Modeled after Fiesta, 1980

We like cruises. We- meaning my brother, my mother, my father, and I – go on them every chance we get. We took my grandmother once, she didn’t like it. Said she appreciated getting to see more of the world, but didn’t like the boat. She said it moved too much. I guess she meant the waves. When we first arrive at the port to “embark” on the ship, dad changes. My mother refers to it as “vacation dad”. It’s not that he’s a bad father ordinarily, he is a very good one. The best. But, “vacation dad” doesn’t worry about money. Doesn’t gripe about the fact that coke in Jamaica costs $4.50 because nobody wants to drink the water. “Vacation dad” affects mom too. She doesn’t worry about time. No be here then, do this then, say that then. Time is a construct that doesn’t follow us on the ship. This is a good thing, as time so regularly follows us in our daily lives. When we first board the ship, my mother and father, with their newly changed attitudes and perspectives, retreat to their cabin. My brother and I are left with two choices. Explore the ship or unpack. We always explore the ship. It is never very different from the last ship or the next ship, but we ooh and aah nonetheless. Last time, when my grandmother was with us, I left my brother with her. I went to the pool deck and laid out on a chair in exactly what I had on when I boarded the boat. Remember – we don’t unpack first. I laid in that chair for two hours and read. I don’t know what book. I read many books. I do remember getting up. My skin crinkling under the sunburn, bright red and itchy for weeks. A reminder of what happens when one is selfish and pawns off their younger brother the first chance they get.