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The Last Resort
Janet Fremont
For Rod Serling who set the standards.
A small motel appeared on their left and then disappeared as they drove on by. Actually it looked to be more than just a motel. There appeared to be a couple of dining rooms with a great expanse of tall glass windows each looking out to the shoreline with its sand beach. There was also a large swimming pool visible inside an expansive glass wall. The beach was empty now in early October but there were still a number of cars in the facility parking lot and a number of bathing suit clad bodies were visible through the glass wall around the indoor pool. They had already passed several motels billing themselves as "resorts." This one had a sign proclaiming "Silver Sands Resort."
"Still a bit to go," the woman in the right seat commented as she looked at the printed pages she was holding. "It's suppose to be the last resort on this road. In fact it looks like the road ends there." Sharon Dixon had gray hair, not too surprising as she was some ninety-two years old. Still, she had a very pretty face and it was easy to see that she would have been quite a beauty when she was younger, her eyes still a bright, nearly shining blue. She was still slim and her face and figure, while carrying the lines of a long life, were still more firm and smooth than might be expected.
In the left seat her husband, Bob, ninety-three himself and also with blue eyes, presented a tall figure, his hair silver, but with the lines of long experience also showing on his face. But in addition there was also a slight look of either actual pain or, more probably, the apprehension of sudden unexpected pain. He glanced towards her. "The last resort. Probably in more ways than one. At least for us." A look of sadness flashed fleetingly over both of their faces.
Sharon immediately said, "Bob, we don't know that. Remember they said that with this new drug you might go into remission. And, for that matter, my heart might go on working for some time yet."
With a sardonic smile he replied, "True, but that's probably not the way to bet." Both knew that he was referring to the old quote from Damon Runyon: "The fight is not always to the strong or the race to the fleet. But that's the way to bet."
His wife returned his look with a similar smile. Then she took a deep breath and said, "Maybe not, but sometimes the unexpected happens. Anyway we agreed to try not to think about such things this trip. We want to make this one more happy memory, don't we?"
His smile was more sincere this time. "Yes, especially since we probably won't be making many more of these trips." She started to say something to object but he quickly added, "No matter what happens we're not immortal. And we do have a lot of good trips to remember."
"Not to mention a lot of other good things to remember, Lover," Sharon replied with a better smile of her own.
For long seconds they remained quiet and then Sharon said, "Like that trip the second year we were married."
Bob almost laughed. "Yeah, that was some trip."
The first two years they had been married the economy had not been good. Jobs were hard to come by and both had only managed temporary work for over a year. Money was very tight and that meant that they had had no time or funds for much of anything except work. Certainly no real vacations. Then within a month each had found a full time position and after eight months of work they had accumulated enough vacation time and saved just enough money for a two week trip. Neither had ever been to the Rockies and now they planned to finally see these mountains, even though the amount they could spend would make for a very tight trip.
Their car was ten years old but they thought it would be OK for this. After the first day they found they were wrong. A full day plus half
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Email: janetfremont@gmail.com
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