Chapter 10: Acapulco
Shortly thereafter, Felipe asked if I wanted to take Adalid to Acapulco. Felipe had planned a whole trip out where we would drunkenly drive for six hours from the hacienda, over the mountains, down to the Pacific Ocean along the part of Mexico where the coast stops going more southern and starts going in more, west to east. It would take us a lot of patience, a lot of car games, a couple battery jumps, and two six packs for Felipe. It was Kike and his girl Adelaida, Felipe and his girl Isabel, and me and my girl. In the old brown van.
Did I not tell you she’s my girl? I suppose the last bit made no sense. OK. This is what happened: against all advice (American advice), instincts, and intention, I decided I like Adalid enough to ask her to be my girlfriend. At least I think it did. Here is pretty much how the conversation went (sitting in the central garden in San Felipe, avoiding the birds who are crapping on us from above:
You know everyone talks in the hacienda. Gossip. You know?
She nods.
You know they say maybe I like someone. A different person. You know?
She nods.
But I no like her. I likes you.
She smiles.
You want to be a girlfriend? Uhhh, mine girlfriend?
Let me think about it.
Umm. OK. You have to think?
Just let me think about it, ok? I’ll tell you tomorrow.
That is how it went. I am awesome. We had hung out quite a bit at Las Rosas before I asked her to go see the movie with me. The movie was like a real date, and it felt like that. She knew what it was. We started going into town together, I accompanying her since she had to go that way anyway to get home. I got to meet her younger two siblings when they came one weekend to cook us lunch. They were pretty quiet but it was fun anyway. And they made a great meal. She looked at me with this smile that I couldn’t get away from. I couldn’t think straight when she looked at my eyes. She helped me get acquainted with the town and showed me new fun places.
Once we were in this little park, actually an amphitheater, behind the municipal theater, just chatting when some drunk guy started yelling at me. He pointed at me and started saying something of which I had no idea. It was kind of funny, but I didn’t want him to do anything crazy or hurt Adalid or anything. I had the idea that I might have to try to look macho here, so I stood up and got ready to take this mother down. I new he would go down with one punch, and it would be in self defense so what was I worried about? But Adalid grabbed my arm and pulled me out of there. Let’s just go. What are you going to do with a knocked out drunk guy anyway? A good question, plus I figured there would be inevitable problems with police, so we got out of there.
But most memories are good. She was working at Las Rosas, working away at the stained glass butterflies or whatever, when I decided to take a walk, or head into town or something. I poked my head in the door and said I would be back in a bit. I walked out and heard the other girls hurriedly tell Adalid to walk me out. She is a little shy, so it was good to have a little help. I remember she had all these little braids that came down to her lower back. She had just done it the night before. It was quite sexy. She touched my hand as I walked out of the outer gate, to head down to the road. I smiled and took two steps. I turned back. Smiled again sheepishly, looking mostly at her hair. I stepped towards her and I guess since she didn’t step back or out of my way, I kissed her. It was the most wonderful kiss of my life. I didn’t know if it was a good call or what, but I did it.
How did she get permission to go with me to Acapulco for a week? I assume her mom didn’t know there would be boys there. And since we were a Christian group anyway, there would have been no reason to believe anything was less than kosher. And certainly not suspecting of Felipe, a “recovering” alcoholic.
Actually this happens all the time. People trusting Felipe. I can’t see how they don’t notice he is constantly drunk. And how they don’t notice his constant drunkscapades, out and about town with plastic six pack rings littering the floor of his car. He loves to show up in his huge boat of a Buick and invite you out for tacos. You get in the car at like 5 or 6 in the afternoon, sometimes with Kike, and he tells you you are going to get tacos and it’s going to be a great time. As soon as you are on the road, he mentions he needs to go by his house, which is the opposite direction. So you go to his house where he does whatever he needs to do. Then you get back in and head back in the direction you came from. You stop and the first tienda in sight but out of sight of the hacienda and he buys a six pack of beer. He gives you one which you don’t really want, but certainly don’t want him to down the whole six pack himself, so you take one for the team. I should mention he usually starts this trip drunk, but it’s sometimes hard to tell. He shows you pictures of his ex-wife and two kids who live in Mexico City. He talks about the things he is going to do for them, or plans for visiting them. Whatever the situation of the beer is (finished or not) you stop in 10 minutes and pick up another six pack. As he finishes each one, he rolls down the window and throws out the cans. He explains that women will be attacking each other in the morning to recycle that can. You know he is officially drunk when he does one of two things: he starts not seeing the speed bumps or else he asks you for money. He ALWAYS does both, but it’s always funny to see which one comes first. You tell him you don’t have any, and anyways he invited you for tacos, not the other way around. He says he has some job coming up and will have the money to pay you back with in a week or two. You change the subject. He starts talking about women, usually someone you are friends with and he starts saying lude things that you don’t want to know. You finally get to the town with tacos where he says he needs to go see a friend. It’s usually about someone buying his car. He doesn’t let you come in, and it seems incredibly suspicious. He usually urinates in public before getting back in the car where you are really wishing you had never come. Occasionally you actually end up getting tacos, but usually you just get some chips and head back. He wants to go back to his house and hang out and make dinner, but you are so tired of it all, you just want to go home. He of course doesn’t want to drive up to Las Rosas because it would be bad for his car (saying that after having hit all 32 speed bumps at full speed) and you grudgingly get out and walk the 20 minutes up the dark road home.
