Chapter 1

It was everything I had dreamed of. Almost.

My wife and I had talked for years about quitting work early, and moving somewhere warm, just the two of us. We had read all of those articles about Americans retiring comfortably in Belize, and it sounded like just what we had in mind. Neither Sara nor I had any family left, to speak of, so the thought of striking off on our own was no problem at all.

We had put things in motion, looking into the real estate market down there, and soon we found what we were after ... an affordable little bungalow on the coast, with its own private stretch of deserted beach. Excited, we put in an offer, and suddenly we found ourselves with a firm closing date. We started getting everything in order for our retirement (neither of us was terribly old, we wanted to do it early enough that we could still enjoy life), and suddenly everything started falling into place.

Nobody could have known that a drunk driver was going to run a red light, hitting Sara's car in a high-speed T-bone, as she drove home on her last day of work. It crushed her rib cage, snapped her neck, and killed her instantly.

So now, here I was, in a tropical paradise, and nobody to share it with. The last several days were a complete blur of Sara's funeral, the movers coming, a long drive south, deep into Latin America ... The movers had arrived early my first morning here, with all of our furniture and stuff, and had swiftly loaded it all in, with minimal help from me, and now they had gone.

I looked around the now-quiet little house, full of shrouded furniture and sealed boxes, and suddenly I felt very alone. I could almost hear Sara's cheerful voice, talking about rolling up our sleeves and getting to it, and my eyes started to well up. I could use a hand right about now, I thought, wiping away the tear that started to roll down my cheek.

But help was not coming. I had to tackle this on my own. Doggedly, I threw myself into uncovering the furniture, and shoving it into something like a proper arrangement. That began to make it feel more like a home, which helped, and as my eyes dried, things moved along easier. I managed to get the boxes consolidated into out-of-the-way spaces, and even unpacked a few of them...

... by early evening, I was tired. It was hot, and I was sweating. Mental note: must check the air-conditioning this evening. Right now, though, I wanted nothing more than to jump into that water and cool off. So I went to the front of the house, which had an open deck, and down the steps to the sand. My clothes were mostly packed yet, so I had no intention of trying to find a suit -- after all, there was not another soul in sight, anyway -- so as I crossed the sand, I tossed my clothes behind me, reaching the water butt-naked. I walked out to about thigh-deep, and then just flopped into the water back-first, letting its warm saltiness wash over me.