What of Baldo, lanky, mute, machete in hand for coconut splits to please and serve? What can possibly come to him?
With a stubby hand on Baldo’s shoulder, Milo whispers, “El Capitán de las Tortugas!”
Antonio steps in. “Capitán? What turtles need a captain?”
“¡Ay, sí!¡Las chicas!” With the spurious grin and flourish of a chubby man, Milo turns to the six plastic tubs lining the low wall by the steps leading down to the beach, up to the pool deck. A parasol overhead shades the nursery.
Antonio squints to find las chicas hatchling baby sea turtles, twenty to a tub. Back in bright light, he asks what is expected of Baldo.
Milo explains, “All of Mexico is changing.” The Federal Government has decreed, and the Navy will enforce: anyone taking or tampering with turtle eggs will face fines and imprisonment. The Navy secured eggs for safe incubation. These babies are part of the seasonal hatch, disbursed to coastline hotels for safekeeping. In ninety days these small turtles will grow enough to survive at ninety percent instead of two percent. Time has come to restore: no more turtle steaks or turtle soup, turtle oil or turtle shells.
No mas.
Look: guests pay four dollars—dollars!—for a drink by the pool. Six dollars for fancy. Happy to pay. With tips! ¿Puedes ver?
Hey, who do Meesta Milo tink he speak? Who stimulates more more drinks, more happiness to Hotel Oaxtapec? Milo is a bump on the proverbial log. Does Antonio see?
Toucan Whisper, Toucan Sing, in hardcover, paperback, ebook & audible: https://www.amazon.com/Toucan-Whisper-Sing…/dp/B0CSFB4KK9