Welcome to Tranquility

By John M. Carney

Dave and Myra Lochwood had just retired. They decided to sell their home and follow their dreams of finding their retirement paradise. Thinking they had found that perfect place in the South, on what they thought would fulfill all of their hopes, and where they could buy an affordable plot of land to build their retirement sanctuary.

But, the alluring brochures Myra had received months before, said nothing of the grossly overpriced and overdeveloped turmoil they found when they arrived. Shocked by what they discovered, they returned home only to find their house was sold. They had to find another place to live in less than a month. Fortunately, some friend of theirs, told them about the little mountain town of Tranquility. They checked it out and it had everything they were looking for, they found their unspoiled paradise near the little mountain village named, Tranquility.

The Lochwoods were happily content in their pristine environment until the arrival of the land developers. The developers pushed ahead with the clearing of the land and the removal of vast acres of timber. Later, the hidden purpose of the developers was revealed in their conflict with Barton Campbell, the local minister of the church in Tranquility.

Dave and Myra found themselves caught in the middle of the struggle between their friend, Barton, and the pressure of the land developers moving ever closer to their home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 12, 2009
• ISBN: 9781469101316

John M. Carney

John was born during the depression in 1931, in Denver, Colorado, where he was a student in elementary, junior high, and high school. A veteran of the war in Korea, during which, he served in the army. He spent about forty years in the lumber and home improvement industry. He became a Christian in 1955. Since that time, he has spent most of his after work hours studying and teaching the Bible in the United States and in Bible correspondences courses overseas. He has studied and taught from over thirty-five books written on the scientific and Biblical defense of Christianity.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The store manager raised his glass in a toast, To Dave and Myra Lochwood and to the twenty-seven years of service and dedication they have given to Cruton’s Department Store. The crowd gathered around Dave and Myra and gave an enthusiastic round of applause as they celebrated two of their favorite coworkers’ day of retirement.

Dave had been manager of the store’s accounting department for the past fifteen years of his twenty-seven years of employment. He was never one to raise corporate eyebrows with his steady but efficient work habits or with his low-key productive methods of getting the most out of those who worked under him in accounting. Everyone who worked at Cruton’s that knew Dave liked him because of his easy way of dealing with people.

Myra was the department manager over at women’s clothing. She began working for Cruton’s just two weeks before Dave had arrived. They met a few months later, began dating, fell in love, and got married just one week over the two years of employment, which entitled them to two weeks’ vacation. Myra’s ability to foresee fashion trends and fads gave her department a highly respectable profit margin, always in the top 15 percent among Cruton’s eighty-seven department stores.

But at age sixty-two, Myra and Dave began to ask themselves, Why not retire while we’re both still young enough to enjoy it? Both had worked long enough to qualify for the company’s retirement fund. They were both eligible to draw the Social Security. The mortgage on the house had been paid off for over two years. The kids have grown up and are on their own. The last one moved out five years ago. The house is too large for two people. So why not retire, sell the house, find a place where Dave could write, fish, and practice his recently aroused infatuation with wildlife photography. Myra loved to paint landscapes in oil and recently became interested in interior/exterior decorating, having completed a six months correspondence course. Their excitement grew; the Lochwoods looked into real estate outside the city and in some other state where they could be closer to nature and do the things they wanted to do.

Finally, after three months of looking, they found the ideal location. An island right off the South Atlantic coast with a new bridge to the mainland that was built just three years ago. The brochures showed color photographs of an out-of-the-way, off-the-proverbial-beaten-path island with beautiful unspoiled beaches.

So Myra suggested, Why don’t we go ahead and put our house up for sale while we drive down to Getaway Island and take a look at it?

This told Dave that this is the place where Myra wants to move. This is the way she did things if she says she wants us (meaning she and Dave) to take a look at it. Whatever, he couldn’t argue with her on that. The brochures showed miles of natural pine forests and beaches with abundant wildlife. The government had just completed the creation of a wildlife preserve on the island to protect the forest and wildlife. The weather was warm and friendly. This is the place! We’ve found our paradise!

After saying their good-byes to all of the friends they developed among their coworkers, Dave and Myra left Cruton’s Department Store in a state of emotional euphoria. They were really going to do all of the things they have been wanting to do when they retire.

Leaving the store’s parking lot, they paused to look at the place where they met, worked, and planned their futures, then drove back home.

"Remember to call the real estate lady in the morning, sweetheart, so we can get the house listed before we leave, Myra reminded Dave, knowing how easy it is to forget important details before one leaves on a trip.

