June 3rd, 2018 by Patrick Starks 

It had been only a couple of years since I left home. Yet, here I stand in a room of which use to be my boy cave. It feels like I never left. And mom and dad without a doubt were probably what I would define as the best parents on the planet, but let’s be honest, most of us say that about our parents, know.

And what more could a little boy, or girl, ask for—loving parents that is. It had been years since then, but still, I remember it clear as sun-filled oceans, and the tide would never be too high for me to see beyond its golden horizons. Yes, the smell of the sea—the smell of which always brings back beautiful memories—to us all.

Flight Thirty-one B it was.  Ready to onboard the passengers, as we were ready to onboard it—and a couple of shots of Jim Bean would make it just that easy to do so. Liquid courage burned down our fragile throats, along with the dizziness of forgetfulness. However, it was that very courage where many of us would have many regrets. But I am not one to assume. I’ll let you all tell your own story through the comments if you wish.

“All aboard!” yelled the woman with the fedora. No, sorry, it was a pirate hat. But can we all agree that pirate hats don’t obtain feathers, and if so, poor Parrot. But that too is another story to tell.

Nevertheless, I could tell that the woman was, in fact, a pirate groupie, but not because of the hat, or whatever it was—only the name of Johnny Debb was enough to give off the idea of this. Someone should have informed her that we weren’t onboarding a ship, but a plane, if she even understood the difference. But I would assume whatever job one applies for, that they would know all about it if not more. Yet, I am saddened to admit common sense is now a forgotten art in the wisp of this shameful era we live.

But let me rewind a bit so that you all don’t have a fit…

At that moment, arms would wrap around me like spaghetti to a fork. And it was always mom that would have her ways of making me look like such a dork—especially, in front of pretty girls, or women for that matter. And more than mom, Dad, of course, had his phobia of airplanes as he refused to ever get on one. His favorite quote as I am sure many of you have heard from those afraid of heights:

“If God wanted us to fly, then he would have given us wings.”

Yeah, I know, right. Sounds like something out of a Redbull commercial, or something Rockstar or Full Throttle would say to knock them off the leaderboard at least.  But neither of the three are good for our bodies. Yet, here I sit writing this letter to you all downing a shot of Bacardi—it would not be false to call me a hypocrite—no shame here.

Sooner or later I would finally be on my way to Hawaii. And I’ll just let your imagination determine where in Hawaii I landed, agreed? This is your adventure too, is it not?

And being so young, and in my prime, love was never really on my mind as many who go to Hawaii think of this. Although, after a few heartbreaks anyone would feel that way—emotionless, and pale as a vampire. Or do vampires sparkle now? Never mind.

But only adventure rattled in my heart, and it was an adventure that I hoped to find as many of us seek until the day we die. I wanted to be known for something, I wanted to be one of the greats, like Michael Jackson or something—to be legendary. And word around town was that there was someone known as the “Rose,” who could get me there. I had no talents at all. But many had said that they had gone to this Rose and found their talents from within. Even Oprah herself had spoken of this, and what the Rose had done—how could anyone refuse to look for such. The only thing I worried was that I knew that it wouldn’t be cheap if celebrities had gone to this mysterious person. But I had my ways of persuasion.

Rosie, was actually her name when we met. And her cheeks were just that if your wondering. But for whatever reason, she preferred to go as the Rose. I had only been in Hawaii for just a few days. And for at least three days straight I searched for this so-called “Rose.” And out of it all, I would find the little mermaid.

She was at least four-foot-ten, but her boots made up for it. And don’t get me started on why anyone would wear boots in Hawaii, but this is what she wore. Her eyes sparkled just as the Pacific, and her skin was as caramel as the sand I walked. Many men would have melt in the presence of such, but not me, adventure was still at hand you see. And no matter how much the bulge in my pants said otherwise, I was not that kind of man… I, was not that kind of man—I only thought with my heart and soul.

“So… Are you just going to stare at me all day like some pervert?” she asked. “Or are you going to tell me your name?”

She looked frustrated, but her gorgeousness hid it well. I froze. And became as most men do in front of such a siren—speechless.

“Ok… Then at least tell me why you are here,” she asked.

And just before I could answer, soft hands gifted me comfort as they pulled me like any mother would do their child. And within just a few seconds, Rosie had pulled me to her breast. I mean, her chest… It all felt like a dream, nothing but her lips that is, and my nose would become hypnotized by the scent of them.

Without hesitation, she pulled away from me and looked around as if she’d seen a ghost. Was it my breath? No, I promise I had at least two sticks of Trident plus the one still in my mouth. Bad breathe was impossible.

“Sorry about that. But y-you shouldn’t be here. This place is dangerous,” said Rosie. “Lots of bad men come here to find treasures.”

Beady eyes lingered from the shadows. She wasn’t kidding, bad men were all around. But none were as bad as this Blue belt in Taekwondo. It’s not a black belt, but hey, should be enough to take down any average man right? Hopefully, they say go, before we start.

“Look I don’t do that anymore,” Said Rosie. “I’m retired.”

I pleaded with her. She didn’t look a day over twenty-five after all. Surely, she could squeeze in just one more adventure. Her eyes drew into the floor, and her breathing became still. I could tell that it had been lingering within her beautiful forehead for quite some time—she needed just one more—one more adventure. It was apparent that she still was searching for something as well. But what?

Before I knew it, we were on our way to the promise land. And little did I know, there would be no promises.

“There!” yelled Rosie. “There is where we start.”

And it was there we eventually stood. One of the largest mountains I’d ever seen.  Yet, it was no secret at all that I had guessed it right—it was a volcano.

One would think me crazy or a liar to say I had explored the ring of fire. But my friends, this I conquered as Rosie and I had traveled even further than Hawaii. It was glorious. I had become more of a man than I had ever been known to become. I now had a full beard, which Rosie always hinted I should cut off or clean. She rescheduled appointments on numerous occasions, expecting me to someday go to her beautician, but still to this day I have not. On my skin were tattooed battle scars to show the mates when I returned home, just how much of a man I had become. And of course, I would get laughed out of the room—they just didn’t believe it.

And still, no talent did I find on my adventure. I’m not even sure if that was the point of it from the get-go. Yet, I had found love. I had found my ring, I had found Rosie.