The Passions of Santos

Chapter 2

Beads of sweat dripped off Santos' body as he hastily paddled away from Ricardo and his men, who were gaining speed.

"I see the woman in your boat, Santos!" Ricardo screamed. "You cannot escape me now!"

As Santos rowed, he looked at the woman in his boat: Blanca, the love of his life, who was clutching their beloved pet leopard, Benedito. Santos then looked behind him, and saw the anger in Ricardo's eyes. It was clear Ricardo wanted Santos dead. And Ricardo always got what he wanted.

Santos paddled with all the strength he could muster as Blanca watched, unable to help. She tried to row when Ricardo first approached, but after just a few minutes, she was exhausted. Blanca was not built for such grueling exercise-- or any form of exercise, really. But Santos loved Blanca all the more for her delicate demeanor, even in these dire circumstances; he didn't need her physical strength because her emotional muscle was so supportive. And so, as Santos rowed, Blanca watched and drank the last sips of champagne left in their anniversary bottle.

Santos pushed and pulled through the fierce waters, as the waves grew larger around them. When he noticed Ricardo's men were not slowing down, he decided to try a new tactic: a technique he learned back in military school. If he thought about all the paddling he'd have to do to survive, he would give up immediately. But if he thought about just one paddle at a time, he could continue on. And so, Santos counted, one by one.

"One croqueta, two croqueta, three croqueta," Santos said, matching his words to each stroke.

As Santos chanted, Blanca watched him, equally in awe of his focus and also worried he was slowly losing his mind.

But at exactly "1,098 croquetas," when Santos was drenched in his own sweat, he allowed himself to stop counting and look behind him. And sure enough, Ricardo and his men were gone! Santos' counting technique worked perfectly. He kissed Blanca and clutched Benedito tightly. They were going to live!

The celebration was brief, however, as Santos quickly realized that amidst his croqueta-counting, he had completely lost his sense of direction. (Also, he had developed a deep, unfortunate craving for a croqueta.) Santos looked to the left, and then to the right, but he could only see miles and miles of water. There was no land in sight.

Santos' stomach twisted into knots as he realized... they were lost sea.

That night, as Blanca and Benedito snored peacefully under the stars, Santos lay awake, pulsing with anxiety. They had no compass, no shelter, and only four emergency canisters of water inside his boat. In short, they were doomed. He knew he had to explain the circumstances to Blanca. It was clear by her snoring that she did not realize they were surely going to die. He would wait to tell her until morning. Sentences like that always sounded better in the morning.

A few hours later, when the golden sun crept above the horizon, Santos awoke to the smell of fresh sea urchin wafting in the air. Blanca may not have been a great athlete, but she knew her way around a kitchen--even a boat-kitchen. Like Santos, Blanca understood that presentation was everything, and so when she served Santos his sea urchin breakfast on a bed of salty seaweed, she topped it off with a small flower petal she found floating on the water. Santos could not believe it. It was as if Blanca knew he had something important to tell her and was purposefully trying to distract him with his favorite dish!

"How could I ever thank you, Blanca? This looks divine," Santos said.

"Oh, El Presidente, it's the least I could do. Not only did you save us from those evil men, but now you're bringing us to a secret land where we will be safe!"