The year was nineteen seventy-five. Barren couple, Pearl and Edward Riley stumbled upon a newborn baby girl. Her cries could only be heard by a true mother, which Pearl immediately became. Bundled up with their new child, they discovered a parcel of artifacts and a scribbled note that read: Sakkara. Pregnant seamstress, Petrina Dugal, became a runaway at the age of twenty-six. She ran away from a brutish husband, Roger, and a well-loved South American home in Georgetown, Guyana; at the heart of her rebellion – an enigmatic lover named Michael Chen. Pet and Mikey, as they became affectionately known, allowed love to blossom in front of her police officer husband and an intrusive community. Were they not aware of the dangers? Or did the pursuit of love trump obligations?
Sakkara Riley grew up with two loving parents – adoptive parents to be exact. She never knew the circumstances surrounding her discovery, until the age of sixteen. She embarks on a journey.
Jumping Ship is an introductory novella to the Island Hopping Series. There are 7 planned books – representing each of the islands that Sakkara will visit along the way.
The couple made necessary strides to not be too obvious in their conspiring. So, rather than take the most logical passage, a straight shot stroll became a sendoff march amongst the community. Mikey led the way, while Pet appeared to tag along from a mere three to four feet behind him. Her mind wandered on every possible issue. Luckily, the rainy season came twice for the year – around May to June/July and November/December to January. Their escape could’ve been wet and miserable.
At one point, they drifted towards the Seawalls, and she became elated at the opportunity to bask in the last bit of breeze she was to experience from its waters. She would never again enjoy flying kites along the path, nor taking a lonely Sunday afternoon stroll with murmurs and wafts. Their migration was a reminder that this would no longer be the case. In a daydream state, she took in the dry aroma of sand and seashells. The wind tousled at hair beneath the makeshift bonnet. Her eyelids dipped as a natural reaction to the Atlantic’s enticement. Pet’s senses guided her towards the path that Mikey was setting before her. His steps were urgent, yet steady; even his khaki’s swish-swoosh rubbing became a romantic melody. Her hips commenced twining in accord, while future-realities shattered her present circumstance. The delicate creature was spellbound.
When Mikey’s cool dodge to the right went unseen, within seconds Pet rammed into an oncoming fellow side-walker. All she was able to fully comprehend was the shimmery, jet-black combat boots – the very type that decorated her husband’s feet. The sharp edges of dark-colored pant bottoms swayed slightly against the stranger’s slender legs – a memento to Roger. She feared facing the ultimate tormentor. Her head remained low, while her hand unconsciously sought the entrance to the dark, silk wrap. Pet’s precious life and a delicate throat were in jeopardy. Tears rolled down her cheeks and cooled almost immediately. The breeze increased. A set of deep, honeycomb fingers attempted to pull away her facial shading.
Suddenly an arm gripped her waist and redirected her up Lamaha Street, and away from exposure.
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