Domingo

We went to the beach again today. We had been waiting all week. Last Sunday, glorious sunshine rained down on the crimson waves that crashed onto the soft sand. Vendors sat under the shade of the immense sea grape trees. The sights and sounds of cold beer, fried fish and loud meringue music wafted through the grove and spilled over the throngs of beach goers basking in the golden rays.

Today was different. Low grey clouds menaced the harbor entrance. Dull brown waves lapped half-heartedly at the dung-colored grains. The grove was barren. It’s wide green leaves looked like empty dinner plates hanging in the lifeless breeze. Three Samoans sat on the roots of a sea grape tree staring at us like we were something sumptuous to eat. In front of them a group of children bobbed in the sluggish surf playing with a dead fish. A light rain began but the children took no notice as they tossed the fish carcass up into the mist like a broken kite missing its string. 
With no vendors around, we stopped at La Yola on the road back from the beach. It squats squarely atop a small hill facing the back of town. Their specialty is homemade chicken soup. They don’t sell a lot this time of year. We sat sipping the steaming broth, sweat pouring off our brows, as two young female employees stood transfixed in front of the television watching the telenovela, “La Favorita” on the small screen. You could’ve walked out with the cash box; they wouldn’t have noticed, except there wouldn’t have been any cash. We were the only customers.
A large black fly had glued itself to the glass tube. La Favorita must also had been its favorite. Whenever a close-up came on I thought, “Look. She’s got a fly on her nose!” or “Why is there a fly crawling around that guys ear?” A new actress, dressed in black with black hair and black nails, entered across the screen. The girls must not have liked her. They walked away and stood at the rail gazing at the last bits of light retreating from over the dusty village. The fly had no such reservations. It remained at its post as the actress screamed at her two-timing lover, a fly sitting on his head like a winged crown.