Her canoe was paddled by a small man who spoke very little. Her long blue cotton dress was wet and dirtied at the bottom from the leaking boat. Her gloves were as soiled as the dress, and her delicate white face was dusted tree pollen from the island. She had no idea that this little island her husband had described was so far from the mainland. The closer the boat rowed toward the island, the more scared Margot became. She had hardly traveled beyond her own home in South Carolina for the last ten years. She had been twenty when she met William, and only six months later they were married. His family was rich, and hers was not. She married because she loved him, or atleast the man he portrayed himself to be at the time. Her next ten years with him included many nights alone waiting for him to return from drinking all night. He spent little time working for his father and spent less time trying to be a husband to Margot. His wild ways were not uncommon in the South.
She stepped foot on the soggy island turf and considered jumping back into the boat. She thought about her sunny room with an ocean view while looking at the low hanging trees surrounding this densely forested island. Why had her husband left her this mess? He said in his journal that there was a small house inland and he had meant to have it redone as a vacation home for them. She left the boatman with his fee and he promised to return the next morning with supplies and more food. For now, Margot had a carpet bag full of cleaning supply and a small supply of bread and cheese wrapped in her handbag for later. As she walked a grown over path from the water’s edge toward an unknown home, she thought of her father-in-laws last comment to her the day before. “Don’t come back Margot. If you are smart, you will never return here.”
sherrystruthtofiction 