Sunday, in the wake of the Oyster Festival, Urbanna was a different town. With only an occasional person on the street in comparison to the thousands from the previous day, it felt almost ghostly. Both Alan and I were mildly creeped out by it, which might explain why my brain gravitated toward paranoia.

The owners of the B&B were incredibly nice people, with an expansive sense of hospitality. They took a shine to Alan and me, so they offered to take us out on their boat Sunday afternoon.

The day was gorgeous - 70 degrees and sunny with a bright blue sky. The trees lining the river were vivid shades of red, orange and yellow. It was like being in a commercial for the Rappahannock River or - in keeping with my general paranoia - a horror movie.

So instead of simply relaxing and absorbing the scenery as we shuttled up the river, I started looking around nervously, imaging that they were taking us somewhere to kill us. Spotting a shovel on the deck, I envisioned our captain whacking Alan in the head with it, then pushing him overboard. The phrase "watery grave" danced in my head.

After we returned to the B&B (safely, I might add), I told Alan what I'd been thinking.

He laughed. "And what would their plan be with you after they killed me?"

"Human trafficking? Indentured servitude? Take your pick!" I was a bit indignant that he didn't give me credit for having value to them. Alan just rolled his eyes.

So, before our next vacation, I have it all figured out. Depending on where we're going, I'll rent a few movies for him:

  • If we're staying at a B&B again: Psycho 
  • Water-based vacation: Cape Fear
  • Writing/skiing retreat: The Shining
  • Iowa: Children of the Corn
  • Pennsylvania: Dracula (C'mon! It sounds kind of like Transylvania)
  • Camping: Blair Witch Project

Then we'll see who's laughing. And who's holding a shovel.