Mr. Ted Popular

Over The Horizon (Edited)

Slow strides, at ten mph, peddled us into the lot. But I only wished he could go faster. I waited anxiously like a child, craning to run with all of my being out of the car and into the wonderland resort.

"Here we are," the driver said.

"Thank you," Peter said as he passed him a tip.

"No problem," he replied.

As Diane and Peter began to walk back to the trunk to get our bags, I flew out of the car like water from a geyser.

"This is amazing," I gasped, looking around.

It appeared to be like a mall, with four pairs of glass doors leading to the front desk. The rotunda parking are we had been dropped off at was covered from the sun's rays, by a large round beige overhead, held up by Greek style small pillars. On a lit sign attached to the heading were the words of I was only eight to ten feet above ground, making the area seem small, confined.

I took a look at the surroundings. To my right sat the tears of blue, named Pacific, crashing against the shoreline, in a rhythmic pattern almost. I could hear it calling my name; and to the other side sat the heart of adventure. The city of Honolulu. Building after building, Palm after Palm, face after face, painting the modern tropical tone to the landscape of evergreen green, with unsoiled concrete streets. Eventually I had to help with my luggage though, they were taking a long time, and I wanted to get to the rooms as soon as possible.

"Thanks London," Diane says.

"No problem," I said as I lifted what felt like a thirty thousand pound boulder.

I let out a shriek of surprise as it fell to the ground. That's when I realized that it had a handle and wheels (obviously a warning of weight).

"You need help?" Ted said, struggling with bags himself.

"I'm not so helpless," I smiled. But truth was I thought it over a few more times.

"Is that all of them?" Peter said as I grabbed the last bag.

"Yep," I said walking away.

The driver drove off as soon as we had confirmation. I had considered that we weren't the only ones that he had to pick up. The hotel looked like it had plenty of rooms to go in its enormity. Peter, the Bag King, at the moment, fumbled around opening the doors for us. Luckily someone else came to help before he toppled over.

The inside of the castle greeted us with refreshing air and the scent of Aloe Vera with ocean water. In a deep gaze I once again looked around. The closest description I could find to illustrate the loveliness, was an expensive shopping mall. Various sections were cut out in the main center alone reading different activities. Each illustrated in fancy lit letters just as the sign outside. Spa Kahkakara, the Lawson Station, and a little dining area I couldn't find the name for. All on top of glamorous marble floors, painted in swirls of tan and brown. The floors complemented the fleece white walls with exuberance, just as the crystal glass panes that separated the divisions from the main area.

"Hello. Welcome to the Sheraton Waikiki. How may I help you?" The concierge said.

She appeared to be a Hawaiian native woman. Young, pretty, tan, beautifully cut dark brown hair that gleaned in the sun, as it covered one of her eyes. Her midsize lips were painted in a softer shade of pink. They smiled kindly at us as Diane pulled out the credit card.

"We already booked online, we're the Allen's," she said.

"I was just looking at your reservation," The woman chuckled, typing around her computer keyboard, "here it is."