Written By Brad Harness
The sun beat down pretty good on me as I kicked myself for forgetting the sunscreen and hat. At least I remembered to bring my sunglasses!
I led Henri and Francine down streets and around corners, pointing out this and that. She liked all the flowers on peoples balconies. Henri seemed less pleased, commenting on the scruffiness of some of the homes and shops.
And then we were back on the main streets, lined with brightly painted storefronts and plenty of tourists. Many were in small groups of about 15, with a hired tour guide showing them the sights.
Francine stopped to look at some jewellery in a window. Henri came up close to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. At first it seemed a loving gesture, until he managed to get her moving again, away from the expensive shops and towards the cigar making business across the street. I noticed he seemed in a bit of a rush. I supposed Henri liked his fine cigars and was hankering for one. Francine was frowning as I joined the pair at the doorway.
“Cigars?” she said. “Really?”
“Cigars are one of Puerto Rico’s main exports. They’re part of the draw for American tourists.”
“Americans, eh? Well. we are not Americans, and I don’t even smoke! I want to see something more interesting…Any suggestions?”
Henri was already inside the shop, chatting with two men behind the counter. They were nodding in agreement with what he was saying. Presently one of them slipped behind a curtain and into a back room.
I joined Henri at the counter, leaving Francine to sit on the leather armchairs arranged as a smoking room in the front of the store.
“Henri, care for the tour of this place?” I asked.
He grimaced and looked at me seemingly not understanding what I had just said. “The tour…?” I repeated, pointing to the large adjoining room filled with tourists and some men from the business who had begun to explain the cigar industry here on the island.
Then the man who had gone into the back returned handed Henri a fine wooden cigar box, painted in gold lettering. I noticed that no money changed hands, but assumed Henri had already paid with a credit card. He picked up the box, turned to me and said, “Let’s get out of here.”
He was halfway to the door already, grabbing Francine’s arm.
Next Week: Part 6
