Sourmouth

Sourmouth

Story
by Cyle James

Edited by T. Leanna James

Chapter 1

If it wasn’t for the ever present swaying that went
along with it, the ferry ride from Horseshoe Bay would have been a beautiful
one. The view was brilliantly tranquil and the Queen of
Capilano
was an unsightly but appealing ship. But as it was, the trip was a 30 minute
ride from hell to get from mainland Vancouver to Bowen Island. At least it was
for Violet, who was suffering from a ravenous bout of sea sickness that had her
doubled over to her knees in her seat. Her husband stood over her with a hand
softly sitting on her shoulder in effort to comfort her as he looked out onto
the thrashing blue waters.

Riley was a mild-looking man in his early thirties,
average in height with a small paunch underneath his grey wool sweater that
matched in
colour
to his short salt and pepper hair,
which had slowly been increasing in its sodium content over the past few years.
The only identifiable features that weren’t wholly generic-looking were his
horn-rimmed black glasses and his perfectly shaped 5 o’clock shadow facial
hair. All-in-all he was incredibly plain-looking. Riley was the background
character in the restaurant scene of a movie, the extra that you weren’t
supposed to bother noticing was even there. It was a look that had suddenly
crept up on him as he aged away from his wilder young-adult phase that seemed
like a lifetime past.

Violet on the other hand stood out, largely in
comparison to her companion. She was a few years younger than Riley, with a
personal style that showed it. In a loose fitting black rock t-shirt that hung
completely to one side exposing the opposite shoulder, and tight skinny black
jeans with stylized rips in the knees, she looked more like she was dressed for
a night in a lounge listening to music than a wife approaching middle age going
on a vacation. She had shoulder length dyed hair in various shades of pale
green, with a collection of silver earrings in her left ear. She was the
cooler, hip older sister with no younger sibling to speak of.

They were a mismatched pair that confused onlookers
wherever they went. They weren’t always such the odd couple. Riley used to be a
special effects artist for a small company in Seattle that did work on movies
filming in the area. That’s how they had met, Violet was working as a personal
assistant on the set of a horror movie that he was designing monsters for. And
for the two, it was love at first sight.

“This was a fucking mistake,” Violet groaned out
through gritted teeth, her head still tucked between her knees.

Riley pursed his lips and let out a slow gasp of air
he wasn’t aware he had been holding in, “What was?”

She tilted her head up to look at him. “This. Coming
to this place. I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to get in a
boat. I’m a landlubber only”.

He broke his line of sight of the distant British
Columbia mountain tops that had him so enraptured since they had departed from
the docks nearly 20 minutes ago. “Are you sure you don’t mean the vacation as a
whole? I’d understand if you were having second thoughts...”

She just shook her head, which was a mild mistake,
given that it only made her feel even queasier. It was just like Riley to
automatically jump to the world-ending conclusion.

Violet straightened up and ran her fingers through her
hair to straighten it back. She had to admit, the scenery was striking. Bowen
Island looked exceptionally better than even its pictures showed. The sun tore
through fluffy clouds with its heat in full fall effect, giving them a nice
warm feeling in between the gusts of cool wind that warned of a winter on the
horizon. And though she despised the rocking motion that came from it, she
actually enjoyed the sounds of the waves crashing into the hull of the ferry.

“Have you made up your mind about what you want to do
first?” she asked, trying to change the subject and give herself something else
to focus on.

He shrugged.

“Did you want me to just decide everything for the
next week? What we do? What you wear? What you eat?” she asked in irritation as
she clutched herself tightly.

He shrugged again.

Riley’s typical indifferent attitude wasn’t helping
her feel any better.

“How about we just check into the hotel and then go
from there? We’ve got plenty of time to decide,” he answered finally as he
turned back to watch the view.

Violet pushed off of her knees and stood up to stare
into the back of her husband’s head, “Because, I know you. And I know that
we’re going to get into the hotel, you’re going lay down on the bed and watch
cable for the entire day as you try to make up your mind. I would like to
actually plan something so that we might actually attempt to do it for once”.

Riley cracked his neck, which Violet recognized as one
of his passive-aggressive signs of being annoyed.

“Let’s check into the hotel and then take a look
around town. Let’s find some sort of gift shop or something to get trinkets for
your bimbo friends and then grab a bite to eat at some roach-infested diner”.

Violet just raised her eyebrows a bit, “Despite the
general attitude, I am happy that you were able to make a decision that didn’t
involve flipping a coin”.

And then they fell silent, watching as the land to
their periphery slowly etched by as they got closer and closer to their
island-paradise-to-be.

As the seconds drifted by like so many fish underneath
the ferry, it was Riley that broke first.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a bit tired from the trip. I
honestly don’t care what it is that we do. I’m not here for the extracurricular
activities, I’m here for us. I’m here for you”.

Violet’s steely resolve vanished into a small grin and
soft eyes, there was only so much energy she had to get upset with him and
frankly she had been depleting it pretty regularly over the past few months
anyway.

“I’m sorry too,” she said as she grabbed him by the
hand, “I don’t mean to be a
naggert
. I’m just a
little worried that this is all going to be a fruitless
endeavour
.
I’m worried that we’re just trying to resuscitate something that’s too far
dead”.

Riley tightened her hand in his, “It’s not going to be
fruitless. We’re going to have all of the fruit. And there’s nothing that even
needs reviving because there isn’t anything dead. And...I don’t think ‘
naggert
’ is a thing”.

