Concrete Ideas - The Coconut Chronicles: Two Guys, One Caribbean Dream House - page 121

“No, we thought just a dorm fridge and a microwave. Think breakfast, not dinner.”
“Smart,” Steve said. “If they want to roast a turkey they can do it upstairs.”
There were other details to discuss—which windows would have glass louvers and
which would have metal, the style of vanity for the bathroom—but essentially the big de-
cisions were made.
We wrote Steve a hefty deposit check and sent him on his way.
☼ ☼ ☼
The next morning we went shopping for ceramic tile. Unfortunately, not many places in
Vieques sell this particular item. And when they do, the choice is usually abysmal.
But we spotted exactly what we wanted the minute we walked into Nales , the island's
biggest hardware store—a weathered terra cotta tile in thirteen-by-thirteen inch squares.
Perfect.
In fact, it seemed too good to be true.
“It's great, but they won't have nearly enough in stock,” I said to Michael in my best
doom-and-gloom voice.
“Let's find out,” he said. He took the sample to the desk and asked about quantities. No
one knew.
“Could you tell us who would know?”
Blank stares. Not unfriendly, not unhelpful, just blank.
Michael, looking taller than his already considerable height of six-four, stalked out of
the store and into the lumberyard with the tile in hand.
“ ¡Hola! ” he shouted to the first person he saw.
That unlucky soul ambled over and listened to what Michael had to say, but it was a
waste of time—he clearly had no idea what we wanted. Michael, however, isn't one to
give up. He launched into an elaborate ritual of sign language and pantomime, with some
rudimentary Spanish thrown in for good measure, until his message seemed to percolate
through.
“Ah,” the man said, thumping his forehead with the back of his hand. “ Sí ,” he said. “We
have.”
“Great,” Michael smiled triumphantly in my general direction, waiting for the man to
produce the tile.
But the fellow just stared back. He was clearly an old hand at this game.
“ ¿Mañana? ” he hazarded.
“How about today?” Michael suggested.
Our friend removed his hat and scratched his head.
“Tito!” he yelled to his colleague.