Love in the time of Bacunaua

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BY PETER SOLIS NERY
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Wednesday, December 6, 2017
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XXVII. DULCE AMOR

Finally, she tells her story. He wished he could believe everything she said. He desperately wanted to believe in something.

*

Guitar strapped across his back, knapsack to his side, baby in his arms, Matt came out of the auditorium.

There weren’t many people in front of the auditorium gate now.

Not far away, he saw Dulce slumped on the ground, crying.

Matt approached her, Take my hand.

Dulce looked at his offered hand, looked at Matt. Then, after some moments of hesitation, took his hand.

*

He stood her up.

The beach? he asked.

Sniffling, Dulce nodded, held on to Matt’s arm.

They walked toward the beach.

Matt in silence, Dulce softly weeping.

The beach was pretty much the same as in the previous night: bonfires, groups of teenagers playing games, people dancing the “Limbo Rock,” yuppies getting drunk, couples making out in the dark.

*

You didn’t catch him?

Dulce sniffled.

That was dumb, he said. I mean, the question.

The answer is obvious. But I didn’t know what else to say.

Dulce dried her eyes with the back of her hand, smiled.

I knew he would come back. That’s why I came here this week.

When Emilio sees his son, I know he won’t leave us.

They continued to walk towards the lone coconut tree, reached the same spot as last night.

They sat.

*

Tell me about you, Matt said. Tell me about Emilio.

Dulce gathered her hair, placed it over one shoulder. Very well.

She came from a very poor family, she began.

A poor barrio in a poor town, 100% provincial, but her parents had great dreams for her.

They hoped that she would get a college education, become a professional, perhaps a teacher.

She dreamed of Prince Charming.

*

I showed early promise, she said. I graduated valedictorian in high school, was made a scholar—free tuition, to the university in the city.

Still, my parents had to work very hard to give me some money for an allowance.

My mother had to take in washing, she explained, to augment my father’s income from the farm.

When I turned 20, and Prince Charming still had not come, I knew I had to make good on my studies, and become a teacher as my parents had wanted. (To be continued)/PN
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