THIS was the week long version of that. It started off great and ended terribly. Adalid, along with Kike and Ade had never seen the ocean before, so that was incredibly romantic as we arrive at night, and go down and sit on the sand, listening to the stroke of the waves and the lights surrounding the bay. The “cabin” we were staying was that of some uncle of Felipe's, which sat directly behind the monstrous “Copicabana” hotel. It would have had a wonderful view of the ocean except for that large detail, but did give us excellent access to the waterfront. A 30 second walk around the hotel sat us out on the beach, and just a 10 minute walk from the beach front clubs and restaurants.
The first night was the best. We sat out on the beach, her sitting between my legs leaning back against my chest, looking up at the clear sky. We talked about everything that I could come up with words for. I taught her some constellations, in English of course. She taught me “pelican” (which there were and we could see fly by in the moonlight, and “sand” and “bay” and other basic words I should have known.
“Have you ever been here before?”
“No. This is the first time. And the first time I have ever seen the ocean.” We sit there in silence.
“What?”
“This is the first time I have ever seen the sea. I have never been to the coast before.”
“What? Really? I mean, how… what?” I can’t process that, living within five minutes of the ocean view practically my whole life. Back as Las Rosas, I actually start to expect to see the ocean over the rolling hills. In San Agustin we have the huge hill to our back, and hills out to our right, left and in front. It is pretty much up and down all along the roads no matter which way your are going. It’s the strangest feeling, to expect to see water and have it not be there. Especially cresting a peak of a hill or mountain, that I am going to see the water just over the next ridge. Every time up or down, I keep looking for the ocean like its going to appear the next time we have a good view. Every time I go hiking or driving at home, I know that most of the time the purpose is to get a sweet view of the ocean and islands. Every peak I cross just leads me to more peaks. “How have you never seen the water before?”
“Only in the movies. It is so much more beautiful than in the movies. I have never seen snow either.”
“Seriously?” I suddenly get a huge feeling of pride, like I have done something incredible by living in a place that is 5 minutes from the water and 45 from snow year round.
“Yes.”
“You’ll see snow someday.” I regret saying it, sounding like a promise to bring her to my home, which I know would be difficult. I don’t want her to think I am saying anything I am not, not hinting anything or saying anything subtle.
“I imagine that it must be the softest thing there is. Like the feeling of the softest cotton floating down and landing on you. It hailed really hard one time at my house, and I took a picture. It looked like snow. We threw hailballs at each other. It hurt.” I can’t see her face but I know she is smiling. I laugh at her story. I put my arms around her shoulders, resting my head on one of them.
The next day we paid to ride on the “banana boat” which is a big long inner tube that is pulled behind a boat. It was only at this moment that I realized (was told) that Felipe and I were actually the only ones who knew how to swim, and actually the others were terrified of this ride. This must have been like sky diving for them! We just held on and rode until Felipe plunged the nose of the banana into the water, dumping us all. I came up laughing only to have Adalid panicking and grabbing onto me, despite the life jackets doing a fine job by themselves. She grasped onto me, and I saw the Kike and Isabel were doing the same to Felipe. Adelaida was the only one with enough sense to grab onto the boat itself. How funny.
I later took Adalid Seadooing, which was just as funny, her gripping my waist like the wind would rip her off if she didn’t hold as tight as possible, giving little shrieks every time I turned at all.
