Chapter 10
Chapter 10
A solid and old Mango tree stood proud and protective in the yard, giving me shade from the sun as I sketched the wild orchids that were beginning to bloom. Noting her medicinal properties in my sketchbook like I did with every other herb.
Orchid or dendrobium is a mild analgesic and a gentle stimulant. It is suitable for abdominal pain, helps with impotence, and can improve eyesight.
The soft peach and white wavy petals naturally perfuming the air.
I continued shading in the colors while performing my solemn duty as a judge in a court where Amias was accused of the heinous crimes of stealing and biting.
"Are you still there?" Samara's voice echoed through the open screen of my laptop, pulling me away from the final strokes of color that needed to be added.
"I'm here." I grinned, shoving my face at the camera playfully.
I caught her smirk. She was dressed in her usual basketball shorts and barefoot as she struggled to hold Amias, who was currently in custody.
"What say you, your honor?" Samara asked solemnly. "What is the verdict for the defendant?"
Three of our younger cousins stood giggling on the side, delighted by the spectacle we managed to create miles apart to keep them somewhat entertained. It was summer vacation, the days were longer, and, as always, the babysitting duty fell on us.
The twins got to escape on a trip to Castillo, and with me gone, Samara was left in charge of a kiddie summer camp.
"What does the defendant have to say for himself?" I asked, sitting up, trying and failing miserably to make my voice deep, narrowing my eyes at Amias while lifting an eyebrow for an added pinch of intimidation."It was good. I'll do it again!" he boasted defensively, unapologetic, showing no remorse as he stuck his tongue out, stomping his foot defiantly.
"Since the defendant seems to have no remorse for his crimes, I sentence him to fifteen minutes of total silence," I continued. "If the defendant does not follow through with his punishment, then we'll have to take the case to a higher court where Judge Anthea will be presiding."
"Ohhhh!" His sisters giggled in unison, teasing him, hearing their mother's name as I whacked my pencil on my laptop for noise, the closest thing I had to a gavel.
"Alright, court has been adjourned. Get out of here, you little shits," Samara said, shooing them away. She tripped Amias as Tia Ida's voice echoed in the distance for them to come and eat.
"You can't talk, remember!" she said quickly in defense, pointing her finger in his face before he could retaliate, covering his mouth.
"Bye, Dove!" I heard the girls shouting off-camera, their singing voices teasing their brother.
"I'm not a member of this family. I'm an indentured servant. I have to babysit all summer by myself," Samara complained, plopping right in front of the camera.
"I wish I were there, too," I answered, smiling, knowing she was saying she missed me.
It was quiet, and although I relished my time tending the garden, Samara kept me company most days. We called each other daily, listening to each other do meaningless tasks for hours.
"Is she really going to homeschool you?" Samara asked after a comfortable silence fell between us.
"I think so." I shrugged, not fully yet coming to terms with it. I was heading into my junior year of high school. I should have been excited about all the prospects coming my way. I was looking forward to starting the college process, and my mind was made up for a degree in ethnobotany at the Municipal College of Salamanca. I opted out of prestigious schools on the other islands and in the States because Mami wanted me to stay local.
That didn't bother me. MCS had a reasonably impressive program.
The program would have allowed me to travel around the Caribbean, do fieldwork, and discover and study the healing, cultural, and social components of the variety of flora of the Lesser and Greater Antilles.
It was a dream of mine to publish my own materia medica , filled with research on the folklore and medicinal value of remedies passed down from generations.
But my dreams were now on hold.
Held hostage in the invisible grip of Meroveo's declaration.
I continued sketching, pushing away thoughts and enjoying the sun glistening on my skin. The soothing wind carried the old Spanish love ballads Tia Carmen played loudly on the radio from the open windows in the kitchen.
Her shrill voice was loud as she tried vainly to harmonize with the melodies. Samara and I couldn't stop laughing.
I could hear the pots and pans banging as she prepared lunch, the sweet smell of the arepa frying, and the delicious spice of the stewed red beans wafting in the air, triggering my taste buds. Mami had gone into town for the weekly shopping trip and had yet to return.
Tia's piercing scream ripped through the peace in the air.
I was up and running instantly, ignoring Samara's panicked questions as I dashed for the kitchen.
"Dove!" I heard Tia calling frantically for me, the echoes of the dishes crashing to the floor.
I found her standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at her hands in disbelief, violently shaking as the deep red splatter of the beans covered the floor at her feet.
"Tia!" I gasped, taking her hands and guiding her to the sink to run cool water over them. She looked around in confusion and panicked. Her usual warm gold skin had gone pale white.
"Lo momo," she answered slowly as I sat her down at the table to treat her hands with the burn salve my mother kept in the kitchen.
"Did they hurt you, Tia?" Speaking as softly as I could. I hurriedly but gently applied the healing salve of cooling aloe, calendula, and safflower root on her blistering hands.
"No," she answered clearly.
Immediately relieved that she was coming slowly back from her state of shock as she met my eyes.
