It was 175 degrees(F) with not a lick of breeze on The Porch. The ceiling fan had morphed into a furnace days before. It was the kind of stifling Southern heat that you can only know once you’ve experienced it.
“Y’all, I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” Grace said, fanning herself with a First Presbyterian pew fan.
“The Lord must be giving us a taste of Hell since you stole that church fan,” Hank chuckled. “I really wish you hadn’t’a done that.”
“Oh, hush,” she said, and almost threw her prized possession at him.
“What we need is a vacation to somewhere cool,” Beau said. “A higher elevation to cool this heat sensation.” Beau was thinking a little lake up in Carolina.
“A higher elevation, to cool the heat sensation,” Grace crooned, “Yass.”
“Well, I reckon I could introduce y’all to Oaxaca,” Hank offered.
“You mean, Mexico?” Grace questioned. “You’ve got to be kidding! That’s closer to the equator than we are now.”
“Yeah but, Oaxaca City sits over 5,000 feet above sea level,” Hank said beaming, like he’d just made a quantum physics calculation. “It sits up in the Sierra Madre mountains, so it’ll be cooler than this for sure.”
Beau had stopped swinging in his hammock, and was sitting up straight now. “Cotton, I thought you said your apartment was on the coast?”
“Si, mi apartamento está en Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca. Pero, mi compañero posee una propiedad en la ciudad de Oaxaca.”
“What did he just say, Beau?”
“He said hike your skirt up, we’re headed down to Old Mexico to cool off.”
“Hell yeah, dawg. I’ll call Senor Israel now,” Hank said, as he whipped out his cellular device and walked off the porch.
Beau and Grace looked at each other confused, but didn’t say anything about the curious Mexican name. Hank turned to them and gave a thumbs up right about the time he made it out to Ole Dually Girl, and they disappeared inside to pack a bag.
An hour later the boys were back out on The Porch waiting on Grace, when she burst out the screen door in a panic.
“Y’ALL.”
“What is it, Grace?” Beau offered, seeing she was frantic.
“I can’t find my passport, I’ve looked everywhere!”
“Well,” Hank said, “Where’d you have it last?”
Grace disappeared back into the house without a response. And was back before the screen door’d even shut the second time with her passport in her hand.
“I’d put it in my travel bag so that I wouldn’t forget it,” she explained.
“Viva Oaxaca,” Beau said, “Vamos!”
They piled into Beau’s rental, a Saab he’d picked up when he landed in ATL. He’d be able to drop it at the Hertz at JAX — saving him the rental cost, and them the airport parking fee for the duration of the trip.
Both Hank and Beau were traveling light. Hank had what he called his “fifteen minute bag”. And Beau was used to traveling with nothing more than a duffle and a briefcase. But Grace was dragging the largest pink suitcase you’ve ever seen, along with her travel bag, her purse, and a pillow. And she’d changed clothes too. She was now wearing a floral sundress and a large pink sombrero.
Beau elbowed Hank, pointed at Grace and said, “We should really give her a hand.”
Hank said, “yeah, you’re right.” But just as they were about to take a step in her direction the shortest Mexican you’ve ever seen leaped to her rescue. “Damn, check that shit out dawg. That suitcase is bigger than he is. That’s got to be the smallest Mexican I’ve ever witnessed.”
“That’d make’em a Honduran,” Beau quipped.
When they reached the American Airlines check-in, Grace thanked him, and tried to tip him. But he’d backed away with his hands up like she’d pulled a gun on him.
“Here, please take this,” Grace offered it again. She kept repeating, “Gracias, dinero?” over and over again.
The little guy said, “No, es un placer ayudar a tan bella doncella.”
“Grace, you’re embarrassing him,” Hank joked. “I think he’s in love with you.”
“Well I’m sorry. He’ll just have to take this dinero instead,” she said as she tried to hide her blushing.
“Muchas gracias, mi amigo,” Beau said, taking control of the situation. “We’ll take it from here.”
The little guy made a slight frown, then went on about his way. Grace exhaled, relieved he was gone. Neither of the three had any idea that’d been an omen, that the little fella wouldn’t be the last of Grace’s suitors on the trip.
It was 6pm local time, and 72 degrees(F) when they stepped off of the plane in Oaxaca City. Israel had sent his youngest son, Jose, to pick them up from the airport. Hank greeted Jose with a Mexican dap, then the two embraced each other. They were all smiles while hugging and clapping each other on the back. Hank then turned to introduce his comrades.
