52stories

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The sun rose slowly, bringing life to the area around the pool. It was still black and white - the colors hadn’t yet emerged. The pool stood empty, it was too cold. This was South America in the winter time. No one swam down here. If he was at home, in Michigan or Indiana, places he grew up, he’d be in the pool right now. He stepped back from the hotel window, finished getting dressed, and then went downstairs to look for some breakfast.

He was visiting Argentina, part of the unwritten job requirements. He hadn’t been there before, and didn’t relish the thought of visiting a place where he didn’t even know the language. Over the last few days, he learned enough Spanish to feed himself. For breakfast, huevos. And yerba mate, the special tea that they drank down here, passed from friend to friend in a shared gourd.

After a few minutes, he got the things he wanted for breakfast, and walked out to sit by the pool. No one else was around. It was quiet. Early. The birds were only now starting to emerge from their evening slumber. Above, the sky started to show blue. But the concrete around him was still in black and white.

He sat on a dusty pool chair, nibbling at his breakfast. drank The hot tea felt good in the cool morning air. This was their winter. For him it was a spring day. Before long he’d have to go to work, but for now he could relax, sit by the pool. The pool that he had all to himself.

As he ate, his eyes investigated his surroundings. The pool was concrete, empty, dry, cracked. A vine had started to grow from the deepest recesses, extending onto the concrete patio. The wall on the south side of the pool wasn’t too tall, 8 or 10 feet maybe. Even in winter, the area was well stocked with chairs and tables, ready at a moments notice to return to a haven from the heat.

The sun started its daily warm-up of the area, chasing away the shadows, and trying to bring life and color back from its evening rest. Birds started to land nearby, looking for handouts from his breakfast. He finished most of his food, throwing the last crumbs to the hungry fliers, and finished the last of his mate.

People started walking by on the street outside the hotel. He was near downtown, but it was a small city so the crowds were sparce. A tall cathedral rose above the walls of the pool, the spires reaching far into the sky. As the morning progressed, people from around the local areas would go there for prayer, and then quickly set up their booths in the church yard in order to sell their most valuable trinkets to all the tourists.

He supposed he was a tourist to them. He hadn’t bought anything yet, but had walked over to watch the people several times over the last few days. Very friendly people. Very good looking.

With only minutes left before he would have to start his work day, he sat back in the pool chair and thought of his family at home. The wife that no longer seemed to miss him. The children who, although he was sure they loved him, had lives of their own now, and didn’t have much time for “dear old dad”.

Clouds gathered at the horizon. The color faded back to black and white. The gentle rain began to fall in its attempt to refill the pool.

His tears began to fall.