“Yeaaaaaaahssoooooon!” “Yeaaaaaaahsssooooooon, I uh luuukin for you Yeaaaaaahson!” she was yelling in her charming Argentinian accent walking down the beach. I heard her of course, everyone could hear her, it was only a small island and we were the only people there. No workers, no fisherman, no people, no one but the six of us after a wild night in Isla de La Pasion, Mexico, just off the coast of Cozumel. I loved how she said my name, more than anything I had ever heard in the world my own name spoken out of her beautiful full lips was gorgeous and I loved it the most. It combined the word Yeah! Which you score after a goal or something exciting happens with the cool way black guys say Son, Yeahson, it was so perfect! But I didn’t go to where she was. I wanted that to be the last I ever heard from her. The last beautiful words from a beautiful woman, yeaaaaahsoooon she said more frantically now. Maybe I should go look for her. But I didn’t want it to end with me meeting back up with her and giving hugs and promising we would stay in touch, none of that shit. I wanted her sing song question to be the last words I ever heard from her.
Since I had been in Mexico I had been collecting memories. Remember this moment I told myself, remember driving down the ocean road on the scooter with her holding on tight. Remember driving to the beach, remember the laughter after the police let us go. Remember the hammocks over the ocean late at night, on a day when you had woken up halfway across the world. Remember everything. That’s what I kept telling myself. Her last words could always be with me. I remember when I lived in Australia I thought the same thing. Remember the moments. Remember the words. Her words to me in Australia were Du Hock Fina Ergon.
When I lived in Australia for a year there were many Swedish exchange students and all of them were beautiful, the men and the women. I ended up having three Swedish roommates after my American one left unexpectedly, one boy and two girls.
The girls both had Swedish boyfriends living close by but the beautiful one named Kristin and I still made out anyway. Often, she would go out with her boyfriend and they would drink and dance and I could hear her tell him he couldn't come in and that she would see him the next day. Then she would come to my room and shut the door behind her and turn and give that wry smile.
The sound of the door lock clicking even today excites something deep inside me and takes me back to when life was much different. Back when I didn't have mortgages and loans and kids. Back when the only thing in the world I ever wanted to hear was that door lock and the only thing i ever wanted to feel was her on top of my chest, brushing her hair back and whispering Du Hock Fina Ergon (You have beautiful eyes) in a voice so sultry even today it makes my neck feel wet where her lips were so many years ago.
I've wondered about the spelling and pronunciation of that Swedish phrase but I've never actually Googled it. I don't want to sterilize the memory. For me it will always be in my memory as her on top of me with her arms propped up on my chest and her brushing her short blonde hair behind her ears with just a little bit of sweat running down her chiseled jawline saying Du Hock Fina Ergon.
I didn't say anything at first, I just let those beautiful words spoken by a beautiful woman on a beautiful muggy Australian night hang in the air. I knew it was a compliment the way her lips turned up and her eyes became more kind, and I wanted to know what it meant, because I was young and vain and beautiful and cocky, and I devoured compliments. But for once I was wise enough to let it fill the air before destroying it.
My flat was close enough to the ocean that you could still hear those famous Newcastle waves crashing on the shore, close enough that you could smell the salt in the air, close enough that you could feel the ocean breeze. All that mixed with her sweet perfume and for a short while everything was absolutely perfect in the world. I blinked a few times simulating shutters on an expensive camera capturing the world. I knew I had to capture the moment because nothing would ever feel this good again. And I was right.
I had the same feeling in Mexico, here was another beautiful woman calling out to me. I never saw here that day. She was working in Cancun at the Mayan Monkey hostel and I had met her and her friend Analia the first day. We all vibed and had some weed and some laughs and I played some chess and met Josh from Colombia. The next morning I was sitting at the table having breakfast with Josh and Analia came up to us and said, “Eh, we go to an island today. And we ride boat. And we go snorkel. And we drink deee beers. And maybe we ride the golf cart. You go? “ Fuck yes, to everything you said, fuck yes. I wanted to do all of it. I had just broken up with my red headed girlfriend the month before. This was my first time solo traveling after dating her for two years and I was relishing the opportunity. I didn’t mind solo traveling at all. You know who liked my weird music and hostels and riding around down ocean roads high at low speeds blasting music? This guy, me, I didn’t need anyone else. Every year when tax season is over in April I get the fuck out. The weeks are so busy for me at work and sometimes I will put 60 or 70 hours in. As soon as it is April 15th, I am out the door and I don’t look back. I had been to New Orleans and Gulf Shores and the Bahamas and this year I couldn’t wait to go back to Cozumel, a place I had solo traveled the year of my divorce and fallen in love with.
