Drayton woke up to find himself sunburned from head to toe. “Ouch. I’ve never been sunburned in my life.” He stood and tried to rub the sand from his skin, crying out in pain. “That hurts.”

“Excuse me, son. May I suggest you go and get some sunblock. That’s a bad burn you’ve got there. Put some aloe vera on it. That’s sure to take some of the pain away.” An elderly man walking past with a beach umbrella stopped to give him advice.

“Did I ask you for your opinion, old man? Mind your own business. I’m not an idiot. I realize I’m sunburned, you old fool. Get away!” Drayton snarled at him.

The man shook his head and walked away mumbling. “You’re going to feel that tonight and I’m glad.”

Drayton was sure he heard the man laugh. He picked up his towel and shook it out. Sand flew into the air and all over everyone sitting around him.

“Mum, that stupid man got sand in my sandwich.” A toddler cried, handing his dirty bread to his mum.

Drayton walked over the boy. He picked up a bucket the boy had been using and filled it with sand. He poured it all over the boy’s head. He filled it up again and poured it all over the food in the picnic basket and then looked at his mum. “Tell your brat to stop his whining or I’ll give him something to whine about.” Drayton tossed the bucket into the sea and walked back to his hotel.

            Everyone that passed him whispered about his sunburn. He saw a shop that sold lotion in the window, Sun and Fun, and went inside. Sand fell from him, landing all over the shop floor. The sales clerk, Andre, looked at Drayton in disgust. “Not another whiner. You going to throw me out over a little sand?”

“Excuse me sir. Could you please step outside and brush the sand off and then you’re welcome to come back inside,” Andre said.

“Why do you talk so funny? Are you some kind of idiot?” Drayton made fun of him in front of several other customers in the shop.

“My accent is of no concern of yours. Please step outside before I call the police.”

            Drayton brushed all the sand off his body onto the floor and left. He marched down to the beach. Seeing that the boy had picked the bucket out of the water, he grabbed it out of the toddler’s hands and filled it with sand. The mother grabbed her son, holding him away from Drayton. She was relieved when he left, heading to town. He carried the bucket and stood in front of the shop. He opened the door.

            Andre said, “Excuse me sir. I asked you to leave.”

            Drayton walked up to him, holding the bucket behind his back. The other customers ran out, not wanting to deal with the bully. “First of all, what sort of accent is that?”

“It’s Creole sir, part of my heritage.”

            “Speaking of hairitage,” Drayton said, trying to use the same accent and mocking the man. He dumped the bucket of sand on top of the man’s head. Some piled on his hair and the rest of it slid to the floor. “Now, tell me more about your hairitage.” He  laughed as he walked out the door.

            On his way to the hotel he passed another shop. He went inside and picked up a bottle of aloe vera gel, lotion, and sunscreen. Seeing the clerk busy with another customer, he walked out of the shop, his new stolen purchases hidden under his towel.

            Back in his hotel room he showered and dressed in clean clothes. “I wonder if those brats have got that pearl yet. Do I hang around to find out, or go back to Inveralba. If I leave now, I’ll go back a richer man.” He held the wad of stolen money  and pulled open the curtains. “It’s too sunny here. My skin’s burned and I feel like roasted duck. I’m going home.” He gathered everything he could find in the hotel room, including a pillow off the bed and said the words, “Daleth shapish yam bet.” The colored curtains and bedspread swirled in a blur. Drayton reached to hold onto the table, but when he touched something, it was a tree in the woods outside Angus’s croft. Rain poured down on his burned body, pelting it with sharp tingles. Clad only in shorts, sandals and a tee shirt and forgetting that he’d left his old clothes hidden behind a bush, Drayton ran to the B&B.

            He burst through the door, nearly knocking Elsie over. “Why Drayton! Whatever happened to you? You’re burned to a crisp.”

            Not caring if he was polite or not, he ignored her and ran to his room, slamming the door behind him.