Wednesday's Words on a Friday
The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles.
The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along and read it.
This week's words are actually two photographic images which I have included in my story::
As they left Jack’s office, Harry and Eleanor decided that since they had the rest of the day on their hands, perhaps they’d have a look at this “Shark Cove” place themselves. They asked directions from the desk clerk who gave them a map and pointed out the turns to make along the main roads. It didn’t look so far away, only four inches on the map, but that would translate into at least an hour or two by car. Harry studied the map and declared the place to be closer to their home than to the town they were currently in.
“It might be nice to wander around near the beach, it will take our minds off that skeleton for a while.” “You’re right,” said Eleanor, and off they went. They filled up with petrol before turning on to the main highway and heading east. The flat road soon began threading through low hills that became higher as they neared the coast. Rounding a bend, they spied high cliffs over on their right, with a very small town almost directly below them. Harry shifted to a lower gear to make the descent while saying “The other entrance to the town looks less steep, see it over that way? Perhaps we should go that way next time.” “I see it,” said Eleanor, “but this way is closer and far prettier with the cliffs and that long pier stretching out into the cove. I wonder why it is named Shark Cove? Do you suppose there are sharks in those waters?”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” said Harry, as they drove into the main street of the town. “Look at those lovely old-fashioned street lights! There’s one with seagulls on it, see there?”
“Probably waiting for a family to come picnicking so they can get lunch,” laughed Eleanor. “Look at the shimmer on that water, there must be just enough breeze to make ripples all the way in to shore. Should we stop at the General Store first? The desk clerk said the manager there knows more about the place than anyone else.” “Good idea,” said Harry. “I thought about asking at the hotel, but the General Store is also a Post Office he said, and they’d be quite knowledgeable about the area. You could ask about Curly Cuts and make an appointment, you did say Mum’s hair was nicely done and you need a cut yourself.”
They parked the car, and strolled towards the General Store. Looking around they noticed how quiet it was and wondered if it was always so. “Maybe it gets busier in summer?” said Eleanor.
“We’ll ask,” said Harry as they entered the store. A Post Office section was over to the right, with the manager serving a customer. While waiting in line, Eleanor noticed an unusual picture on the wall. “Look at that, Harry,” she said. “It looks like someone double exposed an image on one of those old film type cameras. It looks good printed in grey tones like that.”
They soon found out Shark Cove had been named because at very low tides the rocks ringing the beach looked like shark teeth when viewed from the clifftop, but there were no real sharks in the area. “Is there a story about that unusual photograph?” asked Eleanor. The manager, who introduced himself as Bill Money, said it had been given to him by a photographer who’d stayed in the Cove Hotel some years ago. “Her name was Cherie Kendall, she was here with her husband Frank and young son, taking photos of the area. She used to sell them to calendar and postcard manufacturers, but didn’t think this one would sell. It wasn’t taken in this area anyway. I said I liked it, so she gave it to me. Really sad what happened next. She was found murdered a couple of days later, her husband and son haven’t been seen since. They were gone when her body was found early one morning.”
“Oh, that’s horrible!” exclaimed Eleanor. “Was anyone convicted?”
“No, said Bill. “The one person who might have seen anything had a mental breakdown and now has a blank slate where her memory should be. She’s the one who found Cherie, still lives around here, in the old hospital, spends a lot of time with the old folks up at the “Scenic Retreat.”
“That’s the name on that old weather-beaten sign near that causeway close to home,” said Harry. “I remember,” said Eleanor, “we said we might take a look at it one day.”