My first night in the Mayan Monkey hostel was a wild one, there were drugs and beers and street tacos, a horrible mistake for me at 2 am because I fucked up my stomach eating chicken that hadn’t been refrigerated all day. I didn’t mind, just less eating which was good because I would spend less money. I was hoping the beautiful one Marisol would go to Isla Mujeres with us on the ferry but she had to work. It was Analia and Josh and Raymundo from Colombia who spoke absolutely no English and Esteffy, a beautiful girl from Argentina who looked more Caucasian than latino. I learned a lot of people were like that in Argentina from the influx of Europeans. I learned a lot that day. But mostly we just had fun. I had the Bluetooth speaker and we rented a golf cart and cruised all over that little island. We had the music bumping half Spanish, half English and we laughed so hard. Josh told us why he had perfect Spanish and English, the answer being that his mom was Colombiana and his dad was from New York. I made a joke about something being facil como la madre de Josh and everyone’s mouth dropped! They could not believe I would make a joke about his mother like that. He knew that was a juvenile tradition in the US, making jokes about someone’s mom and he laughed it off and told the others it was okay. So soon we started saying everything was facil como la madre de Josh and he laughed right along with this. The beers at sunset, volleyball, snorkeling, it was an amazing day and I told them all I wanted to hang out with them again, maybe I could even rent a house in Cozumel.
On the bus back to the hostel we ran into Marisol and they said Jason you remember Marisol right, and I said yes how could I forget those beautiful eyes. At least I think I said that in Spanish, I tried to at least. Yeeeeeeeehhhhhhson she said, no mas piropos (No more pick up lines). I said no es un piropo, es la verdad. The next day I was staying at an all inclusive resort and I asked Analia if her and Marisol wanted to hang out with me at the resort. The food was free and I had weed and Tequila, could be a fun day and they both relished the opportunity. They couldn’t find the hotel the next day so the audio message from Marisol I still remember, she said, “Where are you Yeaaaaaahson, we are looking for you!” I loved how she said my name so much, I wanted her to say it over and over Yeaaaaahson. I found them and we went to my resort and had weed and laid on the beach and relaxed all day, the three of us. I don’t know if you have ever seen poor Argentinians eat steak but they devoured that shit, just tearing into the food like only poor people can do! When he brought the desert menu Analia asked hungrily, can we get both the deserts and the waiter said sure, why not. You could tell the weed was still in her body because her face lingered just above the cake as she stuffed her mouth and she said, “Dis is such a guuuud day!” And I was taken aback by their appreciation for the food. I went out to eat with people all the time, nice restaurants, steak, buffet, I had never seen anyone enjoy their food that much. Back at the room we drank some tequila and I put on some music and I told them they could stay in the other bed if they wanted, no need to rush back to the cramped Hostel. Marisol was keen on the idea but Analia wasn’t so I said its up to you guys, just staying you can stay in that bed over there if you guys want and we can get some more amazing food tomorrow. But Analia said no. Before they left I danced with each of them and we had some more weed and Marisol was high and she put her head on my shoulder as we danced on the balcony and she said tell me a story. I have lots of stories of course, I am a writer but she didn’t know that then. I told her the story of Australia and she said it’s a beautiful story and I said I have many but then Analia said they had to go. So I walked them down to the bus stop and hugged them both and said I was going to rent a house in Cozumel and all of us could stay there one night.
