CHAPTER 31 - THE CEMETERY
The breaking of Maria's family escalated tragically when a gardener came upon Rosalinda, barely conscious, lying on the ground behind the hotel. One of the tourists, a doctor, came to attend her, but it was already too late. Jacob left to fetch Jose and Maria from the banquet hall.
There was nothing left to do except to arrange for burial and Jacob kindly saw to that. When Maria tearfully told Goldie about the beautiful dress Rosalinda had been keeping for a special occasion, it was decided to bury the child in the dress.
To everyone's shocked surprise, within the hour and before Rosalinda could be prepared for interment, her brother, Luis, began staggering and bleeding from the mouth. By the time the doctor was recalled, he found the boy fatally afflicted with the same mysterious malady and pronounced him dead. The doctor spoke of quarantining the hotel and its occupants, but in the end, nothing was done.
Everyone in the village and those at the hotel mourned along with the family.
"So young, so lovely!" they said of Rosalinda.
"So grownup, and handsome, and smart!" they said of Luis.
When Joseph came to help nail the bodies into coffins, Maria broke down and an exasperated Jose drove her from the room. Because of the tropical heat, and despite a sudden rainstorm, the burial was accomplished without delay. Then the mourners tried to get on with their lives. No one took the loss harder than Maria, who was forced to return to a home that was now too empty of children and too full of Jose.
Two long days after they laid their children to rest, the heavy downpour of rain finally slacked off, then stopped, and the sun burst forth. Jose was becoming angry with Maria, who mourned unceasingly. Her boundless grief had become an agony to him.
She did not cook.
She did not clean.
She did not go to the market.
She spent her days and nights in bed with the curtains drawn, quietly sobbing in the dark. She would not even light candles or pray to her saints.
Jose barged into the darkened room and stood over his wife. "I have made beans. Try to eat something." He held out a dish of rice, beans, and boiled yucca. The smell was tantalizing, but she lay there, ignoring the food. She ignored Jose.
This irritated Jose. He slammed the dish on the floor and turned back to the bed. He shook his wife roughly. "Maria! Stop! You are making me angry!" When Maria didn't respond, Jose's face flushed and his nostrils flared.
"MARIA! MY TEMPER IS AROUSED!"
Maria turned to face him and grabbed his arm. She drew herself face to face with her husband and whispered, "Jose, I had that dream again. I saw Rosalinda brought to a river to bathe. Little things moving on the water call out to her. They are too small to help, so they invade my dreams. These invisibles say I must go to her. To Luis. Our children. They are not dead!"
Jose tried to pull away, but her grip was too strong. Maria had been babbling of her recurring dream since the day of the funeral and Jose had heard enough. He fought to rise, to escape Maria's fierce grip.
"Rosalinda is alive! She pleads to me to come for her. We must go and bring her back. We must bring her home where she'll be safe!" She continued to plead, clutching at him with both hands. Jose gained his footing and sprang up, but he couldn't shake Maria's grasp and his shirt tore away in her hand.
"DIOS MIO! NO MAS! NO MORE!"
He yanked the curtains open. The late afternoon sun streamed into the little room. Maria shielded her eyes with her hands and turned toward the wall.
"Do not waste time watching the door, woman! They will not be back!"
He tried to drag her from the bed.
"You will get up, Maria! NOW! And tell me no more of your dreams."
"Will you go to the cemetery with me, Jose?" she pleaded in a small voice.
"I am going out. I will get my mother and my sister, Luisa. If you will not get up, they will get you up!"
And he left his wife sobbing on the bed.
She had been pleading with Jose for almost a week, but he refused to accompany her. Very well, she would have to try by herself. Maria rose quickly, before it was too late. If she waited until her in-laws arrived, she'd never be permitted to look for her children. She dressed with haste, then took a mouthful of rum, and spat it onto her favorite saint's statue. The saint, she knew, would be pleased with her sacrifice.
Maria quickly lit all the candles in her bedroom and breathed a prayer. Jose still hadn't returned, so she slipped out the front door, passing once again over the buried bundle, and glanced nervously about. Jose was nowhere in sight! Sandals slapping against the bare earth, she set off quickly in the direction of the cemetery.
She knew Rosalinda was alive! The dream had been so clear and she'd felt her daughter's despair. Even though she didn't get the same strong images from Luis, she was sure he also lived. There was something else, too. Something she dared not mention to Jose. Something she dared not even admit to herself.
It promised to be a very hot day and the road was still muddy from the last storm, making her sandals squish with every step. Maria was determined to find her children. They would all be together again. Jose would be so surprised and pleased when he saw her bring back the children. She quickened her pace.
As she trotted along, Maria waved absently to the village youngsters playing in the mud beside the road. They returned her greeting. The intense heat made her clothing damp against her skin. Beads of perspiration dotted her forehead.
