MAZATLAN He was a beautiful little guy in his white shirt and brown slacks. They were old and probably hand me downs but he showed more pride in his appearance than the other the little boys vending and hawking their wares to the tourists. I watched him flash his disarming smile as he worked the tables seated on hotel terrace bar. Where the other boy-vendors were unkept and had the air of begging, this kid had clearly wise to a good presentation. Still, I think I would have unbuttoned the top button even if it was a white shirt. It was happy hour and he was having limited success with the guests as they were mostly high school kids out for the summer and on what they called a graduation trip. One occasionally bought a rose for a girlfriend but in general were not big spenders on roses. I waited expectantly as he worked his way down the tables toward me. He had the coal black hair of the Mestizo Mexican and the copper color of his ancestors. When he smiled his teeth sparkled white and I noticed he was careful about his grooming, combing his thick hair in a swirl across his forehead. He took pride in his appearance, even to his white shirt that let the picture on his T-shirt show through. His back was to me as he asked the next table of folks if they would like to buy some roses in the soft timid voice of a ten-year-old. He gave no indication of speaking English but obviously knew some as he responded correctly to most questions asked him. "How much?" the tourist asked, indicating one of the roses in the bundle. "Five thousand," he replied in Spanish, and I could imagine him shyly, showing a row of white teeth through his charming smile. They told him, "No thanks." and he turned to ask me. I was studying him intently and perhaps intimidated him with the seriousness of my stare. He started to ask then stopped in the middle of his sentence. I held his eyes and could see him summons up the courage to ask. Unfortunately, I have harsh features, and appear almost mad when I am intent about something. Fortunately, when I smile, the sterness disappears and I have a winning set of dimples that overshadows the harshness. "Buenos tardes, hovensito." I told him and let my eyes stray briefly to take in his slender frame. His blue pants were hardly wrinkle free but looked clean. I had an urge to reach an unbutton the top button of his shirt that I suppressed along with my urge to put my arm around his shoulders. I found myself uneasy with his attractiveness and cautioned myself against being to forward, at least just yet. When I returned to look at his face he had his innocent smile accented with sparkling black eyes. I saw him relax somewhat as I continued smiling. "Sientate," I tell him in a voice with just enough authority he considers it necessary but with modulated softness to give it an inviting quality. He complied and sat down at the table, holding the bundle of roses in his lap. "Cueras Coka," I ask him and he replies "Si, senior," hardly above a whisper. Catching the eye of my waiter I order another Tequila Sunrise and a coke for my little guest who still shows some apprehension. It's an understandable reaction and I have the advantage of knowing what to expect. He, on the other hand, does not know what to expect from this "gringo" who is twice his height and considerably more friendly than the average tourist. The band has quit playing and the only sound is the waves rolling in at high tide to wash the shore hardly fifteen feet away. The only lights are the candles of the tables. We are cooled by the slight breeze from the ocean and I am caught up in the enchantment. I have been silent for several seconds and he fidgets somewhat, time for some conversation. "Cual es tu nombre, nino?" Having names will certainly make out talking easier. "Rodrigues, senior" "Nombre Hermoso," and I started the small talk that would relax us and begin our getting acquainted. The drinks showed up and we sipped them as we talked. As usual in such situations he was to shy to ask questions but willing to answer and we explored his job, his school, and his family. A second round of drinks and we were both more relaxed. His smile came spontaneously now and I could tell he genuinely enjoyed talking with me. He still attended school which I thought a plus. Most in his line of work had quit. Maybe this accounted for his sense of polish even at ten. After morning school he worked the restaurants with his bundle of roses before catching the bus to go home. He was a middle child of several. They lived in "El Centro" which was the poorer part of Mazatlan. His mother did not work. His father was seldom at home. The family income pretty much came from the kids. It was ten o'clock and I had a fishing trip at six thirty. We had talked for an hour. I knew I had a new friend and asked him if he would like pizza tomorrow. He gave me a broad smile and a "Si" so I told him to meet me at six the next evening and we would go across the street to La Fabula for some pizza. His hand was swallowed in mine as we shook and I watched him walk down the steps to the beach, disappearing onto the darkness. His after image lingered for a long time and was still fresh as I rode the elevator to my room, still fresh as I pulled off my shorts and still fresh in the vivid dreams where we ran naked on the beach. Flota Bi-Bi did an excellent job of finding "bez bellas" and I had two of the sails, a marlin, and three tuna when the day was over. It had been a wonderful day. I lay on the seat of the Tomcat and listened to the twin diesels deep rumble. Their throaty lullaby soon had me in the dreamy state of pre-sleep and again the naked water nymph delighted me at the edge of the waves. Back in the condo I showered and shaved. It was four o'clock and time for a quick nap before meeting Rodrigues. I was very much asleep when the five o'clock wake up rang. After assuring the operator I was very much awake I rolled over on my back and spread eagled on the bed. The ceiling fan rotated hypnotically as I absently stroked myself. The anticipation of seeing Rodrigues had affected the bush monster between my legs. It was stiff and firm. I stroked it like a pet, hoping to quiet it's insistence. -END-