Epilogue


On his hillside farm, Juan was happy. His hogs were happy, eagerly slurping the slop he was feeding them, unaware that their days were numbered. Looking down at the Palm Estates, he noticed the golf course was beginning to emerge from the flood waters, a mass of mud over what was once bright green grass. The huge houses remained islands in a murky lake.

Juan had no pity for the displaced homeowners. The Palm Estates never should have been built. The rich delta flatland was best used for farms, not for palace playgrounds for the wealthy.

***

There were two new faces in the back of the garbage truck as it jerked and stopped on Main Street. Ivan and Gomez were not smiling as they hauled up the smelly bins and sorted the refuse.

Further up the street, sweating heavily in blackened orange jumpsuits, the man who was once mayor and his nephew, who had once been a town cop, listlessly shoveled hot asphalt into potholes. The new mayor wasn’t waiting until the next election for city workers to start improving things.

***

The crowd standing on the entry stairs to the church burst into applause as the doors swung open and the newlywed couple emerged into the sunshine. Potpourri and rose petals showered down on Eddie’s bare head as he ushered Gina into the waiting limousine. As he crouched to enter, she placed a brand new cowboy hat atop his gray curls and the limo sped off.

Another round of applause erupted as a second couple came out of the church. Hand in hand, Frank and Fernanda dodged the rain of confetti and ducked into a second limo.

Cheers drifted through the air as the town’s newest couples drove away.

***

With less fanfare but equally joyous, another resident was leaving town.

Both hands holding on to her wide brimmed hat, wind caressing her happy face, the mayor’s wife, Lulu, stretched languorously across the red leather back seat of the Caddy. She’d closed out the joint bank accounts, sold the house, and now, with Jasmine curled up beside her, she was leaving for the big city.

“No hurry, Pepe,” she purred to the driver with whom she’d been having an affair for years.

In a few weeks, Lulu would be dumbfounded when her beloved white poodle birthed a litter of very strange looking pups.

***

Planted on their bench, beer bottles in hand, a Dodgers game on the radio, the three kings of Main Street surveyed their kingdom, waved and nodded at passersby. Life had returned to normal in Puerto Cielo.

At least for now.

***

In City Park, filled with townspeople relaxing on a quiet, warm afternoon, music floated out from the gazebo. A girl in a wheelchair sang as her friend played guitar.

“Guantanamera
Guajira Guantanamera
Guantanamrera
Guajira Guantanamera

Yo soy un hombre sincero
De donde crecen las palmas
Yo soy un hombre sincero
De donde crece la palma
Y antes de morir yo quiero
Echar mis versos del alma
Y antes de morir yo quiero
Echar mis versos del alma

Guantanamera
Guajira Guantanamera
Guantanamrera
Guajira Guantanamera”

***


THE END