"They were trying to warn me. Mi momo would never do this," she said adamantly, offended, and looking down at her hands.
"Then why don't you tell me what happened, Tia?" I asked gently, wrapping her hands in the mesh gauze like I had seen my mother do plenty of times.
She stopped me.
Her old eyes were alive, looking into mine with an otherworldly wisdom, a faraway look looming onward.
"They told me," she whispered as my heart accelerated in my chest, goosebumps rising on my skin in the middle of the summer day.
"They may be naughty, but they never lie to me." Her eyes grew frantic, fearful, and sad as she watched me.
“El diablo te está buscando.” Her low words sounded like an omen chilling me to the bone.
"Qué dijiste, Tia?" I asked, startled by the sudden tears in my eyes as I swallowed the dry lump in my throat, a sudden pit opening in my stomach.
"You are marked, mi morenita," she said in sorrowful affirmation.
It was the last thing she said before she regressed, and the innocent light in her eyes returned, along with her sweet smile. She began to hum a love ballad as I finished dressing her burns, brewing her a strong tea to help soothe the pain before taking her to rest.
After making sure she was comfortable and putting her to bed, I cleaned the mess in the kitchen. I made my way outside, my feet automatically going to the road.
Tia Carmen's prophetic words replayed in my mind like a horrific lullaby. I could feel it invading, bleeding into my soul, whispering the truth of what my logical mind refused to accept.
The house had now become too small.
The chills on my skin refused to go away despite the rays of the beaming sun, no matter how much I rubbed to chase them away. I felt suffocated and trapped like a caged animal. I needed to escape.
My mother's voice blared in my mind as I took each step further away from the safety of the garden and down to the call of the sea.
I had spent the last few hours sitting in the soft white sand under the shade of a tree, watching the fishermen haul in their goods and nets from a day's work.
There were colorful boats, both old and new, exchanging loud and friendly greetings. Sun-weathered faces, singing along to the tunes blasting on radios, children's laughter and shouts along the beach, kicking and reveling in a game of football.
I breathed in the salty air, letting it fill and cleanse my lungs one last time. I moved to soak my feet in the gentle lapping of the waves before I returned to the house to face my mother's wrath.
It was a brief moment of freedom.Freedom from the heavy burden of fear and my mother's unintentional hovering. In that moment, I was free from his shadow. I prayed to Our Lady, my hands touching the warm water as I crossed myself, silently pleading for her protection.
Making my way back, I began climbing the old gray coral stairs, smiling at each person who passed by. A mother calling her children home and a few tourists snapping pictures of the fading pink and purple sunset.
At the top of the stairs, I met a sight that caused the world around me to shift and disappear.
My body jolted to a violent stop, and the painful drumming of my heart pounded into my ears.
Meroveo.
He stood at the top of the staircase. His imposing figure leaning beneath a sole lamppost.
The smell of his lit cigar floating in the air called me to him. Unfathomable dark eyes that always seemed to glow with something sinister met mine, and I couldn't move. His smile of deviance cut through me in a way that started a terrifying flame, the appalling realization reverberating through my mind.
A silent declaration simmered in his eyes as he took a slow drag, blowing the smoke in my direction. I shivered, my body motionless under his transfixing gaze.
I didn't know whether to move or to stand still, to run and hide, but I knew it was futile. Him standing there meant I would never escape. I would never be able to outrun whatever twisted warp of infatuation was between us both.
Breathless, I watched him consume me, understanding the heat smoldering low in his gaze.
This was no dream.
No nightmare I could wake up from, no terror Mami could keep away. He was there in the flesh, standing, watching, and waiting for me to accept. No words were needed.
He patiently waited as we watched each other. He always looked so polished and put together.
His eyes roved over my body in a territorial way that made my cheeks flush. He started from my exposed legs up to the tops of my thighs. The dress my mother had deemed too short to wear in public allowed him to feast unashamedly on my flesh.
But when I left the house, I wasn't thinking about anything other than getting away. And now, here he stood, a man with absolute power and confidence, marking every part of me.
I began to move. The invisible rope that tied us together pulled me closer as I fought the tears in my eyes, the harrowing truth settling in my stomach.
Refusing to look up at him, the thunderous beating of my heart knocked against my chest in a fearful rage. Everything about him was overpowering, overwhelming, and confusingly addicting.
"Did your mother really think she could hide you from me?" He smirked wide, a deep chuckle caressing my ears as he took another slow puff from his cigar.
"I guess she thought she would try," I answered, finding my voice, hating that it came out small and unsure.
"And you?" he asked gently. "Did you think you could run away from me, little Dove?" he asked, bemusedly looking down at me as his hand gently lifted my chin to look up at him.
"No," I whispered, admitting the frightening truth out loud, leaving me feeling like I betrayed my mother.
He watched me expectantly with a raised eyebrow. "Always remember that," he said with a look that ripped me apart. "Now, to make your mother finally understand," he said, releasing me, his smile still there, although different.
I stepped away from him, crossed my arms, and shifted from foot to foot, terrified that he wanted to talk to my mother.
