May Day in Morocco by Stephanie Taylor

Author:Stephanie Taylor
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stephanie Taylor

Chapter 8

May 3

Casablanca

The train ride from Marrakech to Casablanca had taken about two and a half hours, and the car filled with The Holiday Adventure Club was merry and full of good cheer. It was obvious that a knot of travelers had banded together and brought flasks or mini bottles of liquor which they were furtively passing around, despite the general sentiment in Morocco about drinking in public places. But no one was out of hand, and the most disruptive thing anyone did was start a quiet singalong of 60s songs, so it was easy for Corbin to look out the window and watch the scenery streak by.

Their new riad in Casablanca was similar in design to the one in Marrakech, but rather than a shallow pool in the courtyard that the guest rooms were built around, the open area had a smooth brick patio filled with lush, full-grown trees.There were chirping birds, and circular tables sprinkled around for people to sit at and sip coffee and read the morning paper. The walls of the building itself had inlays of small, dizzyingly geometric colored tiles, perfect stone arches, and tall wooden doors painted a glossy lipstick red. Everywhere Lucy looked, there were small pieces of art, beautiful carvings and stone statues, and bright pops of red. Where the first riad had been spa-like and soothing, this one was artsy and exotic.

Corbin put his things away in the room next to Nishelle’s. Jander was on the other side of her, and he’d disappeared inside right away with parting words about needing a quick nap.

“Nish?” Corbin said softly, knocking on her red door with just his knuckles. Since the rooms ringed the empty courtyard, he knew his words would carry and he didn’t want to disturb anyone in the throes of a midday nap. “You awake?” He was about to turn back and go to his room, thinking that he should have just texted her, when her door opened.

“Hi, Dad. What’s up? Wanna come in?”

Corbin peered over her shoulder; her room was the same as his, with its four poster canopy bed draped in sheer netting. The bed was covered in a red-striped duvet and piled high with red silk pillows, and the bedside lamps had red shades and mirrored mosaic bases.

“I was actually thinking of an afternoon coffee. Would you join me while your brother naps? We can text him and tell him where we are in case he wakes up and wants to meet us.”

“Sure,” Nishelle said, leaving her dad standing there while she walked over to the small sitting area where she’d kicked off her shoes and dropped her bags. She found her purse and slung it across her body. “Let’s go.”

The streets around the riad looked like a mash-up of so many of the big cities that Corbin had been to: some of the buildings reminded him of San Francisco; the palm trees felt like Miami; here and there the architecture felt Parisian or Tuscan. Or maybe it was his mind searching for meaning and order in the things around him.

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