93. Cote d'Azure

We spent the morning on the Blue Coast. You should see the Blue Coast. It looks like someone took a picture of a map—the lines are that perfect. We pretty much didn’t leave the beach all day long. Lenore went into town and bought us lots of expensive things to put in our picnic basket, and Burbank and I dinked around, stepping into the water and jumping out when it was too cold or when I naively thought there were sharks. I was in my swim trunks and sandals, showing off my gnarly toes, and Burbank sported his new tan. Lenore was the only one who went swimming. She was like some kind of shiny dolphin the way she was able to ride the waves. I wish I had poise and grace. And knew how to swim.

After a while, Burbank disappeared with that map the beggar gave me, leaving Lenore and I to our own devices. Of course, I didn’t make my move because I’m too much of a coward, but what wasn’t said was louder than what wasn’t not said, I’m sure.

Lenore got tired of waiting for Burbank and left me on the beach after the sun had gone down to return to the hotel. I was tempted to join her, but I would never abandon such an amazing friend like Burbank. I didn’t have to wait long until Burbank popped out from behind one of the coast boulders asking if she was really gone.

I asked what he was talking about and he told me he’d found where the treasure was buried.