of the vehicle, Malbo
said to himself, "I love it when a plan comes together."
Counting four pairs of feet, he came out from under the minivan
and stood in front of the two couples.
"What do you think, sir?" Paul politely asked. "Do you think we
can still make it to the water?"
"Oh, most definitely, my friends."
At that moment, Malbo reached his right hand into the deep lower
pocket of his cargo shorts. With lightning blur he pulled out a
silencer-equipped SIG SAUER P229, and -- before the four had even
a millisecond to react -- placed a bullet...pifft...pifft...pifft...pifft...into
the foreheads of each of the travelers.