I awaken to the sounds of birds chirping. Sunlight streams into my room through the blinds. I fight the cobwebs of sleep and peer around, events of the previous night flooding my fatigued brain – Diablo!
My fear returns and nestles in the pit of my stomach. The clock on the wall says 6 AM. I lie really still and listen for sounds, voices. Nothing.
Finally, I slide out of bed and poke around, opening drawers and looking for, well, stuff.
I tiptoe to the window and adjust the blinds. Sunlight floods the room. In the natural light, my room is nicer – light, airy with beautiful views of the valley. I look out of my window and listen to the sounds of the ocean and I think of Juan and Enfermera. A feeling of sadness washes over me - I miss Enfermera so much.
I hear a voice and look to my left. It’s Santana on the balcony of another room, talking to someone. I drop out of sight but still peep through the blinds. She has a sheet draped around her and her hair looks dishevelled, like she just woke up. I can’t see the other person’s face as yet. When she moves, the sheet dislodges and I get a glimpse of her bare breasts. She laughs, picks up the sheet and drapes it around her again. Voyeuristic, yet I can’t look away.
Then I hear Diablo’s voice and I shrink back. It can’t be – she’s his sister.
But I know that voice - I’ve heard it a thousand times in my nightmares and I will never forget it.
I look at the clock again – 6:10AM. Why on earth would she be in her brother’s room at this time of the morning? Naked.
Maybe I heard wrong. Maybe I’m still asleep and dreaming. Maybe ...
Then I catch a glimpse of his butt. He’s naked too.
I don’t believe it. This is so fucked up!
When I peep out of the window again, they’ve left the balcony.
Confused at what I just saw, I move away from the window. After a while I resume my poking around the room.
One of the closets open into a bathroom. A modern one at that. Great! After the facilities at Juan and Enfermera’s, this feels like The Hilton. I step in and splash water on my face.
Suddenly, I hear a knock at the door and I jump. Slowly, I turn off the taps and tiptoe back into the room.
Diablo?
To my relief, a lady in her fifties opens my door and breezes in. Plump, with an infectious smile, she fills the room with her effervescence. She’s dressed like a Mexican peasant – cream shirt, long, flowing, brown skirt, tan sandals and her long black hair is tied back with a cream scarf.
‘Hola, Señorita,’ she greets, smiling. Since her smile reaches her eyes, I reason she must be happy to see me.
‘Hola,’ I reply.
‘Señorita, I’m Maria, my serrrvant. Ask me aaaaanything I want. Diablo – he go to work now but he want you to make me comfortable.’
‘Um ...’ I have to work this one out. She seems lovely but her English ...
‘Since my English is very good, Señorita, you will be taking care of me.’
Okay, I’m being Punk’d for sure, but I resist the urge to look around for cameras.
‘Thanks,’ I say, silently trying to work out what she just said.
‘Rosa, she will bring me breakfast in a moment, Señorita.’
‘Rosa…um, thanks Maria, but I …like, I don’t want any breakfast.’
I dare not eat anything here until I know exactly what it is and where it came from. Human lasagne is not my thing.
‘Can I just have some coffee, please?’ My voice is humble, friendly. I’m really uncomfortable with the idea of having a servant.
‘N ... no breakfast?’ Her fizz evaporates. ‘No breakfast ...’ She studies the carpet. Then she looks up at me and the fizz is back with a vengeance. ‘Cerrrrtainly Señorita.,’ she says, her tone obsequious. ‘You will come only with coffee. No breakfast.’ She leaves, shutting the door behind her.
Back to my fretting - what plans does he have for me? Maria appears pleasant and wants to make me comfortable – why? What’s Diablo’s agenda? Is he trying to feed me and fatten me for some sinister reason? A Mexican version of Hansel and Gretel?
My morbid thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. Maria and a second lady enter the room with a tray containing food and coffee.
‘Diablo’s woman,’ Maria murmurs.
The second lady smiles. ‘Hola Señorita..’ Her dress is similar to Maria’s and her dark hair is tightly coiled on the top of her head. Her smile also reaches her eyes.
‘Eh, Rosa, Señorita. ... Rosa is my name. I bring coffee and bacon, eggs, toast ... Just like Diablo say.’ She places the tray on the table, steps back and stands slightly behind Maria. As she links and unlinks her pudgy fingers, her cheeks grow redder by the minute – the reddest I have ever seen.