Besides that, we played in the waves, sat inside eating lunch to try to avoid the sun somewhat, sat on the beach under a big sun umbrella, and otherwise just hung out.
The second night there I decided I was going to take the four of us out to dinner. Felipe wanted to show off his girlfriend, who was popping out (literally, every so often) of her small bikini top all over the place. The rest of us went for a walk down the strip. I found the nicest restaurant I could, and I invited them all in. Alongside the fancy dressed up crowd inside, we were rushed away to a small side room of the place. The waiter came over to our table and scoffed at us. It was obvious even to me that we were country folk inside a city folk eatery. We were not welcome here. We would be served and led out as soon as they had our money.
But I was not there to be looked down at, so I asked if there was another waiter that could help us. The large man looked at me, tilted his nose up pushing his head forward, brushed his hands on his apron. He set the menus on a pile on the table and left. I wasn't sure if I had asked the question correctly, but he appeared offended, so I figured it had done the trick regardless.
And actually a really nice younger guy came and waited on us. My three friends didn't have a clue what to order. The hardly knew what anything on the menu was. Steaks, fish, ribs, and pasta, was not foreign to them, but “fettuccine,” “medium rare,” “full rack,” and “served in a light garlic sauce” certainly was. The waiter patiently explained everything to them, as they giggled and finally decided on a couple things that we would all share. We got dessert to share – some cheesecake, and some spumoni ice cream. They laughed and loved everything. It was great. We all tried a little of everyone else's choice, and enjoyed it all. I enjoyed every second. They hoarded the free mints that were brought us with the check, making sure only our waiter saw. Not that it really mattered. I left a twenty dollar tip, which I am sure is more than anyone else left that night.
The next day we drove to another part of the coast, away from Acapulco bay. It was a beach near some cliffs where the waves crashed way out and rolled way up onto the sand. It was out of a movie, or a Corona ad. The grass huts with wooden chairs that let you slouch, the water actually washing up to your feet and past your chair, only a half inch deep no matter how far behind you it kept going. Waiters made sure your coke was always full, pelicans swooped down to dive bomb fish swimming too close to the surface, and life was good. Life was great. There was hardly even anyone around. Maybe I could see 20 people within sight range. Some little children and their parents. Some teenagers with boogie boards. To our right were the cliffs, to our left the beach went down out onto a sand bar a good mile or two, where six or seven huge hotels sat down at the end. But no one was in them today. I sat there, letting the warm salt water wash my feet, bathed in a soft light coming off the water, a cold coke in my hand, my girl reading a book in the chair next to me. How could I screw this one up?
I grabbed Adalid's hand and pulled her out into the water. Even a dozen yards out, the water was only a foot deep. The waves were crashing maybe forty yards out, and it was still only above waist deep, maybe a little deeper, at that point. We ran, falling over in the sand, into the feet of water. I held her against me, as the water would come up quickly and spin us around. I pulled her out deeper. She complained and said she didn't want to go out any farther. I kept pulling her out, telling her not to be scared. She looked nervous but I told her to trust me. As we got out to where the waves were breaking, it felt a little deeper than I had anticipated. In fact, when the wave crashed it definitely went over your head. A wave came down on us just as she was looking at me, giving her a huge face full of water. She went under, coming up giving one of those sounds that come from the back of your throat that sound like a violent thrust of your gag reflex. I picked her up in my arms. Another broke on us, which pulled us under again, but this time the undertow pulled us out farther than the break line. The next swell came and crashed after us. I looked back at the beach only to see us much much farther towards the cliffs, and rocks, than we started. Actually I could watch us moving left to right with a rip tide that was moving very swiftly. Here is where she panics. She grabs onto my neck, and tries to use me to push herself up out of the water, like someone climbing a tree to get away from a bear. I tell her to calm down. I keep saying “tranquilo.” I just keep saying that. I can't think of any other word, or anything else I can do. We are moving out to sea, and towards the dangerous rocks to the side. I can keep us up, but I can't swim.
“OK. I gotta think.” I've got it. If she can grab my leg, and keep her head above the waves, I can possibly get us back. We are in a lot of trouble, but I think I spot an area I can get us to. But she has to grab onto my leg. I try to explain it but no words come out. OK. Gotta to understand.
“Touch my... no, I mean, take here.” This makes no sense. A hand grabs me and another one grabs her and puts her hands on a boogie board. Three kids who I hadn't seen are there and take her back in, as I swim my own sad butt back into shore.
