STORIES OF MY CHILDHOOD… EL BARQUILLERO
On a balmy summer Caribbean afternoon, one of those sunny afternoons that begged for nothing to do… after all, school was out until “next” year, the morning obligations … like going to the swimming pool to practice our competition strokes, or biking on an ice cream hunting “adventure” with our friends were over and done with, and lunch out of the way… It’s early in the afternoon and after downing a midday meal which -by today’s standards- would have been considered “somewhat” unhealthy, there I was sitting lazily on the cool living room floor, by the front window with a book in hand, waiting for an expected visitor to pass by. After all, what else is there to do for an eight-year-old in a non-electronic era? - “BARQUILLAS... BARQUILLEROOO!! …” A shout that was followed by a sharp whistle, coming from someone we all loved to see, and who came by during the summertime when he knew we were all out of school, and lying in wait for his anticipated, delightful offerings. ...