Thursday, December 20, 2012

The second day

I stubbed out my cigarette and looked south, where the palm trees had started to sway with the breeze.  It was going to rain..  "Damn it", I thought, "why hadn't I brought my jacket."   and I knew why, because it was red and it made me stand out through the town of tamarindo and I really didn't feel like looking like a gringo today in my North Face just stinking of the US or perhaps the east coast which is how I always felt in that jacket.

I had hoped to meet up with Elsa, but she had been called into working a double at the bar and restaurant that her brother owned.  Ever since her parents passed, she had dropped out of school and ended up working for the Enrico.  She was pretty, and smart, and she should have been working on finishing high school and getting the fuck out of this town with its dirt roads and local drunks and gringo surfers like me from up north.

We met a couple months back, out at the break along the north edge of town. Someone had slashed the tires on my jeep, a reminder from the locals that this was their break.  Such bullshit always seemed to happen to me at the worst possible times.  I was working at a luxury hotel, as a line cook, and my shift started in an hour and I was starting to wonder if I would lose my job when I caught sight of her jeep rolling slowly up the dirt road to where I was parked.   She was with a few guys that I recognized from town, and as she pulled up she slowed the jeep and asked if I needed help in the lazy Spanish that was typical of a local.

I asked if she could give me a lift back, and surprisingly the two guys hopped down from the jeep and headed down to the beach while she looked me over, then down to the tires with a sly, knowing grin on her face.   "Do you know who did this I asked?", "no te preoccupes." she replied, "don't worry".  I left it alone and hopped into the worn front seat.  I noticed her tan legs and cheap pink flip flops as she backed up the jeep into a small clearing and turned around.  "my name's Pablo" I said.  I went by Pablo because it was just easier.   Everyone could pronounce it, and I liked how it sounded.   She pretended not to notice as the jeep bounced down the dirt road.  

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