The Sweet Horizon

Ch 2: The Odd-Looking Gent

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When Will turned twenty-one, he was able to tap into a modest trust fund his mother had secured in his name. It provided the means for Will to move to Seattle and become a freshman at the University of Washington.

Will stepped off the plane and peered out the windows of SeaTac Airport. The skies were gray. He said to himself, smiling, "I guess I couldn't stay too far away from clouds and drizzle. They must be in my blood."

Will signed up for a standard slate of classes. He secured a place to live, rooming with two gay men in a three-room duplex in Ballard. His roommates threw many fun parties. However, Will worked long hours at a liquor store, so he was rarely able to attend one. When he was able to be home during one of Todd and Christopher's colorful events, the straight girls fancied him because of his 'adorable accent'. However, he was so shy, no girl was ever able to get past polite party conversation with him.

The liquor store, just off of University Boulevard on 145th Street, was called 'The 18th Hole'. The students branded it, 'The Hole'. It was not especially clean, but it was well stocked with beer, spirits, and cheap wine.

Will discovered that one learns a lot while working at a liquor store one might rather not know about the world. When he opened the store at 11am on Saturdays, older men in ratty clothing would be waiting in the alley. When he worked evenings, Monday through Friday, he would hear frat boys bragging about getting enough shots of liquor into a girl in order to 'get down her pants'. Will, already reticent, dissociated himself with the clientele of The Hole.

Although Will came charging full of wanderlust to the shores of America, he was uncertain of his plans. What should be his major? He loved art and spent as many hours as possible dreaming up new creations, although he rarely had the time to finish any of them. One afternoon, after his chemistry class, Will sat on the edge of a large fountain located between the chemistry and physics buildings, and he pondered his future. Thinking about all the characters passing through The Hole he spontaneously spoke aloud, "Perhaps I should consider majoring in psychology. I endure a daily onslaught of perfect case studies."

A young lady walking past him, smiled; she almost laughed a little, to hear him talking to himself. Will blushed and tried to smile. She giggled as she continued on up the stairs that led to the Quad, a courtyard of four large buildings at the heart of the campus.

On one unusually sunny day in September, Will shuffled down a hill by the marina to watch the boats passing in the canal between Lake Union and Lake Washington. It was peaceful watching the boats float by at the end of their day's frolic. The names of the boats were as entertaining as watching the sun sink slowly, glimmering over the water.

There was a huge yacht named 'Party Time II', a smaller yacht with blue trim named 'The Duchess of Earl', a fifteen-foot speed boat named 'Flipper', and a graceful, fifty-foot sailboat named 'The Sweet Horizon'. Will sat, watching the boats, until near sunset. He looked down at his watch.

"Shit! I need to get to The Hole."

He worked until closing, but he was also required to open the next morning. He was tired and edgy. He wore his purple and gold 'Huskies' sweatshirt in honor of the game he would not be able to attend – The UW Huskies vs. the University of Florida Gators. Just before halftime, the Gators quarterback fumbled, and a freshman Husky running back ran sixty yards, completing a touchdown. Will just missed the moment because he was finishing a transaction with an elderly woman buying an unimpressive bottle of white wine. She slowly – and tediously – counted out $4.37 in quarters, dimes and pennies.

Will 'cheered', mocking in monotone, "Go team." He mumbled under his breath, "Why do I have to work *every* Saturday?"

He glanced up to watch the replays, and he heard the jingle of the door as the elderly lady exited The 18th Hole. When he looked up a moment later, he was shocked to see a very strangely dressed man, who must have slipped in at the same time the old woman left.

The stranger was about 5'10'' with dark eyes and a significant tan. A tan in Seattle was rarely natural and always conspicuous. If that wasn't enough, the man's hair sported dreadlocks, beads, strands of ribbon, and it was tied back with a red bandana.

"Oh, Jesus," Will said to himself, "This guy's either a drag queen or another African-American wanna-be." Then, he was amused. "I should *definitely* major in psychology," he thought.

Will pretended to be watching the game while stealing glances at the stranger. He wanted to make sure the man didn't try to shoplift or that he wasn't attempting a heist. Mr. Brown would have Will's throat if he 'allowed' the store to be robbed.

The stranger swirled around suddenly and barked, "No Tortuga?"

Will furrowed his brow trying to figure out what the guy was talking about. The stranger, having been born in the Cayman Islands, was accustomed to this rich blend of Jamaican and Bajan rums.

Then, Will recognized the reference and responded, "Oh, this is a college student's liquor store primarily, dude. If you want imports you'll have to go across the lake," he gestured sarcastically to the east.

The stranger glared at Will and eventually settled on a pint of Bacardi Gold. As the odd looking gent sort of staggered up to the counter, Will smiled thinking about what his roommates Todd and Christopher might say. Todd would say, 'He's so unusual, he's charming', but Christopher might taunt, 'Oh, his brown eyes are scrumptious, but he could use a serious fashion make-over'. Will snickered to himself. The stranger appeared to be annoyed.

Will cleared his throat nervously, "Will this be cash or charge?"

The stranger looked amused, and he pulled out a roll of bills. Will became uneasy. The guy might be a pimp or a drug pusher. The stranger noticed Will's less-than-flattering shocked expression and responded, as if reading Will's mind. "I clean ships down at the marina, and I give sailing lessons to dot com millionaires and their brats, if they be old enough to have children of age." He shuffled slowly through his bills, and then he looked up, his eyes flaring with intensity. "I insist they pay me in cash, savvy?"

Will was caught off guard. He wasn't sure if he should laugh or run. "Savvy?" he thought. "Is this guy for real? He's either very uneducated or a total nutcase or both."

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Little did Will Turner know how much this odd stranger would change his life.

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reviews please. (smile) . . . savvy?