"Cause if you let me,
here's what I'll do
I'll take care of you"
Allaya is just a girl from the Caribbean trying to make it in NYC. She's too busy going after everything she's ever wanted to be bothered with the drama that comes with love and relat...
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Welcome to the Turks & Caicos Islands!", the taxi cab driver exclaimed while placing my suitcase in the van.
His estatic attitude made the corner of my lip turn up a bit. I boosted myself into the front of his cab and placed my seatbelt on, as he did the same.
Inhaling deeply, I absorbed what it felt like to finally be back home...and alone.
I ended up in the same place I was trying to run away from. Six hours ago I was in JFK trying to determine where I would go, I could buy a ticket to anywhere in the world or wait at the gate for my father and go to London with them. But I found myself on a plane to Miami and then a connecting flight to Providenciales.
"Alright ma'am which hotel we goin' to?" the cab driver asked.
Damn I hadn't thought this through. Everything was rushed and on a whim. I hadn't figured out where I would stay or how long I'd stay here.
"No hotel but you can take me to St. Monica Anglican Church please." I asked politely.
He looked at me weirdly. "You stayin' at a church?"
"No but I have to visit someone there. Do you mind stopping at a florist or supermarket on the way? You can keep the meter running."
"Yes ma'am. Thats no problem at all!" He said excitedly. He knew my fare for this ride would be more than he made in a day.
"This your first time here? I can show you some nice tourist spots on the way there."
I knew that he was only doing his job, trying to entertain his passenger, but I wasn't in the mood.
I took a gulp of the water I bought earlier in the airport. "No, I've been here before. Actually I was born and raised here.
"Ohhh youse a island gyal. I love seeing young people come back after getting they education. That's where you been right...off to school?"
I simply nodded my head with a smile. He was one of those older people that could talk forever and ever, despite who was listening.
I stared out the window at the moving sites, beach coastlines for miles, white sand blown in the road and coconut trees lining the highway.
With the bright sun reflecting on me, I tuned out everything that was being said. I rolled down the window and laid my head on it, just to feel the air on my skin.
Mr. Rolle, as I learned was his name, made his stops in record time with his horrible driving and parked the cab right outside the church.
I sat up in the seat, flowers in my hand, gazing ahead of me at the gated entrance to the graveyard.