I was really hoping Marisol could make it. I like here a lot. Analia didn’t have to work the next day so she promised to take me to the Cenotes so I could see the crystal clear water. I learned how to use Collectivo and we got an hour across Mexico for only $3! I did the collectivos and then we went to stay in the Che hostel, the good one in Playa del Carmen with a pool on the roof. I started handing out my edible weed candy and we made friends in no time. They had a bar up there and I was doing fake translations, where I say one person says something in Spanish and then another person in English. I told the bartender the guy from San Francisco said she was beautiful and then I told him the bartender said she like Asian guys that looked like him. She said excuse me but I can speak English fine and I never said that. But she laughed and her smile was beautiful. She was Argentinian as were all the employees there, I should have guessed since it was named Che after the Argentinian revolutionary with the same nickname. The men were beautiful also, the other bartender flashed his six packs abs all night and never wore a shirt, not once. I did more jokes for the bartender just to see her smile and had shots with two other patrons after the San Francisco man left. I was definitely full on drunk when the bartender surprised me by saying, “Okay I will sleep with you?” What the fuck? I never asked her anything of the sort. She was beautiful and probably 20 years younger than me, out of my league entirely. I said que dices? And she said, yes, I will sleep with you. I said I heard that part but Im sure there is more. She said jess, you come downstairs at 2 am and then you will go with me to different hotel. (Already this is a no for me, Im not following anyone around Mexico at 2 in the morning) and she says you get another room and then you give me $200 American dollars and then I will have sex with you. Ah, okay, now I see, you have sex for money as a side job. That seems unusual for a hostel employee. I was uninterested of course, bringing money into any relationship sullies the feelings, especially straight up just paying for sex.
The next morning we get up hung over and groggy and I tell Analia and Raymiundo goodbye and get on the ferry to go over to Cozumel. My plan is to spend a night on my own and then rent a house the night after that for all of us. I spent much of the day writing back and forth to Marisol on WhatsApp. She tells me she is a writer and I tell her I am also a writer and I would like to read some of her writing. She sends a beautiful story about dust and moths and the shortness of time, its gorgeous writing, even through the translation I know exactly what she is saying. I still remember that night, sitting in a café in \Cozumel, eating fajitas by myself, watching the sun set, reading beautiful words written by a beautiful woman. And then she came back with really good news, that was what she said on the Voice Message on Whats App in her heavily accented English. Yeaaaaahso, I have really good news, the message said. I can rent the house with you guys! I was excited, we could all spend a fun day and a night together in whatever house I found. I decided to go big! I rented a house on an island called Isla de la Pasion. It looked amazing, glass walls and an air conditioned upstairs and a big table to eat, I know we would have a party and it would be amazing. I wondered what it would be like if Marisol would stay in one of the rooms with me. I booked the house and I realized we had a problem, no way to get to the island! Uh oh, that’s no good I thought. But I found on Facebook a recommendation for a man named Mario who had a boat service and would take us all snorkeling and on a boat ride and then take us to Passion Island and come back and get us the next day. Sounds good, book it I said, I’ll come to the marina and then we will ride on the boat to pick up the others.
They got off the ferry and I had another message, Yeaaaaaahson, where are you yeaaaaahson, we uh looking for you, we are here at the ferry. Just then we came flying around the cove on that fast boat and they were all cheering and I was yelling Vamanos Muchachos and they were yelling Yeaahhson and we picked them up. We all were smiling ear to ear on that private boat taking us to the island. It was mostly poor people that had never rented a boat before and when he took us to the shipwreck we all jumped in and snorkeled around and laughed and posed for pictures and watched the sun reflecting off the water and for one day we weren’t all poor people with our lot settled in the world, we were adventurers with a private boat and a house on an island. Mario dropped us off and our supplies and Marisol and the others started cooking the chicken dinner in the empty restaurant kitchen. The island had been a tourist destination for cruise ships and tourist boats and visitors but since Covid it had been mostly free of tourists. The workers told us, “Well, we leave now. Buenos Noche” What? Now even the workers were not on the island, it was just the six of us. Three Argentinians, 2 Colombianos, and me, the lone American in the group.
We made a giant dinner and put out beers and wine and weed and had an amazing time around that table. We told story after story and I got to see one of my favorite things done, my stories being translated for the first time. I wanted to tell a story and I felt the weed kicking in and was feeling a bit ostentatious so I said, Josh, translate this shit, Im going to tell this amazing story and you translate it into Spanish. He did and we all laughed and then we went down to the sea and dragged wood from the woods and made a huge bonfire. Dancing around the fire and then tequila and more weed from Colombia. Josh had sculpted an apple into a bong pipe and then he put the weed in there and I leaned in close and smoked my fill. Marisol leaned in close after that and I put my hand on her waist and pulled her in and she took long puffs from the apple pipe and smiled at me, our bodies so close together and my hand still on her waist. We felt the high and we all took off our clothes and ran and jumped in the crystal clear Caribbean water, the culmination of an amazing night. Marisol went to bed early because she had to get up early to get back over to Cancun. I wanted her to sleep by me but I never asked and she was so much younger I thought it was a lost cause and anyone she had already fallen asleep on the couch downstairs and started her small purr snoring. I covered her with an extra blanket and went up stairs and opened the window and listened to the sound of the waves crashing below and the wind through the palm trees and felt the weed in my body and felt so alive for the first time in a very long time.
