“You can’t write books about Galveston if you don’t live here,” Ronnie said laughing as I was enjoying my fish soup. The fish soup tasted like Maceo’s and we were sitting outside where the Island breeze made sure we were properly sanitized and the sun replenished our Vitamin D. Though I think the fish soup alone probably was as strong a virus-fighting potion as any.
“Well, if I sell lots of books in Galveston, I might just have to move back,” I said. I was so happy I came down. The Island, with its usual tranquility and relaxed vibe was a great antidote to the general anxiety of the world right now.
I’d brought Ronnie a face shield. Ronnie ain’t gonna wear no face shield, but it was nice giving it to him, as a symbol of my wish for him to be protected. I also did a little magic thing and coated him in white light. But what with the sunshine and salt air and his mastery of spices, Ronnie probably doesn’t need that either. Still, it can’t hurt. And he said he’ll let the cashier have the face shield. Although he did have plexiglass installed for her.
It’s weird out there, but perhaps more normal than most places on the Island. The only truly disconcerting thing were the doors of the Tremont House, my favorite hotel, locked with a chain. I sure hope they reopen.
Other than that, my friend and I walked around and saw lots of positive signs of life. Restaurants with tables outside, many pelicans flying above, and Mary Star of the Sea in the church parking lot all beautifully restored, her golden crown shining, ready to go back up on her perch on top of the Basilica and protect the Island.
Also, I really really love my car. I had forgotten how fun it is to drive fast with loud music. I feel like I have all these powerful horses and I’d forgotten to take them out of their stable for a while.