I already have, Dave responded with one of those little self-assured smiles he had when he knew that he was one step ahead of the master planner for a change.

Sheila Barstow, one of the top real estate agents for Fastrack Realty, arrived at the house the next morning. By 10:30 a.m., she had completed the tour of the property and made suggestions to help with the final transition after the sales transaction is completed.

Sheila remarked, I think you made the right decision by taking a trip now while your house is on the market. Who knows, when you return, we may have a pleasant surprise waiting for you. Your house will be placed on our multilisting sales directory. We could have a contract on it by the time you return home.

By 11:00 a.m., the real estate agent had left. The house seemed painfully quiet. All of the children were grown and on their own. Theresa was married with two young children of her own. Kevin was still single but had a good job with a large and growing corporation in Kansas City. Yep, it was quiet. But they had plenty of time for packing. Dave needed to decide on camera equipment, lenses, filters, tripods, etc. And what about fishing tackle? Dave decided his rods and reels were too light for ocean fishing, so he would buy some when he gets there.

Myra had her brushes, oil colors, palette, and easel already packed into their new Chevrolet conversion van by the time Dave figured out what he wanted to take with him. Anyway, there was no hurry since they were not leaving until the next morning.

By six the next morning, Dave finally had it all packed in, including his toothbrush and electric razor, which he usually forgets. After staring at the van for a few moments, he called to Myra, Let’s stop and eat breakfast at Andy’s Place. A nice family restaurant located about ten blocks down on Jefferson Boulevard.

OK, let me get my purse, and I’ll be right out, Myra answered as she grabbed her sunglasses and purse. Seeing Dave sitting in the van, which was parked in the driveway next to their Ford Taurus, she asked Dave to put the car in the garage while she put her fanny pack on and then stuck her purse behind the front seat and sat down in front beside the driver’s seat. Dave got back in, started the engine, backed out of the driveway, and took off down the street to Andy’s Place for breakfast, with visions of sun, sand, and beautiful primitive beaches at Getaway Island.

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CHAPTER 2

Welcome to paradise! was the cheery greeting of the sharply dressed woman at the welcome center on Getaway Island. The welcome center was recently built on the side of the highway, just as one crosses the bridge from the mainland onto Getaway Island. The well-decorated counters offered a wide variety of brochures on just about anything a person could want. There were brochures on exquisite restaurants, dining and dancing, and luxurious resorts with color photographs of breathtaking sandy beaches. There were also brochures on art galleries, real estate offices, time-share condos, motels, hotels, and, of course, golf courses. Dave and Myra gazed longingly at the brochures of the beaches.

Aaaah, the beach! Myra had been reading up on vacation and retirement areas for three months before they retired. Finally, she read about the beautiful out-of-the-way island right on the South Atlantic coast. The colored photographs of the gorgeous white sandy beaches with wildlife preserves and outstanding resorts tucked away on some ocean coves with breathtaking views. It was the ideal place where they always wanted to go when they retire. Maybe even buy a piece of land and put a small manufactured house, surrounded by pine trees, far from the stressful surroundings of a large city with pressured and anxious people scurrying to meet deadlines.

Now, Dave and Myra were leaving all of that! They were now in paradise! They were going to have late-morning rises, getting up whenever they feel like it. Leisurely paced drives on lonely roads with plenty of gawking, oohs, and aahs as they take in God’s carefully laid-out creation. No time schedules to meet. No dirty brown cloud of polluted air. No bumper-to-bumper lines of traffic tied up by breakdown of overheated automobiles, flat tires, and car wrecks. We are in paradise!

Before Dave and Myra left the welcome center, they stopped to gaze at the wildlife display behind three large plate glass windows. In a twenty-foot-square fenced enclosure, a live six-foot alligator lay in the shallow water of a smelly swamp, now referred to as a wetland; a few brightly colored birds sitting in some of the five trees in the enclosure. It didn’t take long to see everything in the enclosure, so the Lochwoods turned and left through the front door of the center.

As the Lochwoods pulled out of the parking lot, they noticed a McDonald’s down the next block on the other side of the street. The perfect place to grab a light lunch with some coffee and look over all of the fun packages enclosed in the brochures. As they pulled into the McDonald’s parking lot, they noticed a vacant parking spot shaded by some tall majestic pines. It was only 11:15 a.m., and the lot was almost full. Another conversion van and two cars followed the Lochwoods into the parking lot. After walking inside, it was obvious that this place was doing a booming business. Lines, seven and eight deep in front of each cash register. It took nearly twenty minutes to place their order, pay the teenage boy standing behind the cash register, and find a table where they could sit down and browse through all of the exciting opportunities in paradise while they eat.

