Island Love

On Friday afternoon, my boyfriend and I had arranged to go swimming after school in the lagoon.  I met my boyfriend last March, and I hate to brag, but he followed me around until I gave in to his shy, but subtle ways.   Garielle is the stereotypically tropical, dark and handsome man of which dreams are made.  He is not – however – tall. He holds hope that his 8^th birthday will arrive bearing inches, but his Mayan heritage is working against him.  Garielle is the sweetest boy.  He is extremely quiet and even when he does speak, which become more each day, he struggles with articulation.  This is not uncommon as Creole barely requires their mouths to open. 

Garielle is the youngest child by quite a bit.  His 18 year sister works in a tourist shop and his 15 year old brother dropped out of school to drive a boat.  His parent own a bar on back street, and they live about it. His mother is dying of throat cancer. I was telling him about the HUGE land crab that greeted me in my house the other day and that I screamed extremely loud because I thought it was a rat. He laughed and said, “Rats won’t hurt you either miss. They are many in our house.”  If I could sweep him away I would, but his life is his.  He is a little boy with a family.