Love in the time of Bacunaua

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BY PETER SOLIS NERY
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Monday, November 13, 2017
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XVII. LONE COCONUT TREE

He gave her a broken shell

she gave him a sandwich

but those were beautiful times when

thoughts counted more than things.

*

Matt walked past a group of almost naked yuppies frolicking on the beach, dancing the “Limbo Rock” playing from a CD player.

He looked down on the infant, Whose baby is this?

Where did it come from?

Why had its mother and/or father abandoned it in the middle of the street?

The transvestite was right, it was irresponsible.

*

He walked past a couple making love standing up in the dark.

But what if this baby was lost by accident?

Matt felt sorry.

The parents must be going crazy, he thought, looking for the baby by now.

He headed away from the rambunctious crowd, saw a lone coconut tree—an old reliable lone coconut tree like a long lost friend.

A blast from the past!

*

He smiled with a sense of recognition.

About fifteen years ago, his grandmother, Mercedes, sat on a laid out red-checkered picnic blanket under the same coconut tree (tall, no coconuts) fixing a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich.

Matt recalled how wet he was. Just getting out of the cold water.

He ran to her, presented her a broken Murex shell, Look, Lola. A shell.

*

Mercedes identified the shell by its scientific name, Murex pectens. The Venus comb. A beautiful shell, she said.

You like it, Lola?

Mercedes nodded yes.

Then, it’s yours. Keep it, Matt said as he handed her the shell.

*

He adored his grandmother, proud that she knew so many things including scientific names of dinosaurs and shells.

Mercedes took the broken Murex, gave him a sandwich, and a sweet ‘Thank you, Matt!’

He took the sandwich, peeked at what was inside.

Peanut butter-and-jelly, wow! he exclaimed. It’s my favorite. Thank you, grandma.

Mercedes smiled then.

And now, fifteen years later, a smile formed on Matt’s face, too. (To be continued)/PN
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