I return her smile. ‘Hola, I’m Payt …’
‘Rosa, she don’t speak English good,’ Maria interrupts, ‘so I helpa …’
Rosa jerks her head to look at Maria, her eyes blazing. ‘I speak good English! Why you say that, Maria?’
Maria silently purses her lips and bestows Rosa a condescending look.
Rosa bares her teeth at Maria for a moment, then appears to remember me. She turns to me and her smile is back. She glances at the breakfast tray then at me.
‘No thanks, Rosa,’ I say. ‘I’m not …’
‘No breakfast for Señorita?’ Her breathing becomes rapid.
‘Eh, no thanks. I’m not hungry.’ I was bloody starving.
Rosa flashes Maria a I-get-what-you-say look.
Maria nods and mutters, ‘Told you.’
I wish they wouldn’t take a breakfast refusal so personally.
Rosa suddenly grins again. ‘You from America, Señorita?’ she asks, handing me a cup of coffee.
‘Eh, yeah, thanks.’
‘I know someone in America, Señorita,’ she says, her voice mounting with excitement. ‘Her name is Syyylvia.’ She stops and waits for my response.
I look up when she doesn’t continue. ‘Eh ... um ...?’
‘You know her, Señorita? She got a black hair and she is eh ...’ She pauses and sticks out her elbows to her side, ‘but she is very nice lady. She is my sister’s…eh ... she is my cousin. My cousin, yes. She live in America and she got her own house. You know her, Señorita? You know her?’
‘Eh, well, America is ...’ I look at her cherubic, expectant face. ‘Actually Rosa, she sounds familiar.’ I just don’t have the heart to disappoint her.
She beams at my answer and shoots Maria a see-I-told-you-I-know-important-people-in-America look.
I smile at her naiveté.
Maria exhales loudly. ‘You know, Rosa,’ she snaps, ‘America is a big country and there are lots of Sylvia’s here … eh, there. So is not possible for Señorita to know all the Sylvias in America, eh?’
Okay, Maria is definitely the brains in this operation.
She turns to me. ‘Do you know Enrique, Señorita? He is your ...your cousin.’
Scratch that – there is no brain in this operation. Let’s get that fact out of the way.
‘He has a big truck and he go to America all the time,’ Maria continues. ‘He make a lot of money.’ She drops her voice and leans towards me. ‘He make ... he make a lot of money when he take people from here to America but they have to hide in the back of the truck and must be very ...’ She puts her finger to her lip and winks.
Ah, a people smuggler – Immigration’s favorite person.
‘I think I do,’ I say. ‘Sounds familiar. Think I have seen him on TV. Border Patrol.’
She beams and even bows slightly then looks at Rosa. ‘You see? My family – they are famous people. They are on TV in America.’
Wow. She got the entire sentence right.
Rosa mutters under her breath then grins again.
At least they’re entertaining.
‘Um, Maria, do you have any clothes I can like, borrow? I need to shower and ...’ I gesture to my clothes. ‘I didn’t bring anything.’
‘Of course, Señorita!’ Maria says. ‘I’m now the Señorita of Tana-Mera and I can have anything I want.’
Oh Yeah? What about freedom for the people of Siempre? What about my freedom? How about I pull rank and demand that?
‘Señorita, we are so happy Diablo find you,’ Rosa gushes. This time her nose lights up – becomes red and shiny.
What does she mean? And after what I saw this morning – his perverted relationship with his sister, why the hell does he need me? For appearances?
I drink another cup of coffee while Maria squints at my frame.
‘Mmm ... I am very thin, Señorita, but I will see what you can do.’
She leaves the room and returns with dresses that hang on me. I assume they’re Santana’s and I don’t like the idea of wearing them, but I have no choice.
After a while, I leave the room to take a shower. When I re-enter my room, both ladies are lounging on my bed, eating my breakfast and arguing between themselves in Spanish.
I smile to myself. So much for being my servants.
After they finish every morsel of my breakfast, they fuss over me - help me dress, brush my hair then freshen my room and bathroom. I’m really happy we’re getting along, especially since I miss Enfermera.
At one point, during one of their many petty arguments about whether to leave the window open or not, reality hits me and I indulge in a silent pity-party for myself.
The ladies pause with their arguing and stare at me.
‘Santa Maria!’ Maria shrieks. ‘Why ... how ... what is wrong child?’
Both ladies flutter around me.
‘You upset her when you ask her so many questions,’ Rosa shouts at Maria. ‘Now Diablo, he kill us.’
‘NO! I open the window that’s why,’ Maria says and shuts the window. She spins around to face me. ‘Señorita, Rosa, she upset you ...’
