W's sound like V

     Roni noticed that she had very long, extravagantly painted
nails, obviously applied in a salon, and lots of gold rings on her fingers.

     “Look at your nails,” Roni said, “they’re beautiful.”

     The woman smiled obviously proud of them. Roni stirred the
frozen drink with the straw, mixing in the tequila, and took a sip.

     “It tastes good too,” Roni said.

     The couple from outside by the pool came to the bar and
asked for their tab. They paid in cash and left. Roni was the only patron in
the place now.

     “Vere ya come from?” the bartender asked.

      Roni had noticed many of the Bahamians made their W’s sound
like a V.

     “I’m staying in a house by the Bay Club,” Roni answered.

     “I know dat. I mean, where ya live?”

     “Oh, I live in New York City, I just got in yesterday."
Roni said as she wrinkled her forehead in confusion. "Wait, how would you
know where I’m staying?”

     “Erryone know. Gloria tell us a white lady rentin' da doctor's
house fo' a lon' stay. Ya not news ta us, gal,” she said, laughing heartily.

      Roni smiled. Her laugh was one of those that came from deep
down and made her whole body shake.

     “I'm Lashanda. Wha' ya name?” she asked.




Excerpt from A Horse Named Joe (a Novel)--not released yet




Set on the small island of Green Turtle Cay in the Bahama's a former investment banker at Lehman Brothers tries to find herself.




Lisa Loomis