The Unauthorized Biography of Rosco P. Coltrane

When it's my moment in the sun, I won't forget that I am blessed, but every hero walks alone, thinking of more things to confess

My Photo
Location: Owensboro, Kentucky, United States


Friday, July 07, 2006

Kicking An Italian's Children: Friday the 26th

(Franco, the Italian whose children I did not kick)

Because a tropical depression had blown into the area, we could not go deep sea fishing like we did the year before. So instead getting up really early, we slept in a little bit until 8 o’clock. It was really nice and relaxing. My feet didn’t hurt nearly as much as they had the previous days, and I began to wonder if I had survived the worst with me feet.

On our way to the base, we stopped and talked with Manuel. We talked a little bit about the past week and all the hard work we had accomplished. He was digging a hole for a reason I now cannot remember. We told him that we were going to the beach. He smiled big and said that after the long workweek it would be quite refreshing. He asked me if I wanted to stick around for another week and work. I told him that I couldn’t, that I had to get back to work the next week. He asked me what I do for a living. I told him that I worked on scales. He asked me if I worked on scales that they used to make tortillas with. I told him no that I mostly work on digital scales that are primarily used to weigh chickens. He laughed and raised his spade shovel. This is my digital scale, he said. We all laughed. We all shook hands and I noticed that Manuel shook my hand fairly firm. It surprised me because most of the time people shake hands fairly limp. I smiled and told Manuel to have a good time back home for the weekend and that I hoped to see him again next year.

"Adios, Josua."

"Adios Manuel."

Everyone loaded up in a bunch of Suburbans and headed down towards Puerto Escondido. We rode in a car with Aaron, who had to stop at the airport to try and get his papers in order so that he could go home. After sitting in the car for about 20 minutes, Aaron came back all smiles, his proper papers in hand. We all clapped and hollered in celebration for Aaron. All week he had been talking about how he was supposed to go home a few weeks back, but never had all the right documents. Finally, he was going to get to go home and see his wife.

It was a rainy day in Puerto Escondido. I walked around with Casey, Brittney, and Bethany for a while. I bought some good (read: Cuban) cigars at a tiny bodega. Casey helped me pick out the cigars. I told the lady that I wanted the expensive. I have never been one to skimp when it comes to things like that. I wanted to buy some from my buddy Andrew, who was leaving for Orlando a few days after I got back. Bethany wanted to get a cigar for her fiancée. We walked around a bit, looking at hammocks and other tourist gift. Casey and I talked about trying to find some Cemento Cruz Azul soccer jerseys. Kyle came walking by and said that he had heard that there was a few shops where we could buy them up bear the farmer’s market. Jason said he wanted to go up to the farmer’s market so we drove up the town a little bit and passed a few soccer shops by. We walked around the farmer’s market and found no jerseys. Jason bought some chocolate and a bunch of flowers for his wife. He stopped at a little store on the way back towards the beach, but the man only had some small sized and dirty soccer jerseys.

When we got back down to the beach, we went into a small Italian restaurant, El Jarden. We gathered a bunch of tables and began to order our food. I stuck to the plain spaghetti and a beer. Kyle, who is underage here in the states, was really excited about getting a beer, but I don’t think he was very pleased with the beer that he got. The food came out sporadically. When I finally got my food, I asked the owner, Franco, about my beer and he apologized and got me one really quickly. The spaghetti was very good, but there was a lot of it and I had eaten all I could. When Franco, a middle-aged bald Italian with a slight belly, came back and looked art my plate.

"Did yoooy naught like de food?" he asked with a thick accent.

"Oh yes, it was great," I replied.

"Well, yoooy ded naught fenesh it. Do yoooy naught lauve me? Do yoooy want too keck mi children?"

"No, no," I said, "I don’t want to kick your children. I love the food. I love you, Franco. I am just full."

"Whin yoooy do naught fenesh yoooy food, I think yoooy do naught like me, yoooy naught like my food."

I realized what I had to do. I got my fork and finished the last few bites of my spaghetti. I scraped the plate and washed it all down with my beer. He smiled back at me.

"Good, yoooy lauve me and yooou lauve my spaghetti," he said as he took my plate. We spent probably another hour at the restaurant trying to figure out how much everyone owed on the check. I was willing to over pay just so that I could leave, but they still wanted to split the check 32 ways. I knew exactly how much my beer cost and exactly how much my spaghetti cost, and included 50 percent more than what I owed to include taxes and tip. But when it was split, it came out to less than I was willing to pay. (I have never thought that splitting a check and averaging the cost is a good way to break things down. I have always figured that you either pay exactly how much you owe or you pick up the entire check. I usually just like to pick up the entire check, but I couldn’t do that for 32 people.)

I walked down the beach side with Casey and Brittney. We walked in a little surf shop where they bought a couple of T-shirts. We kept on walking around until we finally decided to sit down at a little cabana on the beach. I smoked a cigar and drank a really good margarita. We watched the surfers and just talked for a bit. It was nice and relaxing. We watched Kyle surf and winced in unison when Kyle and a small Mexican boy collided on a big wave.

We met down near a little ice cream shop right before it was time to go. I sat down at a little table next to Sarah and Jamie. They talked about some of the less pleasant parts of their trip and I just sat there and listened. I was stunned at what all they told me. After they finished talking, or more correctly I told them to stop talking, I walked out near the street. Kyla was standing on the steps and giving out massages. She gave me one and I offered to marry her, buy her a car, or buy her a house. It was that good of a back massage.

Right before we all loaded up to go back to the base, I ran over to a vendor and bought a little Spider-man ball for my little buddy Daniel.

On the ride back, everyone was kind of tired and mellow. I got my earphones out and put one in my ear and Terra put one in her ear. We listen to some tunes on the way back and we both agreed that Ryan Adams is a great songwriter and a colossal jerk. She also gasped breathlessly when Damien Rice came on the MP3 player.

Everyone split up when we got back to the base. I went back to the Cacalote house when we got back. I laid down for a bit and then took a shower. I went back to the base that night and everyone was kind of hanging out. Some people said that they were going to watch Hotel Rwanda back at the clinic. Though it is a great movie, I didn’t really want to watch it that night. So I skipped out on that and went over to find Daniel. I gave him the Spider-man ball. He smiled the way only children smile and the way I wish I could still smile. We played for almost an hour in the small courtyard. He kept on trying to imitate the tricks I was doing with the ball. The base was also showing A Walk To Remember for everyone as well. Daniel was called away by his mother right before the movie started. I looked around and noticed everyone was putting on bug spray. It was the first time I saw any of the native putting on bug spray so I knew I should get back and put some on.

Some people were hanging out at the guesthouse and talking. Kyla came up and wanted to take a walk. We walked around the base a few times and stuck our heads into see Mandy Moore overdubbed in Spanish. We sat on the back porch and talked for a bit, just listening to the ocean break in the close distance. We heard some music coming from inside the guesthouse and saw the other group from the states performing some really weird dance to some really fast music. It was so bizarre that even now, I can’t fully described what I saw.

After a while, I got tired and said goodnight to everyone. I made my way back to the Cacalote house, this time with a key to the gate. Inside the house, the residents were watching Flightplan. Weird how Friday nights are movie nights no matter where you are.


Post a Comment

<< Home