The girl from the lagoon
Chapter 12. The Atlantic Coast and its Caribbean pirates
Cholula, Puebla, México
I loved Grandfather’s sudden bouts of childhood. To me he was Peter Pan incarnated, brought back to life in full color and sound! He had the courage to stop being an adult for a long-lasting moment, and embrace the joy of being young, with all that it’s worth! And so, in that regard, he was eternal. Yes, how I delighted to join him and to play by his side, for he opened that door, for me to step through, his Wendy and faithful playmate, into that magical world of his boundless imagination.
Humming a song, popular back then, we headed point-blank towards a wide street, smack in the center of the city. As we descended towards the street, he raised his voice and sang with that powerful voice that he reserved for Carlos Mejia’s songs. Luckily, there wasn’t any traffic at all; the street he had picked was empty and with no cars in sight. Holding my breath, we bounced a bit on landing, but eventually, the plane slowed its pace to a crawl. We taxied down the street, while a man wearing a big, wide-brimmed white hat signaled flapping a red cloth. He pointed to a big empty lot, conveniently flat. Grandfather carefully steered the plane into the lot, following his animated directions, and turned off the motors, laughing hilariously all the while.
When we finally emerged from the plane, I was amazed at the small crowd that had collected out of nowhere. Thinking back, I still don’t have the faintest idea, where those people gathered from. The crowd was between us and the street, and as we advanced, began to cheer, whistle and shout good-naturedly, offering the warmest of welcomes. Evidently Grandfather was not only well-known in the city; the man was well-loved, as well!
It took him a while until everyone in the crowd was properly greeted. A beautiful young girl emerged among the throng, taller than most, and wearing a broad smile on her face. She walked barefoot and was dressed in light clothes. Her skin was copper-toned, from a life outdoors in the tropical sun. Hugging Grandfather affectionately, she pulled us away from the crowd. She held on to his hand with her left hand and to mine with her right. Hand in hand and side by side, we walked down the avenue, until we reached the town’s other street, bordering the harbor by the side of the lagoon.
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