Things went smoothly as I sloshed through the airport. In fact, as I huffed my way to my gate, a gentleman on an electric cart stopped to give me a ride. I expressed my gratitude.

"Think nothing of it," he said, "People like you and me have got to look out for each other." He was referring to his true, and my apparent, state of obesity: I was wearing a special suit I had created out of a kiddie swimming pool, a hula hoop, super glue, duct tape, a hair dryer, ten gallons of water, and an ensemble from a big-and-tall clothing store. Within it was a secret compartment, concealing Bea's fragile body. I took this precaution in the event there were regulations against bringing plants across borders. In retrospect, I suppose I could have called someone, but I was not exactly thinking clearly. At any rate, I agreed and thanked him again as I got off.

Seating aboard the plane proved to be rather uncomfortable. My hula hoop would catch the arm rests, and as I sat, would pull up the back of my underwear, giving me a terrific wedgie. My suit obviously could have stood some extra engineering, but it managed to serve its purpose.

Acapulco was beautiful. It was quite warm and humid as I stepped out of the airport, but it felt good. It seemed as if for the first time, hot and humid was what it was supposed to be, and there was nary a corn field to be seen.

I caught a bus to the ocean front, and wandered along a catwalk. To my right was the beach, my left rows of hotels and resorts. One in particular caught my eye. It was an old building, in a state of mild disrepair, huddled between two modern monstrosities. It seemed like my kind of place.

"Welcome sir! My name is Damu, how may I help you?" The man behind the counter was very pleased by my presence in his lobby.

"I'd like a room, please."

"Very good. You are alone?"

"Yes."

"How long will you be staying?"

"I'm not sure."

"Sign here please."

"Where can I buy some new clothes?" I asked while signing my name. I had packed nothing and brought nothing with me. If my suitcase had been searched by customs for one reason or another, I figured my regular-sized clothes would be cause for some suspicion among the inspectors. Instead, I brought only a briefcase, attempting to appear as if I were in the city for business purposes.

"There is a little store up the road. I- -I am not sure that they will have anything in your size, but they will know where to get it." He seemed a little embarrassed to mention my weight.

"I'm sure it won't be a problem."

He gave me a key and I went up to my room. It had a small patio, from which I took in the tropical spectacle, mesmerized. Then I remembered Bea. I dug her out of my false belly and put her upon the table. She look a little wilted. I gave her some water.

"Welcome to Acapulco, honey. What do you think of the view? Yes, it is beautiful."

We savored the fresh ocean breeze. Romance was in the air.

"I need a pair of shorts, 35 inch waist." I told the woman behind the counter. She looked at me oddly for a moment. She then led me to a stack of clothing in one corner of the store.

"These are our shorts here. They are not measured in inches. These are about the same size here. Perhaps your friend should come in and try them on before you buy?"

"Oh they're for me." I smiled in response to her confused look. "Don't worry, they'll fit." I grabbed an appropriate sized shirt and went into the fitting room. A few minutes later I emerged, a new man.

The woman behind the counter let out a little cry and whispered something under her breath.

"I have no use for these anymore, could I leave them with you?" I placed my hula hoop, shirt and pants on the counter. She stood a ways back, apparently trying to get a grasp on the situation. "How much is this? You take travelers checks, right?"

"Yes, right." She rang my things up and punched some numbers into a calculator. "Thirty five American."

"There you go. Have a nice day."

"Welcome sir! May I- -Mister Leets?" Damu turned very pale.

"Hello."

He came out from behind his counter to examine me. He appeared to be grasping for the proper words to say. "You have lost weight! How very good for you."

"Mind over matter," I said, and made my way to my room.

I stayed in my room just long enough to get Bea. I figured some time on the beach and then dinner would be a nice way to start off our time in paradise. When I returned downstairs, the manager seemed to have recovered.

"What's a good restaurant around here?" I asked him.