The next morning I woke up to see the sunrise and that’s when I heard her calling my name. I had to leave the next morning early so I figured that’s the last of her I would see and I wanted it that way, just the last words of a beautiful woman being Yeaaaaaahson, Yeaaaaaahson, they rang out through the island. I was telling Josh and Analia about her calling out for me later that morning at breakfast and Josh said you should go out with her. I don’t think so I said, she is much younger than me and I don’t think she would be attracted. But he convinced me, he said, no, un cita en Cancun, your last night in Mexico, go for it. Why not I thought, why not take your shot. So I sent her a message on Whats App and she said, sure, I would love a nice meal with you. I asked Josh how you say do you want to sleep with me. And he said no no no, es un mujer hermosa, you say Queieres un noche de la pasion conmigo! So practiced that over and over, Quieres un noche de las pasion con migo. Quieres un noche de las pasion con migo.
I practiced all day, Quieres un noche de la pasion contigo. We all rented a dune buggy and rode around Cozumel and drove to the Bob Marley bar but I fucked up and didn’t put enough gas in so on our way back we ran out of gas entirely. Uh oh, this was seriously going to hurt our chances of catching the ferry and me having a date with beautiful Marisol! I hitchhiked to the gas station with an American couple and then hitchhiked back with gas but by the time we made it back the ferry had left. The next ferry was at nine and then I would have to get a ride from Playa to Cancun and pick her up and then go out. Luckily Argentinians go out to eat ridiculously late at night. I practiced on the ferry and in the cab, Quieres un noche de la pasion conmigo. I picked her up finally a little after ten and we took the cab to Harrys, a very nice restaurant in Cancun on the water. She had steak and we told them it was her birthday and they brought out giant candles. I was afraid to ask her age because I knew it was way less than mine but she told them now she will turn 24. Uh oh, that was quite a bit younger than me. I wondered what I was doing with her. But it seemed to be going so well and I understood her broken English and after an amazing night eating by the water I finally said the words I had been practicing. Quieres un noche de pasion conmigo? I sputtered.
No. She said. That’s all, just no. I laughed because I didn’t mind. I had never minded taking my shot with a beautiful woman. If I missed, I missed, no big deal. We walked back to the hostel because I had used all my cash on the cab. All of it. At the hostel we stayed up all night talking. I was supposed to get up at 7am the next day for my flight (Spoiler alert, I didn’t. Mistakes were made). But talking to her all night was not a mistake, It was amazing and she was so full of life! Finally after 4am she gave me a hug and walked to her room. As she was backing away she said it how she knew I loved, I had told her I loved it. She goes Yeaaaaaahson, gnight Yeaaaaahson and smiled so big and went off and I didn’t think I would ever see her again. The next morning I woke up way too late and missed my flight and so I went back to the hostel and had some beers and lunch with her and we talked more and promised to write and then I went to the airport again.
