“I sure am thirsty,” Vernon said. “Let’s get a beer.”
“Good idea,” I told him.
By chance, Vernon and I were catching the same water taxi from Belize City. We had nearly an hour before the boat departed so we popped into a little bar around the corner from the taxi terminal.
As we left the bar I said, “Vernon, you’ve had five beers in the last half hour. Will they make you seasick?”
“I needed them, Mr. Dennis. I’m scared of boats but don’t get seasick unless I think about it. Now, you made me think of it so I’ll probably get sick.”
When we loaded up for the crowded boat to Ambergris Caye I had a seat across the aisle from Vernon.
“Hey, move over.”
A big, mean-looking drunk was talking to Vernon, trying to wedge onto the seat next to him. Several people scrunched up to make room and the drunk got his seat. He immediately fell asleep.
Just before we reached Caye Caulker I asked, “Vernon, are you alright?”
Vernon looked miserable. He sat with his head propped up with his hands but when I called he raised a sickly-looking green face to me.
“I think I’m going to be. . .”
“Uurrrrp!”
He turned his head and threw up all over the big drunk sitting next to him. The drunk slept peacefully.
“Caye Caulker!” the boat captain called out as we pulled up to the dock. “Everyone out for Caye Caulker.”
As the drunk stirred, Vernon reached into his backpack and pulled out a towel. When the man opened his eyes and looked down at his clothes, Vernon handed him the towel.
“You can use this, sir,” he said. “Are you feeling better now?”
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