By the time the Lochwoods finished their cheeseburgers, while studying a map of Getaway Island, Dave remarked, Look, Myra. This street runs right into a road that will take us right down to the beach. We can park at the Hideaway Marina, where all of those big sailing ships are anchored. We should be able to find a motel close by, where we can spend the night. Let’s go!

Myra nodded her head in approval, picked up the brochures, and dropped them into the tote bag she always takes along whenever they travel. But as they looked back, both were astonished by the long lines that were forming at the counter, going clear back to the entrance doors. Can you believe this crowd? Dave, we better leave now or we won’t even be able to get out.

It took the Lochwoods three or four minutes just to work their way through the crowd of people coming in and going out, excusing themselves as they walked through waiting vacationers, construction workers, and retirees like themselves.

Once outside, they had to work their way through a maze of cars, conversion vans, and pickup trucks, which were slowly inching their way through the parking lot looking for places to park, and the lot was packed! It took Dave and Myra two or three minutes to get to where their van was parked. Dave started the engine and looked back for room to back out. The traffic just kept coming. Some were trying to get out. Some were looking for a place to park. After nearly five more frustrating minutes, another conversion van, wanting their parking space, blocked the traffic so that the Lochwoods could get out. Moving slowly into the line heading for the exit to the street, Dave shook his head and remarked, It’s going to take us at least ten minutes to get out of the parking lot.

Myra optimistically replied, Oh, Dave, just be patient and enjoy the trip. Once we’re on the street, we should be able to move right along without any big problem.

Dave, always amazed by Myra’s perky spirit, commented, Yeah, sure. Just take a look at the street. The traffic is backed up, clear back to the bridge, and more are coming from the mainland. It’s a steady stream, as if everyone in the state are headed for the same place we are.

It took about fifteen minutes before someone stopped and let them into traffic. To which Myra smiled and said, OK, we’re out of the parking lot, and probably before you know it, we’ll be walking on the beach in our bare feet.

Meanwhile, Dave was looking around while they were creeping down the street at ten miles per hour. Look, Myra, there is a big golf course on each side of the road. A lot of this traffic will probably subside as most of these people will be pulling into the golf courses and restaurants along the way.

After seven or eight minutes, four more golf courses, nine restaurants, and five large resort hotels, the traffic slowed down to five miles per hour. Look, Myra, another golf course. Look’s like there is a crew of lumberjacks at work cutting down a bunch of trees behind the golf course. By then the traffic stopped to let four large semitractors with long flatbed trailers loaded down with pine tree logs on to the street in front of them. Fortunately, they were heading the other direction, probably for some sawmill. The stop took only about three to four minutes; it took that long for the construction men to stop traffic to let them out.

Twenty minutes, they passed by eleven motels, five luxurious resorts, four fast-food restaurants, seven seafood restaurants; and six more golf courses later, Myra’s optimistic smile looked more like a grimace. Dave’s patience was wearing thin, and they were still at least a mile away from the intersection where the road turned to the left and continued for twelve miles more to Hideaway Marina. The bumper-to-bumper traffic has now slowed to stop-and-start driving (mostly stop) while some of the vacationers pulled into a motel or café in hope of finding a place to rest. Dave looked out the side window of the van while they were creeping along and noticed that the people walking on the sidewalks were moving along and passing them by.

Finally, after an overwhelming emotional exasperation, Dave threw his hands up in the air and blurted out, loud enough for every vehicle within half a block to hear, WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE? I THOUGHT WE WERE GOING SOMEWHERE WHERE WE COULD BASK ON UNCROWDED BEACHES! DRIVE DOWN QUIET COUNTRY ROADS AND ENJOY LIMITLESS FLOCKS OF BIRDS AND OTHER WILDLIFE! WHERE IS IT? WHERE ARE THEY? ALL I SEE IS CARS, TRUCKS, MOTELS, HOTELS, SHOPPING CENTERS, AND MORE AND MORE GOLF COURSES! THERE ARE NO TREES, NO BEACHES, NO ALLIGATORS, NO DEER, AND THE ONLY BIRDS I SEE, ARE PIDGEONS! WHERE IS OUR PARADISE?"