"Oh, The Palm is very good, very good. It is three blocks that way and two blocks that way." He said, pointing at the walls. He then caught sight of Bea. "What is that you are carrying?"

"My wife, Beautrice."

"You are married to a potted plant?"

"Well, she used to be a woman."

"That sounds like good story."

"I'll tell you sometime. Anyway, we're going to the beach. See you later."

"Take care mister Leets."

When Bea and I returned from out outing, Damu was still behind his counter. I smiled a hello and wandered back up to my room. It was still early enough that I didn't feel like I should go to bed. I turned on the television. After about twenty minutes there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find Damu, smiling his toothy grin.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked.

"No sir. I have come here not in business, but as friend. I may come in?"

I hadn't thought of Damu as a friend. I was curious to see what he had to say. I nodded, he entered.

"The restaurant was as good as I said, yes?"

"We enjoyed it immensely."

"Your wife, she liked the food too?" He raised an eyebrow.

"She had water."

"Ahh, very good. Water." He nodded.

"How are you liking Acapulco?" he asked.

"Beautiful. Everything I could have hoped for."

"And you?" He stood in front of Bea. "You are enjoying it as well?"

Bea remained silent. Damu looked at me with curiosity.

"She can't speak." I said.

"Ah yes. I should have guessed. How long has she been a plant?"

"Since the day before yesterday."

"She just turned into a plant?"

"As far as I can tell, yes."

"Hmmm." He said, looking at Bea and rubbing his chin.

"I might help you," he announced. "My brother is religious man. He knows much different magic. He might turn her back into woman."

I was a bit skeptical. This had all of the markings of a scam-in-progress. "How much will it cost me?"

"Oh nothing sir. As I say, I am here as a friend."

The next morning Damu left his son in his place at the front desk and took me to see his brother. It was about an hour drive that led us deep into the jungle, on roads that nothing other than Damu's jeep would have been able to traverse. As we ventured further and further from civilization, I began to wonder if I hadn't made a mistake. I had visions of Bea and myself sitting in a large pot over a fire, slowly simmering to culinary perfection.

Damu stopped the jeep and got out. He walked to the beginning of a footpath. "This way mister Leets. Not far now."

Fifteen minutes later, we stood in front of a small hut. Blue smoke drifted lazily from a hole in its roof.

"You wait here, I go talk to him."

I stood by the shack, holding Bea close to me, looking about my surroundings. The trail we followed seemed to go on, winding further into the mountains. The jungle was fairly thick, except for the clearing in which the hut was built. Beyond the low, dense, jungle, towering trees marked a similar clearing in the blue sky above. I smiled and looked at Bea. She smiled back.

Damu poked his head out of the hut. "Mister Leets, come now."

I cautiously entered. It was lit only by small smoldering fire in the center, which appeared to be the source of the thick smoke. The air was dense with spice.

Damu's brother, Baba, was dressed in a white gown that might have passed for a wedding dress in America. He was wearing a necklace composed of several white objects. They could have been teeth, or bones, or maybe even shells of some sort. He said something in his native dialect, to which Damu responded, and then said to me, "He would like see your wife." I looked at Bea and then Damu, who nodded encouragingly. I passed her to Baba.

He sprinkled a little powder over her, pressed one of her leaves between two fingers, and closed his eyes. He sat that way for several minutes, then set Bea on a small table next to him.

He said something to Damu.

"This good news, good news," said Damu. "He say he can change your wife back."

"Really." I said, still a bit skeptical.

"He need your help. You drink this. It put you into trance that help magic."

He handed me an "I (heart) New York" coffee cup that contained a dark brown liquid. I sniffed it. It smelled like epoxy. I looked at him, and he nodded encouragingly to me again. I swallowed it down, shuddering at the road-kill aftertaste.

The world rapidly became a very strange place. It seemed as if I had gained the benefit of "zoom" vision; objects and faces would distort, appearing very close at times, then moving back to their normal distances. This became quite disorienting when, say, Damu's face would be very close to me, but his body would stay the several feet away.

