The Road to Happiness Is Always Under Construction by Linda Gray

Author:Linda Gray
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Regan Arts.

DETOURS HAPPEN

Sometime in the late ’80s, Larry, his wife, Maj, and I were on our way to Australia to promote Dallas and we stopped in Bora Bora for a few days. We stayed in little huts built on stilts over the ocean. You could wake up, walk outside your room, and dive right into the ocean to swim with manta rays and sea turtles. It was absolute paradise. If I had a boyfriend, it would have been the most romantic weekend of my life. But as usual, I was the third wheel with Larry and Maj.

We had a driver, a very pretty young man who I’ll call Keanu. So Keanu came down the plank to my hut to pick me up. He was bashful and embarrassed; I wondered if silky-haired Keanu was smitten with me. We collected Larry and Maj, and went to a reception that the mayor of Bora Bora was hosting for us.

Larry noticed that Keanu was missing a finger. “Hey, Keanu. What happened to your hand?” he asked.

“On the island, if you sleep with somebody else’s wife, they cut off one of your fingers,” he said, and then made eye contact with me in the rear view window.

I tried to imagine being passionate enough about someone to risk a finger to have an affair, and how stupid you’d be to get caught. Not a turn on. Oh, well. No tropical fling with Keanu for me.

We were dressed to the nines. The requested dress code was island chic, preferably bright or white. I wore a gauzy white halter dress. If I so much as looked at a spec of dust, it’d show. Maj wore a flowing white dress and Larry was in a blindingly bright white linen suit.

The party itself was fine. A cocktail and hors d’oeuvre kind of thing. The three of us stood in the center of the room, meeting and greeting, carefully sipping fruity rum drinks.

Keanu waited by the car for two hours until we left. With only hors d’oeuvres in our bellies, we asked him for a recommendation to a restaurant or a beach shack, anything so we could get a bite to eat.

He said, “I know just the place.”

We got about three miles when a tire blew, and the car careened off the dirt road and into the ditch. It was dark, no streetlights. The car—a little, junky two-door that had to be fifteen years old—was tilted at an angle with only three wheels touching the ground.

“Everyone okay?” asked Keanu.

We were fine, just a little shaken up.

Keanu tried to drive us out of the gulley. The car lurched forward, but unless we could get that last tire on the ground, we were stuck. He said, “No problem! I’ll take care of it.” His plan was to go back to the party and get help. He ran back the way we came, and was swallowed up by the dark in seconds, leaving us on the side of the road.

We had no idea where we were and it was pitch black out.

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