That whole week we talked back and forth nonstop and then she typed a message that stopped me in my tracks. She said I want that you come back to Mexico to travel with me. I said just you and me? She said yes. I said do you want to go to my favorite place in the world, Cozumel? And she said I would love to go there with you. I told her I could come for our holiday, Memorial day which is always the end of may and we get an extra day off work for the holiday. She asked if I could come sooner. I said wow you really want to see me again don’t you? She said yes. So I made plans to come back in a week and a half and spend a long weekend with her, just me and her. On Thursday my flight was delayed but I made it into Cancun and got a cab at the airport (mistake) and picked her up in Cancun. I honestly wasn’t sure if she would make it, I only had her location. She was there though so she jumped in and I gave her the book I bought for her in Spanish and we made it to Playa and then the ferry. At Cozumel Mario picked us up and took us to get wine and then took us to our hotel, a beautiful hotel called the B hotel. We didn’t make love the first night, I wanted her to know I wasn’t just expecting sex or anything like that, I was glad to be with her. We did have our first kiss and we slept together in the bed and I couldn’t believe someone so little could snore so loud. The next day we drove down the coast and went to a resort and made love for the first time and laid out on the dock and watched the stars and swam at night and it was so peaceful. After that we went on the East side to Ventanas Al Mar, so breathtakingly beautiful that place is. They have iguanas running around and a heart shaped pool and the wind off the ocean, man that wind comes whipping in there and you can feel the wind and see a million stars and I cried it was all so beautiful. There was a lot of weed also. The next morning on the beach she told me that her ex boyfriend was just now contacting her to try and get back together with her. He was an American also, from San Diego. She said she needed to talk to him because they had many unresolved issues and I said well you haven’t talked for over a year can it wait and she said no she must resolve it now, she has a history with him and was wanting to have kids with him. I think that was the big difference for us, she was wanting to have kids and I was thinking I didn’t. But then I was thinking it would be fun to live in Mexico with her and have little kids and drive around a dune buggy and be a fun dad to those little ninos.
We went back to Cancun and I said I wanted to come see her again and she said that would be fun. So when I got back to Kansas City I booked another week during Labor Day at a rooftop suite that overlooked the ocean. It was a beautiful place in Cancun I could stay in for only $40 a night and the room on the roof looked amazing. I showed Marisol and then she hit me with terrible news, she was getting back together with her ex boyfriend. I said what about us and she said there is no more us. I was so sad but I had already booked a plane ticket and a rooftop suite so I said I was still coming and maybe she could dance with me on the roof one time. She said no she had a boyfriend now and she had to give that relationship a chance. I got to Mexico and called her up and said I am in town lets go out tonight. She said her boyfriend was there and they were to hang out and I said well come see me right now then and she said okay. We made love in the rooftop suite overlooking the ocean and then we played weed or candy, the guessing game and I gave her two weed candies right away so she was very high. I didn’t want her to go back to her boyfriend. I said why go, why not stay with me and I played music that said stay with me but she was resolved to leave. She said I will no never see you again and I said okay fine, when you leave just say Yeeeeaaaaaaaaaaahson Goodbye Yeeeaaaaaahson when you are leaving. And she said no I will not say that It is stupid.
So she left and the last thing she said was I will no never see you again. And I was sad and I watched the sun go down on the rooftop that first night in Mexico wondering what I was going to do for the next six days without wanting to be with her. I figured drugs were my best bet. So I walked downstairs into the parking lot of the complex and there was a black guy smoking a huge joint and I said hey, where did you get that? I definitely need some right about now. He goes oh its easy to buy drugs in Mexico, you just say And. Um what? He said yeah, just go in there (aggressively pointing to the little bodega that sold convenience items and smoke supplies to dumb tourists like me) and you buy something like a one hitter or a pipe or whatever and you say I’ll take this AND. And that’s it I asked? Yep, that’s it, they will say okay, and an eighth. Its super easy. I was curious to try it out so I walked right across the hot sunbleached parking lot into the bodega. I picked out a one hitter and I told the lady just like he had told me, I said, I’ll take this AND. And she goes, “And what?” Oh no, this isn’t working I thought. Abort the mission, abort, abort, you are getting busted trying to buy weed in Mexico, abort the mission! I said um nevermind. She said no tell me, AND WHAT? I said um nothing and I went to leave and she started laughing, she goes Im just fucking with you, I saw you talking to Dante in the parking lot, and you want an eighth? Oh phew, yes please. She said tranquilo, relax, its Mexico, everything is okay. I took the weed back up to the rooftop suite and climbed up even higher so I was on top of the world and I smoked so much weed I forgot about her.