Talk about being an idiot. All time biggest “showing off backfires” moves. One for the record books. “Idiot foreigner drowns girlfriend.” Awesome. I come in, where she is back on her wooden chair. I can't look at her. I sit down in mine and slouch more than usual. I don't say anything. I feel like throwing up. I want to run away. I want to beg for forgiveness. I want to cry and her to tell me its ok and I'm not a terrible boyfriend and I want to tell her I won't ever do anything that dumb again, even if I know I will (I'm a guy). I sit there for three or four minutes it painful silence. I feel something against my hand. It's hers.
“Let's go for a walk.” We do. We walk down the deserted beach down towards the large hotels in the distance. A couple on horses go trotting by. I try to beg for forgiveness but can't come up with the word. Apparently the groveling gets the point across and she tells me to shut up (I am just babbling) and why am I even worried. It was just a stupid mistake. An accident. We walk and talk, holding hands and chasing seagulls (or the Acapulcan “annoying, squawking bird” equivalent) and sand crabs that can flat out run. Much faster than me. And we collect shells. We find a sand dollar. I translate it to “a dollar of sand” which of course makes no sense regardless, much less if she has never seen one before and looks nothing like a dollar nor sand. No starfish but I sure would like to show her one. Oh well. We kiss there in the surf. It would be so much more romantic if I hadn't almost killed her a half hour ago.
I wake up sunburned the next day, and promptly get food poisoning that night, laying in bed for the remaining two days. We are supposed to go home but the van doesn't work and we have to stay another day. Adalid takes wonderful care of me, staying with me although there is much more interesting stuff to be doing. But I am just throwing up and wanting to be on the beach. Finally we pile into the van, which has no windows except for the two front ones, and of those two one doesn't work. It must be 95, with no AC, no air, seated on the only seat at the far back of a bumpy van, horribly sick. We drive home in misery.
But I suppose we only spent 20 bucks each to get there. For whatever reason, the hacienda gave us 50 for gas (I think this was a long standing promise that was finally being delivered) and we each pitched in 20 and somehow that paid for five days worth of food and one bottle of tequila the Felipe practically polished of by himself. I bought the one meal for the four of us, and actually also bought the meal that got me sick. So I probably dropped a little more than the others, but it was a solid deal. Two and half days sick did not overshadow two days of two and a half days of Heaven.
Did I not tell you she’s my girl? I suppose the last bit made no sense. OK. This is what happened: against all advice (American advice), instincts, and intention, I decided I like Adalid enough to ask her to be my girlfriend. At least I think it did. Here is pretty much how the conversation went (sitting in the central garden in San Felipe, avoiding the birds who are crapping on us from above:
You know everyone talks in the hacienda. Gossip. You know?
She nods.
You know they say maybe I like someone. A different person. You know?
She nods.
But I no like her. I likes you.
She smiles.
You want to be a girlfriend? Uhhh, mine girlfriend?
Let me think about it.
Umm. OK. You have to think?
Just let me think about it, ok? I’ll tell you tomorrow.
That is how it went. I am awesome. We had hung out quite a bit at Las Rosas before I asked her to go see the movie with me. The movie was like a real date, and it felt like that. She knew what it was. We started going into town together, I accompanying her since she had to go that way anyway to get home. I got to meet her younger two siblings when they came one weekend to cook us lunch. They were pretty quiet but it was fun anyway. And they made a great meal. She looked at me with this smile that I couldn’t get away from. I couldn’t think straight when she looked at my eyes. She helped me get acquainted with the town and showed me new fun places.
Once we were in this little park, actually an amphitheater, behind the municipal theater, just chatting when some drunk guy started yelling at me. He pointed at me and started saying something of which I had no idea. It was kind of funny, but I didn’t want him to do anything crazy or hurt Adalid or anything. I had the idea that I might have to try to look macho here, so I stood up and got ready to take this mother down. I new he would go down with one punch, and it would be in self defense so what was I worried about? But Adalid grabbed my arm and pulled me out of there. Let’s just go. What are you going to do with a knocked out drunk guy anyway? A good question, plus I figured there would be inevitable problems with police, so we got out of there.
