The Sea Grape Tree by Gillian Royes

dead.”
    â€œTri,” Roper said with a big smile, “tell Miss Olive I stop by her house next week.” The artist switched from Standard English to Jamaican dialect without batting an eye, something that made Sarah now appreciate why Sonja (whom she’d been pitying) might want to be with him.
    Ford inquired about the island a few hundred yards out, its ruins bathed in the orange-gold light of sunset.
    â€œThat’s where the old Largo Bay Inn was,” Sonja answered. “A woman was living out there by herself last summer. It caused quite a commotion.”
    â€œWhy was she there?” Sarah asked.
    â€œShe wanted to be alone, I guess. I never met her, but—but I always admired her. It takes a lot of guts for a woman to do that in Jamaica.”
    A tall, middle-aged man with a shock of platinum hair approached the table and Roper introduced him as Eric, the owner of both the old hotel and the bar. For a bar owner, Sarah thought, he seemed odd, even shy, perhaps an introvert like herself. Blushing, pulling back his hair, the American asked if they were staying for dinner and Roper said yes. Shad took their order and the four were left to wait, commenting on the streaks of color filling the sky. The bar’s lights were turned on, including a string of blinking white bulbs under the bar’s counter, and the crowd grew by a few more tables.
    Ford turned to Sarah. “Not exactly a London pub, is it?”
    She liked that he knew a lot about England from his frequent trips, and she’d already promised to attend his next performance in London. Penny would encourage her to sleep with him, no doubt, but it was enough for Sarah that Ford was her friend, an admired musician and her first black friend, and she was looking forward to introducing him to Penny as exactly that.
    Dinner came with Roper sucking on goat bones, Ford and Sonja on chicken bones, and Sarah using a knife and fork to separate the bones from her snapper. When the dishes had been cleared away, Eric approached again.
    â€œMind if I join you?” he asked with a hangdog expression, like he needed the company.
    â€œHave a seat,” Sonja said. The bar owner sat down heavily between Sarah and Ford.
    â€œHow is the new hotel coming?” Roper said. “Lambert told me the investor guy was down.”
    â€œHe just came in,” Eric replied. “I’ll introduce you.” He waved Shad over and said something to him.
    Shortly after, four people approached the table with drinks in their hands. In the lead was a couple: a man Eric introduced as the investor, Danny Caines, and a plump woman named Janet wearing a bright floral dress. Two men, who looked to be in their forties, trailed behind them. They were friends he’d made in Ocho Rios, Caines said, and they were visiting Largo for the evening. One of them, Alphonsus, a man with an imposing belly, wore a large gold necklace with a cross, and the other, Emile, was a slim, intense man in a busy gray shirt. The two men stood a step behind the couple and soon moved back to the bar.
    By far the most imposing member of the group, Danny Caines carried himself like a man who was proud of who he was. He wasn’t handsome, but he had strong features, and his bald head made Sarah think of gangster films with villains who were really good guys. And there was something about his complexion that stayed with her, a deep brown with a hint of auburn, like old blood.
    The woman with him, Janet, smiled broadly at everyone and sat down, keeping her knees tightly together. Caines shook hands with everyone at the table and, for a long time after, Sarah could feel the warmth of his large hand wrapped around hers, see the eyes, soft gray like a dove’s breast, eyes that beamed straight into hers before they blinked. She’d never known that a black man could have gray eyes and, embarrassed, she looked away even before he moved on to shake Ford’s hand.
    Two