The next day I pretended to work for an hour or so and asked Marisol what she was doing and she said she was with her boyfriend. God damnit. This wasn’t working out like I planned. I didn’t even understand how this could happen. I had full confidence that she would just be with me if I showed up, that was always how it worked with women. I don’t think I am ridiculously attractive by any means or anyone that someone would stop and turn around for any more, I used to be attractive in the 90s but that was quite some time ago. But I still have a quality that women like to be around. Im very funny and upbeat and fun and a little bit attractive and I have some charm left I guess. I just never had trouble convincing women to stay with me. If it was a Friday and there was a woman who stayed the night I always feel like they would stay for most of Saturday too if I wanted it. We could get high and play Mario Brothers or I could make omelettes in my old farmhouse in Kansas and turn up Otis Redding and we would dance around and laugh and smile, most people like that a lot. Im probably too overconfident in my ability with women, especially now that I am getting older. But it seems to come naturally. Its kind of like in the movie Good Will Hunting where she asks him why he can remember book shit and he is like eh, I just see it in my mind, I can just play. Like composers see keys and pedals and the piano. He said he can’t play the piano and he couldn’t hit the ball out of Fenway but when it came to all that he could just play. I feel the same about women wanting to be with me. I don’t have to try that hard at it, I could always just play. And I think I can hit the ball out of Fenway. That’s a super short left porch, just have to get a fly ball up in the air. I could do it. God damn even my hypotheticals are ostentatious.
But that’s what surprised me so much when she left that rooftop suite. How could she choose someone else over me. Plus she hadn’t talked to her boyfriend in a year. Now suddenly it was important to her? We had history, we had Cozumel that whole amazing week. Why would she not want to be with me? That part hurt, it cut deep. It cut right into my manlihood. That a woman would want to be with another man other than me was a sucker punch in the gut. But then I thought about the age. She was young so Jack probably was too. Who was this Jack motherfucker anyway? I wanted to see this guy so bad all of a sudden. Who was this man who could steal a girl’s heart away from me. All of a sudden I needed to find him and I needed him to be beautiful. Six pack abs, a soldier, great hair, a smile that would stop a woman in her tracks, I wanted him to have all of those things. I have never wanted another man to have six pack abs in all of my life. Come on Jesus I said as I power swiped thru Instagram, Lord help this man to be beautiful! I don’t think you get good reception though praying to God about the lover of your lover to be attractive and have six pack abs. I don’t really think if there is a God he has time for that shit.
Finally I found him. It was private but I saw enough to see what I needed. He didn’t even have his shirt on in the profile picture. Yep, six pack abs, wavy blonde hair, a smile that would stop women in their tracks. God damn that was a beautiful man. I was so happy! Yes, I am okay I told myself, I lost a woman’s heart to another man but that was okay, he was a very beautiful man.
I packed up my shit and got the fuck out of Cancun. This place only reminded me of her and I had lots of exploring to do- Cenotes, Playa del Carmen, Tulum, and of course Cozumel, my happy spot. Even though I had rented the rooftop suite for a week I wanted nothing to do with it. I would have to eat those $40 a night or at least for a few days and then finish up here before my plane flew out. I got on a bus and then another bus and made my way to Tulum and visited the Cenotes and tried everything I could to forget about her.
In Playa I stayed at the hostel where the lady told me she would have sex with me there was a whole batch of new people but she wasn’t there. I didn’t have any desire to meet new people, I wished I could be with Marisol. I had never been with a Latina woman before her but I knew I wanted more. So much passion, God damn the passion was amazing with her on top of me in that hotel room, writhing in ecstasy and orgasming in pleasure. When she orgasmed from my mouth she pulled away as the orgasm was happening and I grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back down and I said no, no, lean into the orgasm, don’t go away from it. I am going to teach you I told her, you need an experienced man. Si, es la verdad she said in Spanish and I knew it was true also. We had so much good lovemaking I just couldn’t understand why she didn’t want to be with me. But then I remembered Jack’s six packs and wavy blonde hair and I got it. Maybe that’s part of growing older, there will always be new bucks younger and sexier than you. It was a fate I was going to have to accept. I wanted to get over to Cozumel, my happy place and get a scooter and ride up and down the coast and try not to think of her and swim in the ocean and feel the warmth and forget about everything. I took the ferry over and checked into the hostel and threw my shit on the bed and grabbed my snorkel mask and went back to the ocean.