But most memories are good. She was working at Las Rosas, working away at the stained glass butterflies or whatever, when I decided to take a walk, or head into town or something. I poked my head in the door and said I would be back in a bit. I walked out and heard the other girls hurriedly tell Adalid to walk me out. She is a little shy, so it was good to have a little help. I remember she had all these little braids that came down to her lower back. She had just done it the night before. It was quite sexy. She touched my hand as I walked out of the outer gate, to head down to the road. I smiled and took two steps. I turned back. Smiled again sheepishly, looking mostly at her hair. I stepped towards her and I guess since she didn’t step back or out of my way, I kissed her. It was the most wonderful kiss of my life. I didn’t know if it was a good call or what, but I did it.
How did she get permission to go with me to Acapulco for a week? I assume her mom didn’t know there would be boys there. And since we were a Christian group anyway, there would have been no reason to believe anything was less than kosher. And certainly not suspecting of Felipe, a “recovering” alcoholic.
Actually this happens all the time. People trusting Felipe. I can’t see how they don’t notice he is constantly drunk. And how they don’t notice his constant drunkscapades, out and about town with plastic six pack rings littering the floor of his car. He loves to show up in his huge boat of a Buick and invite you out for tacos. You get in the car at like 5 or 6 in the afternoon, sometimes with Kike, and he tells you you are going to get tacos and it’s going to be a great time. As soon as you are on the road, he mentions he needs to go by his house, which is the opposite direction. So you go to his house where he does whatever he needs to do. Then you get back in and head back in the direction you came from. You stop and the first tienda in sight but out of sight of the hacienda and he buys a six pack of beer. He gives you one which you don’t really want, but certainly don’t want him to down the whole six pack himself, so you take one for the team. I should mention he usually starts this trip drunk, but it’s sometimes hard to tell. He shows you pictures of his ex-wife and two kids who live in Mexico City. He talks about the things he is going to do for them, or plans for visiting them. Whatever the situation of the beer is (finished or not) you stop in 10 minutes and pick up another six pack. As he finishes each one, he rolls down the window and throws out the cans. He explains that women will be attacking each other in the morning to recycle that can. You know he is officially drunk when he does one of two things: he starts not seeing the speed bumps or else he asks you for money. He ALWAYS does both, but it’s always funny to see which one comes first. You tell him you don’t have any, and anyways he invited you for tacos, not the other way around. He says he has some job coming up and will have the money to pay you back with in a week or two. You change the subject. He starts talking about women, usually someone you are friends with and he starts saying lude things that you don’t want to know. You finally get to the town with tacos where he says he needs to go see a friend. It’s usually about someone buying his car. He doesn’t let you come in, and it seems incredibly suspicious. He usually urinates in public before getting back in the car where you are really wishing you had never come. Occasionally you actually end up getting tacos, but usually you just get some chips and head back. He wants to go back to his house and hang out and make dinner, but you are so tired of it all, you just want to go home. He of course doesn’t want to drive up to Las Rosas because it would be bad for his car (saying that after having hit all 32 speed bumps at full speed) and you grudgingly get out and walk the 20 minutes up the dark road home.
THIS was the week long version of that. It started off great and ended terribly. Adalid, along with Kike and Ade had never seen the ocean before, so that was incredibly romantic as we arrive at night, and go down and sit on the sand, listening to the stroke of the waves and the lights surrounding the bay. The “cabin” we were staying was that of some uncle of Felipe's, which sat directly behind the monstrous “Copicabana” hotel. It would have had a wonderful view of the ocean except for that large detail, but did give us excellent access to the waterfront. A 30 second walk around the hotel sat us out on the beach, and just a 10 minute walk from the beach front clubs and restaurants.
The first night was the best. We sat out on the beach, her sitting between my legs leaning back against my chest, looking up at the clear sky. We talked about everything that I could come up with words for. I taught her some constellations, in English of course. She taught me “pelican” (which there were and we could see fly by in the moonlight, and “sand” and “bay” and other basic words I should have known.
“Have you ever been here before?”
“No. This is the first time. And the first time I have ever seen the ocean.” We sit there in silence.
“What?”
“This is the first time I have ever seen the sea. I have never been to the coast before.”