I didn't want him anywhere near her.
"Lead the way." He looked at me, gallantly gesturing for me to walk ahead.
"I could walk home on my own." I tried to be persuasive and sound authoritative, but it was useless. "I would prefer it," I tried again in vain.
"It's not a request, Dove," he said, closing the subject and walking past me, expecting me to follow the smoke blowing from his lips. With one lingering look, he gave me a silent command to follow. And it dawned on me that he was headed toward the house. He must have known where I was this entire time. I became horrified, trying to hide the panic.
As we silently walked, he let out a loud, sharp whistle that pierced sharply through the air. I looked around, but nothing was out of place; nothing stuck out—just the locals going about their business at the end of the day.
"I'm a simple man, Dove," he said after a few moments of loud silence between us. His legs were much longer than mine, but he kept at my pace, assuring me that he was always beside me. Ever the gentleman, walking on the outside of the road.
"I've always been straightforward in what I want. I don't have the time or need to dance around the truth," he continued.
My heartbeat sped up in my chest at his words as I kept looking straight ahead, looking anywhere but at him.
"I like you," he said simply, and I sensed the smile coming out after his words.
I stopped walking, confusion and fear swimming in my mind. "But I don't like you," I said softly. I was too terrified to look at him, feeling the power of his eyes directly on me.
"No?" he asked sarcastically, his hand reaching to touch the curls that escaped my braid. His rough fingers gently grazed my neck as he whispered into my ear. "Then why are your cheeks so red?" He laughed slowly, the sound reaching a secret part of me. "Why is your heart beating so fast?" he continued. His finger grazed the pulse point above my collarbone. "And," his voice was deeper, placing his lips at the top of my ear, "why are you dreaming of me, little Dove? I know all about your dreams. I enjoy them, too."
" J esu Christo!" I heard Tia Carmen's loud gasp as she opened the screen door, made the sign of the cross, and frantically looked at me with horrified pity.
"No, senorita." I could hear the light humor in Meroveo's voice behind me. "Meroveo De Los Santos," he corrected her, introducing himself to my elderly aunt, who was staring wide-eyed.
"Mami," I called out desperately, seeing my mother barge through the screen door, nearly ripping it off its hinges. Her eyes showed a wild terror as I tried to make her see how sorry I was.
But her viper-like gaze was settled on the looming figure behind me.
I felt one of his hands on my shoulder, holding me firmly and stopping me from going to my mother. His thumb stroked the side of my neck gently, and I visibly shook, afraid of what he might do to Mami and Tia Carmen.
The silence was heavy in the air.
Mami's eyes darted to the motions of his hand on my neck.
"I believe you, and I must come to an understanding, Demetria," Meroveo said with calm ease and the practiced precision of a man who did business every day.
"Never," my mother said solemnly, shaking her head back and forth in muted disbelief. The pure disdain in her eyes was scathing, her body tense and bristling with barely controlled animosity.
Meroveo scoffed behind me, the sound vibrating in my chest as he continued to stroke my skin. Strangely enough, he was trying to comfort me.
"We can continue to discuss this here in front of Dove," he said, kissing the very top of my head. "But I think we would both prefer to talk alone."
The color completely drained from Mami's face, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. Growing up, she drilled in my mind over and over to never let anyone touch the crown of my head. It was considered a sacred place in the human body. She always warned you could never know a person's true intentions. Mami looked at me then, her eyes going soft with pain. Any hope we both had was dying in that quiet moment between us.
"We can speak out here." Her words came out strained but did not lose any of their fierceness, but her will was forcefully bent.
"That is very gracious of you," Meroveo said as he let me go. My mother quickly grabbed me, pushing me inside the house.
The screen slammed behind me, creating a false barrier between us. We both knew there was nothing really keeping him out. Our eyes connected behind the screen mesh as he took out another cigarillo with a satisfied smile.
"I can't understand what a monster like you wants with a sixteen-year-old girl when you could have any woman in the world?"
"You are mistaken about two things," he responded to her as if they knew each other from another life.
"You assume I am a monster when it is the monsters who are afraid of me," he said with no smugness in his voice but simple facts. He took another slow drag before continuing."And you assume my intentions are not honorable towards your daughter." His eyes found me again, the golden ring on his middle finger shining under the porch light.
I wanted to look away, but he didn't let me. His gaze burned in my direction, daring me to defy him. But I said nothing. I was too horridly mystified.
"Tia Carmen," my mother said, never taking her eyes off Meroveo. "Take Dove to the room." She immediately turned to look at me.
"And don't you dare come out until I come to get you myself." My mother had never looked at me like that.
I felt Tia Carmen's bony fingers as she guided me to the bedroom. "Por Dio, nena, what have you gotten yourself into?" She clicked her tongue, softly reprimanding me for something I had no control over. "God knows no one will be able to keep him away from you, not even Demetria." She sighed, making a cross before she disappeared, leaving me in the room alone and shutting the door in front of me.
I pressed my ear to the door, straining to hear anything, but was met with complete silence.