*****
The next evening, Elena went for a walk after dinner. She loved being alone in the darkness, strolling down the paths between the villas. Her senses were sharpened. The smell of the fruits hanging in the trees seemed stronger. The sound of the palm fronds sounded like pages of paper scraping together. The Spanish moss whispered from the branches high above. The sky was the deepest shade of cobalt blue.
Eventually, she found herself drawn to noises—cars, yelling, and boisterous laughter. Elena remained hidden, but watched as several cars pulled up to a beautifully appointed villa with a long, curving driveway. The villa’s European architectural style was created with Mexican materials. All the popular magazines displayed it as an example of a cross-cultural fusion of elegance.
She crept closer, surveying the situation. Loud American music blared from within the house. Shadows of people danced in the upstairs windows, and a large crowd mingled rambunctiously throughout the first floor. She struggled to be assertive. Hadn’t she studied them enough to blend in? But she approached with caution, suddenly self-conscious of her appearance. Her hair was pulled into a simple ponytail. Even when rich girls wore ponytails, their hair seemed shinier and bouncier, perfect as an American doll. Elena didn’t even own make-up. She wore second-hand faded jeans and her favorite but ill-fitting yellow sweater with old stains that never came out in the wash.
She watched a group of kids her age approach the side door. The guys carried cases of beer ahead of the rest of the group. Gold chains glistened in the lamplight. Jeans were crisp, sneakers were spotless and white. Elena hung back, waiting in the shadows of the trees.
Another crowd of kids came up after the first group, and she felt her confidence revive. Definitely part of the same crowd, but reasonably scruffy. Plain t-shirts and cut-off shorts, and scuffed loafers. They carried a carton of tequila made locally and favored by people in the village. She snuck up behind them, and tried to act as though she was with them, but lagged behind just a step or two.
The girl in front of her was tall, wearing a long, curling black ponytail. Like her friends, she dressed casually, but as Elena got closer, she noticed essential clues. They were not local. Their accent was urbane, educated—worldly. The girl reached back to fluff her hair, and Elena saw the jewelry: gold and fire opals. Probably enough to fund a college education.
Elena was momentarily shaken, but determined to follow through with her plan. She took a step forward, peering around the kids into the well-lit house. She knew it was best to keep moving. If she just stood there and looked out of place someone would notice. She never attended a party like this before. Never just kids her age, only family parties. This was new and dangerous territory in more ways than one. She did her best to look natural by grabbing a beer off the counter. She took a sip and smiled, and moved into the next room.
The music was loud, and the room so crowded that it was hard to distinguish which couples were dancing together. Elena shrunk back, inching her way along the wall. The crowd moved as one entity, occasionally forcing her out of the safe place she found for herself.
Finally, Elena sidled up next to a tall potted plant in the corner of the living room. The beer’s flavor changed as it warmed up. It was rank and cloying, but she didn’t want to let go of it.
“Pretty bad, huh?” a voice above her said.
Startled, she looked up to see a handsome guy, a little older than herself. She tried to smile. “Huh?”
“That beer is swill. Someone was being cheap,” he said as he reached out gently, taking the beer from her and putting it on a shelf nearby. “Let me get you something better.” He darted out of sight for a few minutes, and returned with a red plastic cup. “Here,” he said as he shook it. The ice cubes sloshed. “No roofies, I promise.”
Elena sniffed at it. “What is it?”
“Bloody Maria. Like a Bloody Mary, only with tequila instead of vodka.”
She took a sip and was surprised to be pleased with it. She smiled back at him. “Thank you. I never really liked beer.”
“You like the hard stuff, huh?” he said with a wink.
She tried not to flinch at the innuendo. She felt so out of her element that she may as well have been on another planet. “I like tequila.”
“Reposado or añejo?”
She thought for a moment, thinking about her uncle talking to his friends as they relaxed after work. The tequila they sipped…“Añejo. I like it straight up, but this is good. Not too sweet.”
He drew himself up, assessing her. She couldn’t read his expression. His eyes looked sleepy, sly, and admiring.
She wasn’t prepared to overcome her shyness. She thought she could just be invisible. Now she was confronted with one of them. He seemed nice enough. Elena struggled to find words. “Are you from the city?”
