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PARADISE By Lester Solnin My 1968 Ford "Mustang" has finally gasped it's last breath, right in the middle of the "Freeway." I stand by the car sulking as I pull off the cap of my last beer bottle awaiting for a tow truck. I called the "AAA" but at this point, any tow truck will do. I use the cell phone to place a call to my darling wife, Maxine. "Hello, Max?" "Hi, how are you?" "Look Max, I won't be home for a while. The car broke down, again." "I told you a long time ago to get rid of it. But, oh no, it's you're "treasure," Maxine sarcastically states. "I am not in a good mood now, so please lower the volume. I am in the middle of a Freeway awaiting a tow truck." "I'm sorry. Keep in touch, alright?" I lay myself against the car in the fourth lane, facing the cement median as not to show my face to any passerby. I can only wait as I have nothing to occupy my time with, except for my daydreams. I slowly close my eyes in deep thought and recall our honeymoon located in Costa Rica. If I recall correctly, it was on the Xandari Planation. The smells of gasoline passing under my nose become the smells of coffee, vegetables, and fruit that grow on the plantation. The sounds of passing cars transforms into the sounds of the five beautiful waterfalls. They are best to look at at sunset as the water divides the light into rainbows. I open my eyes and begin to smile as a passing semi transforms itself into a raft. Closing my eyes, I see us "whitewater" rafting along twenty miles of the Pacuare River. I take a deep breath as I smell the dense vegetation and the tropical rain forest. The sounds of car horns behind me become the sounds of animal life and the passing cars are monkeys playing in the trees. I really feel I should not open my eyes, for my daydream is much more exciting than reality, but, I do. I stand and look to see if a tow truck is approaching. None in the horizon as I glance at my watch to note eight minutes have gone by since the call to "AAA." I go into my hot "treasure," as Maxine calls it, and bring out my water bottle. Once again, I resume my position against the car facing the cement blocks, drinking the warm water. Once again, I close my eyes in hopes of reaching paradise that I have become entranced in. A cool breeze overcomes me as I re-enter my honeymoon. After whitewater rafting, we go back to the Xandari Plantation into our villa to dress up for supper. The food smells so good on the balcony of our villa that I can taste it now. We are serenaded by a local band as my head bows more to my legs. We are on our second day of our honeymoon with five days to go. I believe I can wait out the arrival of the tow truck with the scenes of beauty dancing in my head. I lapse more into my daydream as the sound of the cars are so distant, as they do not faze me. The next day we fly to Tango Mar Beach Hotel. Yes, it's beautiful by the seashore, however, not as elegant as the experience we had at Xandari plantation. Swimming in a fresh-water pool does not compare to white-water rafting but it relaxes me. As I begin to nod off in the pool, I notice that I have nodded off on the freeway. I knew I should have not had that beer as I glance at the bottle cap. I pick it up and attempt to flick it over the median. It hits the median and rolls some feet away. I am at the point of fatigue that I dare not go for it. I glance at my watch again as another four minutes tick off. I have a bad habit of glancing at my watch very often. Now, this watch has become unnecessary weight on my wrist as I remove it and place it my pocket. I say this for when I am in a fatigued mode, I barely remember I have underwear on. I know later on I'll be searching high and low for that watch. I attempt to nod off again when a sudden itch comes to my left foot. When I itch, I have to scratch it to "death." Another bad habit of mine. I take off my sneaker and notice blood stains visibly showing through my black sock. After several minutes of scratching, I again, attempt to nod off only to be interrupted by the same itch. I lick my fingers and roll down the sock. I spread my saliva on the area of my newly created wound. I take the sock and rub hard along where I placed my saliva on. Feeling better, I take a deep breath, and roll my sock back on. I dare not to place on sneaker for the fear the foot will itch again. I recall the mosquito bites that rampaged my body in Costa Rica. I wonder if I still have the mosquito spray repellent in my car. I look up at the car door then I bring my head down into my folded arms. I begin to panic as I am lost on a Freeway with all those cars passing me by and no place to go. I try to drown out the noise of cars and trucks as I seek my heaven in Costa Rica. I am alone right now. My cell phone rings. It's Maxine and I am alone no longer. "Are you still waiting for tow service?" "Yes, Max. I am and it's getting a little irritating at this point." "What number did you call and I'll check on the status." "Thanks Max," as I provide her with the phone number. Now why could I not think of that? I resume the same position as before, viewing the same cement median, the same scenery. I bow my head down and think of better times Maxine and I had. For example, every weekend, for the first five years of our marriage, we would get onto our Schwinn bicycles and explore the various parks and sites in our area. I have no idea as to why we halted this practice. It was a very fun time. The bikes sit our garage, collecting dust, while I am out here with an old and broken down Mustang. I stare at the empty bicycle holders on top of the car and pray for a miraculous appearance. Once I look back up at it, it is still empty. A few minutes later, Maxine calls to inform me that a truck should be by me in about ten minutes. I told her thanks and I begin to wonder how much water do I have left? I take another slurp and bow my head once more into my arms. Just then, a little excitement begins to fester in me as I feel I am in want to return to that tropical paradise as soon as we can. Chills along my spine begin to arouse my optimism and promise to ask Maxine as soon as I get home. I hear a horn behind me sounding like one coming from a tow truck. The operator with black hair and a black mustache begins the preparation of hooking my car to his tow truck. "What happened?" he asks. "The car died," as I respond dejectedly. "I can take this car of your hands, if you wish," the operator says while twirling his mustache, "it's a classic. Twirling on his mustache is making my foot itch again. "Right now, it's a pain in the neck as is my foot. By the way, could you please give me a lift home?" "Sure. You owe me seventy-five dollars for the tow and the ride home is free. That is, if you sign off your car to me." "I sure will. I'm going to call me wife and let her know of the seventy-five dollars. You'll be paid then." "Make sure she's outside." "No problem." I call Maxine on the cell phone and inform her of the arrangement I made with the tow truck operator. Her response "It's about time!" I am very comfortable in the cab of the tow truck for a couple of reasons. One there is a resolution and secondly, I am going to ask Max to go back to our old routine of bike riding together and taking a second honeymoon in a tropical paradise I wish I was back in. Most importantly, however, I now realize my treasure and my tropical paradise is home. (1160 words)"PARADISE" [E] |
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