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Will His Love Be Like His Rum?
Will His Love Be Like His Rum?
Will His Love Be Like His Rum?
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Will His Love Be Like His Rum?

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Love, lust and loss, sex and skullduggery, conquests, failures, foibles – these are the elements of calypso, the stories in song that personify the islands of the West Indies. The three stories in this volume deal with love in the Caribbean -- young love, mature love, and love for the juice from the sweet sugar cane.

“Please, oh please,” Caterina sobbed as she sat cross-legged in front of the closet, speaking to its door. This was her wedding night, her night of nights, but her new husband has serious wedding night jitters and has locked himself in that closet. Can she coax him out and to their wedding bed? Will his love be like his rum, intoxicating all night long? Or will that closet door stay locked?
Also in this volume: Island in the Sun They told Santo his olive tree would never thrive in the islands but didn’t he prove them wrong. Sweet Sugar Cane A cautionary tale about how a business transaction can go awry when it involves lots of rum.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMay 3, 2011
ISBN9781466187177
Will His Love Be Like His Rum?
Author

Richard Daybell

Richard Daybell has been a writer/editor for most of his adult life, working at various times for a public library, a multinational corporation, a university, and state government. With his wife Linda, he also spent seven years as owner/chef of Churchill House Inn, a nine-room country inn in central Vermont.His short stories and short humor have appeared in regional, national and international commercial publications including American Way and Hemispheres, the inflight magazines for American Airlines and United Airlines, The New York Times, Buffalo Spree, Salt Lake City Magazine, and Tampa Tribune Fiction Quarterly as well as such literary magazines as Rosebud and Dandelion.Richard and Linda are now living in Lincoln, Vermont.

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    Book preview

    Will His Love Be Like His Rum? - Richard Daybell

    Will His Love Be Like His Rum?

    By Richard Daybell

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright 2016 Richard Daybell

    Island in the Sun

    Have sense, Santo, said Max-Anthony, the engineer. You are only delaying the inevitable.

    It is inevitable that my tree should grow, answered Santo, refusing to budge from where he stood in front of his tree. Grow to maturity and bear fruit.

    Santo was quite proud of his tree. It was the only such tree on the entire island. People told him an olive tree would not grow here. Actually, they told him that it might grow very well, but that without chilly nights, it would never produce olives, just leaves. Santo didn't believe them. His tree had been growing for two years now, and it was a handsome tree. Such a handsome tree was bound to grow olives.

    The tree was as tall as his three-year-old son. He wondered which of the two would grow faster, but now he would never know because Claudine had taken his son, had left him and returned to Provence. Now he had only the olive tree.

    You're a fool, Santo, said Max-Anthony, a man with little patience. This hotel will be good for the island. It will create many jobs. Perhaps a job for you.

    I do not need a job, said Santo. I have retired.

    He had brought the olive tree here from Provence when it was just a tiny sapling. He had kept it hidden because it was probably an illegal thing to do. Did that make him a smuggler? Provence was a very pretty place, a place he had liked very much. And he had particularly loved the olive groves. It was under the canopy of an olive tree, that he and Claudine had spent their first time together. They delighted in the imperfection of its twisted trunk, the way the light played through it's shivering gray-green leaves, creating impressionistic patterns of light on the ground beside them. Their son had been conceived under that tree.

    Pulled by the strings of young love – Claudine was young, Santo not so young – she had agreed that the three of them could return to the island, to the village of Santo's parents and grandparents, to that stretch of beach that had for a hundred

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