Myra strained to maintain a forced smile while she tried to calm Dave down, Shhh, Dave, look around, everyone is staring at us. Sweetheart, it should only be another mile to where we turn off. From there, we should see a drop in traffic, and it’ll be a lot less stressful.

Dave sighed, then was silent for nearly a minute, then mumbled, OK, OK, I’ll try to ease up. Maybe it’ll get better as we go along. Since they had to stop again, Dave used his time to count the pedestrians that were passing them by on the sidewalks.

Thirty minutes later, the Lochwoods arrived at the intersection where there was a traffic light. The light remained red for about two minutes, then turned green, and the Lochwoods turned left and began following the road that led to the beach at Hideaway Marina. About fifty feet down on the right, there was a sign that read Hideaway Marina, with an arrow pointing in the direction the Lochwoods were going. But it was as if everyone on the road were headed for the same marina, including the foot traffic where people were still walking faster than the vehicles moving on the road.

The Lochwoods had moved about a half mile farther when Myra noticed a Best Southern Motel less than a hundred yards down the road on the right side. She touched Dave on the shoulder. Look, there’s a Best Southern just ahead, let’s turn in there and see if we can get a room for tonight. It will give us a rest from the traffic for a while, and they have a coffee shop. We could get some coffee and a Danish.

Dave pulled onto the parking lot and into the only visitor parking space left. Both wearily crawled out of the van and walked into the motel office where three other couples were milling around, muttering to one another with hints of disgust. The middle-aged lady behind the desk, with a small tag on her jacket that said Manager, greeted them with a broad smile, Welcome to paradise.

Myra asked, Do you have a room with queen-size or twin beds? Nonsmoking would be preferable.

The lady, still maintaining her smile, shook her head. I am sorry, we’re booked up for the next three months. You need to get a reservation at least three months in advance just about everywhere on Getaway Island. However, if you like, I would be glad to call around to some places down the road to see if they might have had a cancellation today, with a room still available.

Myra spoke up, Yes, we would appreciate that, thank you.

The manager was kind enough to call four other motels on the same road in the direction the Lochwoods were traveling. The reply was the same. No rooms were available. Dave thanked the manager for her effort. They left the office and headed for the coffee shop across from the office.

When they stepped inside, it was wall-to-wall with people waiting to get a table. Dave was able to reach the man in charge of seating, and he told them, There will be at least a thirty-minute wait for a table. But if you step over to that window, you can get a take-out order in about fifteen minutes.

Dave looked at the line at the take-out window, which stretched clear back to the front door and decided to leave. Come on, let’s go. They showed a Crimson Crustacean Restaurant in the Restaday Inn Resort about a mile down the road. It’s getting late, and by the time we reach it, we’ll just have an early dinner and try to find some place to stay on the mainland. There were three or four motels along the road just before we crossed the bridge.

The Lochwoods left the restaurant, climbed back into their van, and leaned back into the comfortable front seats. Myra grabbed the thermos they kept under the front seat, poured both of them of, surprisingly, quite warm coffee, and placed them in the cupholders in front of them. Both of them looked at the map of the island for about a minute when Myra noticed something across the street. Dave, look! They’re cutting down all of those beautiful pine trees on the other side of the road!

Dave responded, Yeah, and I don’t see any other trees on either side unless you look off into the distance. There appear to be some about where we should be taking the marina road. Hey, look, Myra, see that sign just this side from where the bulldozers are pushing that dirt. It’s going to be another golf course.

Myra stared at the sign for nearly a minute before she displayed her first sign of frustration. Oh, of course, Dave, after all, we’ve only passed about fifty golf courses already. I’m sure that it’s needed if they’re going to reach their goal of having an island of one solid, complete golf course. Let’s get something to eat before I scream!

And with that magnificent display of sarcasm, Dave grinned and pulled out of the motel parking lot after waiting at least ten more minutes before an RV stopped to let them out. One thing the Lochwoods knew for sure, there were no vacancies in paradise.

It was about four in the afternoon when they saw the Restaday Inn sign and the Crimson Crustacean logo underneath it. It took only eleven minutes to reach the turnoff on the road to the parking lot of the inn. The Lochwoods’ white conversion van moved down the road about fifty feet when a security guard stepped out of a little shack beside the entrance to the parking lot. Raising his hands, he motioned the Lochwoods to stop. Before Dave or Myra could say anything, the guard gave them more bad news. I’m sorry, folks, but the inn is all full up.

Myra tiredly replied, "That’s OK, Officer, we just want to get