“What? Really? I mean, how… what?” I can’t process that, living within five minutes of the ocean view practically my whole life. Back as Las Rosas, I actually start to expect to see the ocean over the rolling hills. In San Agustin we have the huge hill to our back, and hills out to our right, left and in front. It is pretty much up and down all along the roads no matter which way your are going. It’s the strangest feeling, to expect to see water and have it not be there. Especially cresting a peak of a hill or mountain, that I am going to see the water just over the next ridge. Every time up or down, I keep looking for the ocean like its going to appear the next time we have a good view. Every time I go hiking or driving at home, I know that most of the time the purpose is to get a sweet view of the ocean and islands. Every peak I cross just leads me to more peaks. “How have you never seen the water before?”
“Only in the movies. It is so much more beautiful than in the movies. I have never seen snow either.”
“Seriously?” I suddenly get a huge feeling of pride, like I have done something incredible by living in a place that is 5 minutes from the water and 45 from snow year round.
“Yes.”
“You’ll see snow someday.” I regret saying it, sounding like a promise to bring her to my home, which I know would be difficult. I don’t want her to think I am saying anything I am not, not hinting anything or saying anything subtle.
“I imagine that it must be the softest thing there is. Like the feeling of the softest cotton floating down and landing on you. It hailed really hard one time at my house, and I took a picture. It looked like snow. We threw hailballs at each other. It hurt.” I can’t see her face but I know she is smiling. I laugh at her story. I put my arms around her shoulders, resting my head on one of them.
The next day we paid to ride on the “banana boat” which is a big long inner tube that is pulled behind a boat. It was only at this moment that I realized (was told) that Felipe and I were actually the only ones who knew how to swim, and actually the others were terrified of this ride. This must have been like sky diving for them! We just held on and rode until Felipe plunged the nose of the banana into the water, dumping us all. I came up laughing only to have Adalid panicking and grabbing onto me, despite the life jackets doing a fine job by themselves. She grasped onto me, and I saw the Kike and Isabel were doing the same to Felipe. Adelaida was the only one with enough sense to grab onto the boat itself. How funny.
I later took Adalid Seadooing, which was just as funny, her gripping my waist like the wind would rip her off if she didn’t hold as tight as possible, giving little shrieks every time I turned at all.
Besides that, we played in the waves, sat inside eating lunch to try to avoid the sun somewhat, sat on the beach under a big sun umbrella, and otherwise just hung out.
The second night there I decided I was going to take the four of us out to dinner. Felipe wanted to show off his girlfriend, who was popping out (literally, every so often) of her small bikini top all over the place. The rest of us went for a walk down the strip. I found the nicest restaurant I could, and I invited them all in. Alongside the fancy dressed up crowd inside, we were rushed away to a small side room of the place. The waiter came over to our table and scoffed at us. It was obvious even to me that we were country folk inside a city folk eatery. We were not welcome here. We would be served and led out as soon as they had our money.
But I was not there to be looked down at, so I asked if there was another waiter that could help us. The large man looked at me, tilted his nose up pushing his head forward, brushed his hands on his apron. He set the menus on a pile on the table and left. I wasn't sure if I had asked the question correctly, but he appeared offended, so I figured it had done the trick regardless.
And actually a really nice younger guy came and waited on us. My three friends didn't have a clue what to order. The hardly knew what anything on the menu was. Steaks, fish, ribs, and pasta, was not foreign to them, but “fettuccine,” “medium rare,” “full rack,” and “served in a light garlic sauce” certainly was. The waiter patiently explained everything to them, as they giggled and finally decided on a couple things that we would all share. We got dessert to share – some cheesecake, and some spumoni ice cream. They laughed and loved everything. It was great. We all tried a little of everyone else's choice, and enjoyed it all. I enjoyed every second. They hoarded the free mints that were brought us with the check, making sure only our waiter saw. Not that it really mattered. I left a twenty dollar tip, which I am sure is more than anyone else left that night.
The next day we drove to another part of the coast, away from Acapulco bay. It was a beach near some cliffs where the waves crashed way out and rolled way up onto the sand. It was out of a movie, or a Corona ad. The grass huts with wooden chairs that let you slouch, the water actually washing up to your feet and past your chair, only a half inch deep no matter how far behind you it kept going. Waiters made sure your coke was always full, pelicans swooped down to dive bomb fish swimming too close to the surface, and life was good. Life was great. There was hardly even anyone around. Maybe I could see 20 people within sight range. Some little children and their parents. Some teenagers with boogie boards. To our right were the cliffs, to our left the beach went down out onto a sand bar a good mile or two, where six or seven huge hotels sat down at the end. But no one was in them today. I sat there, letting the warm salt water wash my feet, bathed in a soft light coming off the water, a cold coke in my hand, my girl reading a book in the chair next to me. How could I screw this one up?