Violet jokingly slapped her husband on the arm before
pulling him into a light, slightly awkward hug. Sadly the moment had to pass as
Violet was forced to throw up her breakfast over the hull of the boat just as
the ferry slowly swayed its way into the Bowen Island docks. 

#

Stepping off the Queen and into Snug Cove felt like
stepping back in time. At least it did to the two big city dwellers. While the
island was a popular getaway for the people of Vancouver during the summer
time, during the fall it was rather uninhabited. There were a few folks
stepping off the boat and venturing forth with their prior experience of the
island in pocket, but in terms of new visitors it seemed like the
Tylers
were on their lonesome.

The couple stopped in the brisk cool air to admire the
view that was so uncommon to their eyes. The sprawling canvas of emerald
coloured
trees. The intimidating mountain that continued to
rise and rise towards the sky. The walkways made of pale wood with splintered
handrails. And the one branching road that led into a small greeting area to
the North of the water.

“Somehow I don’t think there’s going to be a shuttle
service from here to the hotel,” Riley said as he adjusted one of his bags over
his shoulder to prep for the inevitable walk.

Violet started forward without him with her rolling
bags in tow, “If we follow along this path there should be a visitor’s
centre
that should be able to help us contact the car
rental center. At least that’s what the website said”.

Riley followed suit, carrying his suitcase by its
handle, occasionally scraping it against the ground as he walked.

It was only a few minutes of walking along the road to
reach the offshoot of the main street, which gave access to various small
businesses. To the right of the branching path was a mom-and-pop diner and a
bike rental hut that was closed until the spring. To the left was the library
and to the right of that was a small kiosk-like building that carried the
prestigious title of “Information Center” high above its frame.

At the shuddered window sat an older cherub looking
woman with dark skin and big poufy hair straight from the ‘80s. She wore a
heavy poncho-like dress that appeared be made of something akin to leather,
adorned with intricate patterns of flowers and birds. The woman sat lost to the
world reading what appeared to be a cheesy off the rack romance novel. 

Violet felt a little apprehensive about interrupting
people, so Riley knew to take the lead with a knock on the wood window frame.

“Excuse me,” he asked, poking his head forward over
the counter, “sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if you could help us?”

The woman folded up her book and smiled at him from
below, like a friend’s mother does when you visit their house after school for
cookies and milk.

“That depends, sweetie, what is it that you need help
with? I’m already married, just so you know not to try anything frisky...”

Violet caught the brightness in her husband’s cheeks
and had to suppress a smirk.

“Um, we’re looking to get in contact with whoever can
rent us a car. We called the rental agency previously and they said to just
phone or come by the shop when we arrived, no reservations needed,” he
explained.

The woman just smiled, her eyes darting back and forth
between the two. “You’re not from
aroun
’ here?” she asked,
assumedly meaning not from the Vancouver area.

“No. We’re from Washington,” Violet piped up.

“Oh, that’s nice,” said the woman with her hands
folded in her lap on top of her book, her smile unwavering.

And then nothing. She made no attempt to make a call.
There were no further questions as to what exactly they might need.

After a few long moments of silence it was Riley’s
patience that gave first.

“So are you able to help us with the rental center?
Give them a call maybe? We didn’t bring our cell phones with us. This is kind
of a getaway, so it would be nice if you could make the call as soon as
possible so we could get going”.

The lady’s gaze fell on him with what almost felt like
pressure, the smile never fading from her face.

“We get a lot of your type here,” she said with an
emphasis on the word ‘type’ as if it were a dirty word. “I will give them a
call and they’ll bring a car along I’m sure. If you’d be kind enough to wait
over by the library, I’m sure it won’t take more than a bit”.

The woman didn’t bother waiting for a reply before
turning her eyes back to her trashy book. Her hands nowhere near to picking up
the telephone that hung inside of the booth.

Riley cleared his throat and did his best to crack his
own smile in return, “Thanks for your help”.

It was Violet who stepped away first, feeling
particularly awkward as a bystander in their exchange.

“What the fuck was that about?” he whispered as they
proceeded to stride towards the library.

Violet made a face like she was sucking on a lemon, “I
don’t know. But now you know how I feel whenever you can’t make up your mind.
Nothing gets done unless you get angry”.

Riley faked another smile, this one even less
convincing than the one that he shined previously, “Funny girl. I can see why I
haven’t divorced you yet”.

Violet chuckled, “You haven’t divorced me because
you’re becoming a fat old man and you’d never get another piece of ass like me
unless you paid for it”.

He shrugged, “Who says I’m not paying for it now, one
way or another?”

Chapter 2

The “bit” that was quoted to them turned out to be
nearly forty minutes of waiting. Perhaps the Canadian “bit” was longer than an
American “bit”. They were sure that the fat old lady with the never ending
smirk had deliberately told the car rental people to take their sweet time. To
make matters worse, the car itself was a beat-up 1990’s sedan that looked like
it had been painted with mashed avocado and smelled like it had been sitting
out in the sun with bags of fruit in the trunk. They were assured that it was
the only car available, despite the fact that as far as they knew it they
weren’t travelling during tourist season. But, with a few signatures and a
phone call to headquarters (which was more than likely just somebody’s
basement), the car was theirs for what they hoped would be seven fun-filled
days.