The sea retreated as she broke the grip of the tumbling waters. Soft swells revealed an ever-lengthening expanse of smooth, mocha-colored skin. Warm rivulets of salty water ran down her from long wavy auburn hair. She had been swimming hard against the retreating tide. The breeze rustling the palm fronds she watched along the beach felt like the gentle breath of angels.
“Here’s an Agua de Pipa with ice”, I offered.
We were here on my vacation break from teaching English as a foreign language to business professionals and adults in
“Just what I need. I’m parched”, she quickly responded as I held out the dark brown ball that was a chilled, wet coconut.
A hole had been sliced into its top to admit a long yellow straw. She sipped for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity to her salt-cracked throat, the sweetness contrasting the Mexican Pacific’s salt. Whirling abruptly, she dropped into the blue wooden lounge chair next to me, throwing a cartoon character towel across her dripping torso. Her feet buried themselves in the moist, warm sand. Shade from the blue and white canvas beach umbrella blocked the late morning
Raggedly-clad vendors plodded their way along the beach hawking chili-powder-sprinkled mangoes (see photo above), cheese-filled roast plantain slathered with pastel-yellow sweet cream, and clear plastic sandwich bags of brightly-colored soft drinks with straws protruding from their twist-tied tops.
Coconut Oil Caresses
“Would you like a nice, relaxing neck and back massage?”
Looking up, the face of a middle-aged black woman appeared. Her sun-bleached brown and black hair in neatly-done dreadlocks.
“Only 10 pesos to do your head and neck.”
Stepping behind me, she began to massage my neck and shoulders briskly, the scent of perfumed coconut oil adding to the sensation.
“A full body massage is only 50 pesos”, she added.
Much drier now from the sun, heat and towel, my wife chimed in, “Go ahead and get one. I’ll treat you for Father’s Day.”
An Offer I Didn’t Refuse
Together they made me an offer I didn’t refuse. The Rasta woman spread our large cartoon character towel on the crystal sand. I prostrated myself on its moistness and in moments began to drift wonderfully away to the sensation of a thousand magic fingers on my sun-tanned skin and the aroma of perfumed coconut oil.
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