Conspicuous Consumption - The Coconut Chronicles: Two Guys, One Caribbean Dream House - page 29

Eyeing the remains of her sandwich the way a dog regards a juicy bone, the woman
laughed philosophically, nodding her head.
“Is good,” she offered, not unkindly. “She come.”
We glanced at one another.
“Have you talked to her?” I asked.
“Oh yes,” the woman said. “One hours ago she call. She say one hour and one half she
come.”
“So she'll be here at three-thirty?”
The woman looked at me with obvious merriment.
“ Quizá ,” she said. Maybe.
We looked around the wretched hut. There was no place to sit. Additionally, our host-
ess' sandwich had attracted an extended family of large green flies that now dive-bombed
our ears with unbridled delight.
“Let's go for a walk,” Michael suggested.
“We'll come back in a while,” I told the woman, who nodded absently as we fled into
the warm, bright afternoon.
We dawdled purposefully on the Malecón, the walkway that lies between the modest
strip of businesses in Esperanza and the sea.
The Malecón in Esperanza