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Mexico |By Joyce Carles

Walking along the ruins of Tulum, I felt the sun like a blanket wrapped around me. A blanket I could not discard. Wanting to crawl into one of the gray, dilapidated Mayan structures and curl up in a shaded corner, maybe just melt into the sand.

I heard the tour guide speaking about the sea and how the people could see the boats, but their city was disguised by the embankment lined with palm trees. She said once we got there we could go down to the beach and take a dip. The beach looked to be a million miles away. All this was running through my aching head.

Hearing a sudden shout from Ursula, “We’re going back.” Ursula shoved a water bottle into my hands. “Drink,” her anxious voice demanded.

I took the bottle and poured it over my head. It evaporated immediately, but I enjoyed a second of pure joy. My legs were getting wobbly as Ursula pulled me along. She stopped under a lone palm only to pull my bottled water out of my purse and when I got it I did the same thing. I was dry in minutes and as we walked there was no more shade.

Ursula found a ladies’ room. It was like an oven inside. I felt like a chicken being roasted. Then I saw the sinks. I began running cold water, slapping it all over my head and arms. Finally, Ursula took a wet paper towel and sat it on the back of my neck. Relief. We made our way back to the bus. Inside, I was bathing in the air conditioning that poured over me stumbling to a seat. I closed my eyes. When they opened Ursula was handing me a cold bottle of water. This time I drank.

Ursula is my best friend. We bonded in Girl Scouts. It was the time my parents were getting a divorce and her dad had just left. She reminded me of Cleopatra, and I looked like Joan of Ark before they burned her.

I must have slept during the long bus ride to the resort. My sister stood at the main entrance the front reminded me of Chi-Chi’s without the sign.

She grabbed me screaming, “You look terrible! Didn’t you find the extra water I packed in that stupid macramé bag you carry?” I shook my head as she dragged me to our room. “I’m fine, Ursula took care of me.”

She started feeling my forehead and taking my pulse. My sister, the nurse, opened the door and after fighting with me to take a sip of water, sat on the bed.

    “What made you think of Ursula?” she asked.

    “I think I may have passed out if not for her.”

    “But Ursula died two years ago,” she said. “Maybe it’s too much sun. You need to take a nap.”

    “She’s my best friend.”


Copyright, Joyce Carles, March 21, 2022. 
Unauthorized use or copying is strictly prohibited without the authors written permission.

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