‘No ... no ... no ...’ I wipe away tears with the back of my hand. ‘Nothing to do with the window … you …either one … ’
They exchange helpless looks.
‘I’m hungry, that’s why,’ Maria says and rubs my back.
‘Si,’ Rosa says, ‘you are hungry, Señorita. You must eat.’
Both ladies glance at the empty breakfast tray and then at each other. Rosa’s face turns fire-engine red. Maria strategically moves in front of the empty breakfast tray, blocking it from my view.
‘I’m okay, I’m okay.’ I sniff loudly then furiously dab my eyes.
They bring me another pot of coffee and enough chocolate biscuits to feed a small country. I nibble on a biscuit and drink another cup of lukewarm coffee, while they eat the rest of the biscuits and finish the coffee.
After that, Rosa massages my feet, while Maria massages my head and makes all sorts of clucking noises. I’m just not comfortable with their pampering.
‘Please don’t,’ I say.
They ignore my protests and increase the intensity.
‘You must sleep,’ Rosa says.
‘Eh, I’m okay. ’Sides, it’s too bright … too much coffee.’
They respond by drawing the sheets over me, tucking me in and closing the blinds. Big bullies.
To my surprise, I fall asleep immediately.
When I awake, it’s 4 PM and I’m disoriented. After a while, I slide out of bed and make my way to my two new friends with benefits.
They welcome me warmly but peer at my face. I think they’re worried that I will cry again. To put me at ease, they laugh and poke fun at each other. I really appreciate their niceness and I gravitate towards them.
I’m starving but I can’t bring myself to eat. I just ask for more coffee as I surreptitiously take in my surroundings, looking for ... well, cadavers, mighty cleavers, tablecloths made out of human skins, lima beans...
Nothing. Everything here looks so confusingly normal. I open the refrigerator on the pretext of getting more milk. Nothing - just cheese, milk, soft drinks – all the stuff you’d find in Elaine’s kitchen back home. (Not my fridge though – it’s always filled with beer, flat Coke and moldy month-old pizza. I used to explain that I was planning to make penicillin for a third world country.)
Maybe the villagers are wrong about the cannibal bit. Please let them be wrong. I’m starving.
Rosa takes my hand. ‘Come see your home.’
My home. Meekly, I go with her.
Tana Mera is perched on top of a hill with breathtaking views of the ocean and partial views of the valley. The lawns around the ranch are manicured and lush with luxuriant blooms of roses, dahlias and tulips – colourful and festive. A gardener pruning some rosebushes pauses and stares at me.
‘¡La mujer de Diablo!’ Rosa yells. (This is Diablo’s woman!)
He breaks into a smile. ‘AAAHHH! My name Sam,’ he says, and bows slightly. ‘Velcome, Señorita.’
I smile at him. ‘Nice to meet you Sam.’
‘¡La mujer de Diablo!’ Sam suddenly yells to someone behind me.
Startled, I spin around and see an armed guard stationed in a tower overlooking the ranch.
‘AAAAHHH!’ the guard says. ‘Señorita!’ He nods.
‘Come,’ Rosa says and we continue our tour. ‘We gotta ten villas. You, Diablo, you stay in that villa.’ She points to the one I slept in.
‘Christa,’ she says, pointing to the largest villa on the highest point of the ranch. ‘She sleep there, that villa. The big one.’
So Christa has a bird’s eye view of her five thuggish sons and the men that resided at the ranch – how controlling.
‘Where is everyone right now?’
‘They go work. Later, they come, we make a party.’
Work. Mfff! Bet they’re out pillaging and stealing from other villages or shooting foreigners and throwing them into the ocean. But I’m happy they aren’t around so I can relax a little. And I do, while Maria and Rosa busy themselves with dinner preparations for about thirty-five people and during which time, they argue every single minute, giving me a massive headache.
As the day fades, my stomach starts to churn. I become restless and wear out my spearmint carpet with my pacing. They’re calling me Diablo’s woman – scary. I’m twenty-one, not good wife material. I suck at most domestic chores and duties, so I’m bound to disappoint. Wonder if he knows my age? I doubt it. I doubt he knows anything about me. What about the half-man half-beast issue? What about the sexual aspect? The thought of fucking him makes me hurl. I dash to the bathroom and bend over the sink for a while.
There is nothing to throw up. I still haven’t eaten, save for a few biscuits. My mind is a muddle, half-man half-beast ... sex ... cannibals ... prisoner.