He nodded, “Yeah, and you?”
“I’m from town. The neighborhood with all the art galleries,” she said, straightening. She enjoyed her drink, and was gaining ever more confidence.
“Not from the village? You look like you could be,” he said with an appraising stare.
The flash of indignation was raw. “The village? Why do you think I’m from there?”
He laughed. “I’m just kidding, relax. You drink too slow. You should be on the next one by now.”
The conversation slowed with her gulping down her drink. Truth be told, it was a harsh flavor, but its effects made her care less about it. She gave way to the joy of adventure.
She learned his name was Diego. He went to private school, and was planning to attend one of the Ivy League colleges in the US. Diego leaned in ever closer, touching her arm, tracing a line along her sleeve. Although she was self-conscious about her old yellow sweater, she liked the attention.
The situation exploded with an intrusion. Elena recognized her. It was the Fire Opal Girl she had followed into the house. She had taken the ponytail down, revealing blond highlights that reminded Elena of a tiger. Her eyes burned as she stared at Elena. “Diego, where have you been? I’ve been stuck talking to Juan’s stupid friend…and who is this? What are you doing with her?”
“Relax, I was procuring a treat for Juan.”
The girl rolled her eyes. “Please, don’t even try with excuses.”
“Seriously, look at her! She isn’t even my type. Juan doesn’t have a girlfriend, and you know what they say about village girls. Eager to please…” Elena watched in amazement as his posture changed, his expression growing cruel, matching that of his girlfriend.
Fire Opal Girl scrutinized Elena, then Diego. “You sure you weren’t trying to get a little taste for yourself before passing her along to Juan?”
Diego laughed raucously. “Of course not! Sweetheart, I love you and you know it. And really, when would I ever do a girl from the village? They might like to do it with us, but they’ve all got fleas! Though I don’t think Juan will mind. He seems desperate tonight.”
His girlfriend smirked, but held back laughter. “You had better not. If I get any…diseases, I’ll know who to blame, and I’ll tell everyone about you.”
Elena gasped, hating not only the accusations, but how easily she was cast aside. “I’m not…I’m not…”
Fire Opal Girl whirled about like a trained soldier, her predatory focus on Elena. “Yes, you are. Stupid slut. You village girls are all the same. If you get one of our guys, you’ll get to live like us.” She reached out, yanking Elena’s ponytail. Tears burst from her eyes. “The only way you’ll see our lives is by doing our laundry, washing our dishes, and screwing our husbands when you think the rest of us won’t notice!” As Elena felt the sting of the slap across her face and her sight was washed out.
“I’m not…” Elena became aware that everyone was watching. She burned under their stares.
“So you keep saying. But you are. Look at you, stains on your clothes, you wear no make-up, and…what’s this?” The girl’s eyes flashed, reflecting the shiny o
bject around Elena’s neck, like a carrion bird cawing at a treasure. Perfectly manicured fingernails scraped at her collarbone, scooping along the chain, and grasping the silver pendant. “She thought she could pass for one of us! But look at these old clothes. Who do they belong to? A cousin? A sister?” The crowd began to laugh. This entertainment was far better than dancing. “And you wear one of these,” she said, tugging at the pendant. “You worship pagan witch gods.” The tugging became harsh, and the double-edged axe was ripped from her neck, and held up for all to see. “Throw this bitch out!”
Diego was no longer kind. “Looks like you won’t be getting some after all,” he said, shoving Elena toward the kitchen.
The Fire Opal Girl took charge, rushing forward to grab Elena by her hair. She dragged her to the door and pushed her out. As Elena landed in the mud, the girl threw the pendant at her. It landed in the muck, equally forsaken. “You think you’re good enough to steal him from me? What do you have? Nothing! I’m going to summon the Red Witch, and she’s going to get you and you’ll be cursed!”
Fire Opal Girl took a step down, and everyone standing behind her, pointing and elbowing each other. Diego’s mocking laughter crowed above the rest. The girl kicked Elena in the ribs, and they all laughed and disappeared into the house, slamming the door. Howls erupted. She sat alone in the dark, the cold mud seeped into her sweater. A flare of
The Red Witch Page 5