I grabbed Adalid's hand and pulled her out into the water. Even a dozen yards out, the water was only a foot deep. The waves were crashing maybe forty yards out, and it was still only above waist deep, maybe a little deeper, at that point. We ran, falling over in the sand, into the feet of water. I held her against me, as the water would come up quickly and spin us around. I pulled her out deeper. She complained and said she didn't want to go out any farther. I kept pulling her out, telling her not to be scared. She looked nervous but I told her to trust me. As we got out to where the waves were breaking, it felt a little deeper than I had anticipated. In fact, when the wave crashed it definitely went over your head. A wave came down on us just as she was looking at me, giving her a huge face full of water. She went under, coming up giving one of those sounds that come from the back of your throat that sound like a violent thrust of your gag reflex. I picked her up in my arms. Another broke on us, which pulled us under again, but this time the undertow pulled us out farther than the break line. The next swell came and crashed after us. I looked back at the beach only to see us much much farther towards the cliffs, and rocks, than we started. Actually I could watch us moving left to right with a rip tide that was moving very swiftly. Here is where she panics. She grabs onto my neck, and tries to use me to push herself up out of the water, like someone climbing a tree to get away from a bear. I tell her to calm down. I keep saying “tranquilo.” I just keep saying that. I can't think of any other word, or anything else I can do. We are moving out to sea, and towards the dangerous rocks to the side. I can keep us up, but I can't swim.
“OK. I gotta think.” I've got it. If she can grab my leg, and keep her head above the waves, I can possibly get us back. We are in a lot of trouble, but I think I spot an area I can get us to. But she has to grab onto my leg. I try to explain it but no words come out. OK. Gotta to understand.
“Touch my... no, I mean, take here.” This makes no sense. A hand grabs me and another one grabs her and puts her hands on a boogie board. Three kids who I hadn't seen are there and take her back in, as I swim my own sad butt back into shore.
Talk about being an idiot. All time biggest “showing off backfires” moves. One for the record books. “Idiot foreigner drowns girlfriend.” Awesome. I come in, where she is back on her wooden chair. I can't look at her. I sit down in mine and slouch more than usual. I don't say anything. I feel like throwing up. I want to run away. I want to beg for forgiveness. I want to cry and her to tell me its ok and I'm not a terrible boyfriend and I want to tell her I won't ever do anything that dumb again, even if I know I will (I'm a guy). I sit there for three or four minutes it painful silence. I feel something against my hand. It's hers.
“Let's go for a walk.” We do. We walk down the deserted beach down towards the large hotels in the distance. A couple on horses go trotting by. I try to beg for forgiveness but can't come up with the word. Apparently the groveling gets the point across and she tells me to shut up (I am just babbling) and why am I even worried. It was just a stupid mistake. An accident. We walk and talk, holding hands and chasing seagulls (or the Acapulcan “annoying, squawking bird” equivalent) and sand crabs that can flat out run. Much faster than me. And we collect shells. We find a sand dollar. I translate it to “a dollar of sand” which of course makes no sense regardless, much less if she has never seen one before and looks nothing like a dollar nor sand. No starfish but I sure would like to show her one. Oh well. We kiss there in the surf. It would be so much more romantic if I hadn't almost killed her a half hour ago.
I wake up sunburned the next day, and promptly get food poisoning that night, laying in bed for the remaining two days. We are supposed to go home but the van doesn't work and we have to stay another day. Adalid takes wonderful care of me, staying with me although there is much more interesting stuff to be doing. But I am just throwing up and wanting to be on the beach. Finally we pile into the van, which has no windows except for the two front ones, and of those two one doesn't work. It must be 95, with no AC, no air, seated on the only seat at the far back of a bumpy van, horribly sick. We drive home in misery.
But I suppose we only spent 20 bucks each to get there. For whatever reason, the hacienda gave us 50 for gas (I think this was a long standing promise that was finally being delivered) and we each pitched in 20 and somehow that paid for five days worth of food and one bottle of tequila the Felipe practically polished of by himself. I bought the one meal for the four of us, and actually also bought the meal that got me sick. So I probably dropped a little more than the others, but it was a solid deal. Two and half days sick did not overshadow two days of two and a half days of Heaven.
posted by Patrick McEvoy at 5:57 PM
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