Tela Beach: The Long, Quiet Vacation

The main room had a narrow closet, a small air conditioner, an old fashioned radio, and furniture made of rosewood, a dark wood. The main room's window had Venetian blinds and heavy drapes. When the blinds were open and the drapes drawn, the sun could light up half the room. But when the blinds were closed and the drapes were drawn all the way or even half way, the room was a private seclusion.

Two adjacent rooms made a standalone unit called a hut. The huts were connected by paths, and all around were tall palm trees, enough so that good shade was inevitable.

The men could change now, so nearly all of them took off their slacks and put on shorts. Some took showers. But when they left the room, they had to have short-sleeved collared shirts on. Their feet were theirs, though, and so they could wear tennis shoes or sandals or anything as long as it was in good condition.

Some of them showed up at the resort's restaurant, the only place for food since they were forbidden to leave the resort, but they were not hungry yet. They said hi to Sergeant Gott, who was trying to cool himself off with cold drinks. They milled around, hoping more men would show up, and they ordered wine coolers and beers. The Americans took the bar and held it, but they had yet to occupy the beach.

The uncombed beach was wild. Coconut trees stood in the sand, their debris scattered about as though a storm had recently hit. The sand was the same shade as oatmeal, and the water, as though from a dream, was the color of blue shampoo. Off in the distance were some islands, and the water to them was shallow.

Johnson was the first American to make it to the beach. The beach was already inhabited by some black boys and two young Honduran women, despite the sand fleas. The boys were selling coconut bread, and Johnson bought some and tasted of its richness. Soon others came from the the bar and bought the boys out, and afterward, the boys danced on the beach and went home.

“Johnson’s popular,” said one joe.

“We’ll all be as soon as we get over there.”

“Where are they going?”

“Hurry, someone take a picture of Johnson before they leave. He’s grinning ear to ear, the fool.”

“Oh I see.”

“Go ask’em how much true stardom costs.”

The people met. Somebody got bit by a sand flea. The beach was soon empty.