The magician in the wedding gown began reciting mysterious words and phrases, all the while orbiting his hands around Bea. He blew some powder off of his hand towards her, then me, then Damu, who had his eyes closed. I looked at Bea. At this point, she seemed unchanged, except for what my eyes caused her to do.

Baba blew something into the fire, a flame leapt up several feet. I gave it a round of applause.

Damu leaned in and whispered, "Look, your wife, she changes."

I looked at Bea. At first it appeared as if nothing were happening. Then, slowly, she began to metamorphose. Her leaves changed position and shape, turning into a hand. Bea was now a potted arm. Her fingers curled down and she made a fist, and then opened full palm again. "A palm tree" I thought to myself, entranced.

She began to grow again, this time straight up. Her elbow appeared, then her shoulder. I could see her neck appear, her head was down, near to her body. Damu began to chant with his brother; they increased in passion and intensity. I stared at Bea, wide eyed.

At this point everything below her bellybutton was still in the pot. I strained to see how in the world she managed to fit in there, but my eyes wouldn't focus.

She continued to grow, her head still down. With her head tilted forward, her hair was long enough to reach past her hips. It had been shoulder length before.

Now she was planted up to her knees, and still growing. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever witnessed, far more so than any childbirth I had seen. Images of the "Birth of Venus" sprang to mind. Tears pooled in my eyes.

At last she was completely free of the pot, except for the toes on her left foot. She stood there in that strange position for several moments before slumping down on to the floor, curling up. Damu and his brother broke the chant. The magician took out a blanket, covered Bea, and said something.

"Baba say she must sleep now. We go outside."

Damu went past me out of the hut. I looked at Bea momentarily. I could see her body rise and fall with each breath under the blanket.

I found Damu outside, whizzing in the bushes.

"That went very well," he said over his shoulder. "My brother is very good at what he does."

"Yup." I said.

I looked up. The sky was no longer blue, but rather a striking purple color.

"Look at that," I said to Damu, pointing up. He didn't look.

"It is the potion. It will soon wear off."

I was lying on my back, full of awe, watching animals float across the sky, when Baba emerged from the tent. He said something to Damu.

"Baba says she is awake."

I arose and shivered in anticipation. I was anxious to hear what Bea had to say about being a plant for three days.

The sound of a twig snapping underfoot focused my attention upon the entry. Slowly, carefully, Bea emerged from the tent. The door was low, and she was bent at the waist. Her hair hung nearly to the ground in front of her. She emerged completely , then stood up straight, and looked at me.

I let out a sharp cry.

"What is it?" asked Damu.

"That's not my wife!"

"She is, yes."

"No, she isn't." I retrieved my wallet and produced a picture of Bea. The woman standing before me was younger, thinner, and darker skinned. In fact, it didn't seem at all unlikely that she shared Damu and Baba's ethnic background.

Baba spoke. Damu spoke. Baba spoke again. Damu took the photo of my wife and gave it to Baba. He looked carefully at the picture, then the woman, and then the picture again. He spoke again, handing the picture back to Damu.

"Baba says she is your wife. He says she looks different now because of the plant she became."

"What about the age? My wife was much older."

Damu said something to Baba, who provided a quick response.

"Baba says it is again because of the plant she became. It has youthful properties."

The woman and I exchanged glances. She smiled.

"Bea?" I said to her. She nodded. I gave her a hug. "Are you all right?"

She spoke to me, but not in english. I took a step back and looked at Damu.

"She says she does not understand."

"You understand her?"

"Yes, she speak my language."

I was at a loss for words. This woman, for all intents and purposes, was not Beautrice Leets. I turned towards the jungle and voiced my frustrations.

Damu approached me and put his hand on my shoulder. "Mister Leets. It was not difficult for you to accept your wife as a plant. Why is it so difficult for you to accept her as woman again?"

I looked at Bea. She smiled again. "Bring us back to town."