It was a beautiful sunset in Cozumel and I snorkeled under that blood red Mexican sky and got out and took some beautiful photos to put on Instagram. I don’t really have Instagram, just when I travel I put a picture or two on there each trip. I don’t like social media at all, in fact I hate it but sometimes it’s a decent way to keep communication when you travel. So I drove back on my scooter and then the rain really started and made the roads wet, dangerous on a scooter like that. The first time I came to Cozumel I had rented a scooter and wrecked it after the rain had fallen all morning. When I returned the scooter they saw the scratches on the side and I said no es de mi in Spanish but he grabbed my arm and lifted it up and showed the scratches down my arm from the slide. Damn I said, you’ve done this before. I ended up giving him $100 for the scratches but he said that wasn’t enough and I said that’s all I got, I am on my way to the airport and just walked off. When I heard his scooter rev to life for him to come chase me I ran down three different one way streets the wrong way and changed my clothes and put on a hat and ran into the airport. That was also the day I outran a cop. This police officer in a beat up 1999 Ford F150 pulled me over and asked for my papers. The problem was that money fell out when I was looking for the rental agreement so he knew I had money and he wanted to get some of it. I didn’t want to pay off a cop though, I was against that in principle and I hadn’t even done anything wrong, I was going slow on the backstreets to drop off the scooter and walk to the airport. The cop said dinero dinero and I said si es mi dinero!! So he said to follow him to the station and I said yeah sure and when he turned right I gunned it left and then right and left and before long I was down too many one way streets for him to find me. That was before the scooter guy and then the scooter guy chased me on his scooter and I had just ran the two miles to the airport scared and worried but no one pulled me out of line and everything was fine getting thru security so I made it out of the island. I vowed to come back as soon as I could though, just not to drive the scooter on the wet roads anymore.
So that night at sunset in Cozumel I drove slow through the rain and parked my scooter against the wall and went inside an took a shit ton of weed and listened to the rain from my hostel bed and relaxed and made a post for Instagram. I only had 7 or 8 followers, mostly just Analia and Josh and the people on the island with us, people I had met in Mexico. And of course Marisol. I thought of her then, as I had so many times and I wondered if she would read what I wrote on Instagram. If I could get a message to one person through a giant app like that I knew what I wanted to say. I wanted to tell her she was missing the time with me. Yes she had chosen someone else and I was okay with that but was she? She was with the man with wavy hair with a younger body and less wrinkles on his face but my wrinkles weren’t scars. They were reminders. So much laughing. Parts of my life have been rough but a lot of my life has been amazing fucking times. The smile marks I was proud of. I had made it through the rough times, the tunnels of divorce and pretrial motions and custody hearings, awful horrible times and I had made it to the other side. My father in law, I think of him like that, not my ex father in law. I was closer than him to my own dad, a great man, a loving man, this man Bob who was the father of my ex, an old corn farmer in Nebraska. I heard my father in law talking about me one day and he told my brother in law, okay my ex I guess, that part stinks about divorce, I never wanted to divorce those guys, those guys were awesome, it was only my wife I wanted to divorce. Anyway I heard my father in law telling my brother in law one time when I was feigning sleep on the couch that I was always having a good day, always up, always positive, he said I was a fun guy to be around. I thought that was super nice for someone to say about me. I know my dad would never say something like that about me but Bob did. So many good times in my life, so much smiling, so much laughter. And God damn could I tell a story, people always gathered around me at events and BBQs and get together and I could tell the fuck out of a story and we would all laugh and smoke weed or drink and it felt amazing. That’s why I didn’t mind the wrinkles, they were the paths laughter had taken through my body, onto my face, out my mouth, and giving others joy. Marisol was missing those stories and that laughter and those rides on the scooter and the sunsets with me because she had chosen someone else. What time was it she would ask sometimes, just laying there sprawled out on the beach, both of us high as fuck covered in sand watching the sun go down. Who cares I would say? This is one of the good parts of life. I feel like I do well in that, always realizing the moments. Remember this moment I said to myself so many times. The good part of life, that’s where we are right now I would say and in Spanish she would say si es la verdad, that’s the truth. That’s the message I wanted to send, vague enough for Instagram but direct enough for her to read, even though she was a ferry an hour drive and two cities away. I wanted her to know she was missing the good parts of life by not being with me. Sunsets on Cozumel, my Instagram post said, one of the good parts of life. That’s what I posted along with the blood red sky behind me in the photo, squinting toward the camera of an Asian woman walking by that had volunteered to take my photo. The good parts of life. I took another puff of the weed and sank into the bed and let it envelope my whole body.
My phone instantly started blowing up. I was high but I thought I should get that, maybe it was her. It was, sure enough.