Her journey became increasingly difficult as the jungle had begun to grow back across the path, for as often as men with machetes cleared away the stubborn growth it reappeared almost overnight, thanks to the many rains. By now, the foliage was so dense that she had to claw her way through. But Maria was persistent and quickly traveled the two miles over the dirt road to the cemetery.
She stepped eagerly onto the cemetery grounds, into the realm of the dead, and glanced about. Save for its occupants, the cemetery seemed deserted. She hurried across the clearing to her children's graves.
From her perch in the branches of a cypress tree, Oya, the orisha of the dead, watched Maria’s movements with interest. Oya knew that everyone came to her sooner or later. This woman did not belong here, but Oya could afford to wait.
While Oya waited, she amused herself by pursing her lips and sending her breath gently along the ground. As Death's breath fell upon them, the leaves on the ground turned brown and withered. They crackled as they were swept along until they came to Maria and swirled about her ankles.
Maria started with alarm.
So many dead leaves near her.
Circling her feet.
Whispering messages in soft voices.
It seemed, if only she listened hard enough, she could hear what they were saying. As she strained to hear, the leaves began to tell a story. They told of those who came to the cemetery. Those who were not dead. But Maria didn't want to hear this, so the leaves began to tease her. They swirled under her skirt and lifted the hem.
With a start, Maria realized there was no wind in the cemetery, save for the breeze that clung to her. She gave a little squeal of terror and, as quickly as it had come up, the breeze died out.
Death held her breath.
Maria held her breath.
Nothing!
But the dream had been so real. And always the same. The nagging thought she had locked her mind against came calling again. Maria savagely pushed the thought away and sank down by the tree. She waited and, as time passed, the sun sank lower in the sky.
Soon it would be dark. Maria threw back her head and howled in despair. She had lost her children a second time! After a bit she realized there was no hope. It was best to go home. She rose slowly, sadly, leaning her weight against the tree for support then, turning numbly, began trudging back down the road.
As Maria stumbled along, her head down, something in the dirt caught her eye. She stopped short, gave a gasp of surprise, and fell to her knees. A small, sharp stone bit into her right knee, bu
t Maria didn't feel the pain. Her attention was riveted on the tiny object.
She scooped it up, brushed away the dirt, and saw it was a tiny, peach, rolled-silk flower. The flower had a broken thread attached as if it had been sewn to some garment and then torn off. The bad thought tried to sneak up on her again, but Maria pushed it from her mind. She rose with the flower clutched in her hand, a silent tear rolling down one cheek.
Maria slowly turned to face the two graves, which looked exactly as she had left them. But now she saw they weren't the same. Not really. Only made to look as they had been on the day of the burial and, by now, heavy rain had washed away any footprints.
But not the flower!
The flower was from Rosalinda's elegant, new dress, the one the English lady had given her. Rosalinda had been buried in that dress, nailed into a coffin at her home in Cristo, and carried here. There was no way the little rose could have fallen in the cemetery, unless Rosalinda had just gotten up and walked away. Or unless Rosalinda had been carried away.
If Rosalinda was gone, where was Luis? Certainly, Luis had been taken to wherever Rosalinda was now. Both children needed her help. No wonder Rosalinda had been so desperately trying to contact her. Then the thought, the one Maria had managed to hold at bay for so long, burst forth in her consciousness:
IT WAS RAMON!
Ramon had murdered her children!
Ramon had stolen their bodies!
And he had used her book to do it!
Truth overwhelmed her and Maria ran back to the road, back to the village. As she ran, she clutched the little flower. Tears blinded her eyes and one floppy sandal caught on uneven ground. She fell, skinning both , and bruising her chin.
Maria jumped up, covered with mud, injured, and still crying. But she had the flower! She kept running, back to her home and Jose. Even as she ran, she knew Jose wouldn't listen to her. The man who'd become a stranger to her would not stand against Ramon. Not even to recover their children.
As she ran, dark forces gathered behind her. Oya was angry. Ramon's causing living children to be buried was a grievous affront to the orisha. In her pique, Oya abandoned her domain, causing confusion among the pantheon of invisibles
Thus, Julia's prophecy came to pass, for the very gods exchanged places. While it had been Santeria's Oya who noted Maria's arrival to the cemetery, it was Vaudun's Baron Samedi, wearing his tall, black hat and hidden in the shadows, who watched her go.
Baron Samedi was a Loa of the Dead, but he was also a protector of children. By burying living children, Ramon had insulted the gods of every religion. "It's time someone interceded on behalf of this evil sorcerer’s many victims," he mused. The Guardian of the Cemetery rested his digging tools atop a coffin marked with a black X as he considered how best to set the matter right.
Spellbound: a Tale of Magic, Mystery & Murder Page 34
