Spellbound: a Tale of Magic, Mystery & Murder
Page 46
CHAPTER 43 - THE PATRIARCH
The next morning the five Wiccans decided to spend time in the hotel gift shop before having a late brunch in the dining room. Then, flying in the face of caution, they spent a sunny afternoon by the pool. Boy, still in conflict over the need for a blood sacrifice, channeled his frustration by ferociously swimming laps until hysterical mothers pulled their children from the pool.
He was on his thirtieth lap, knifing through the clear, green water. As he charged in for a turn, Samantha stepped to the pool’s edge and peered down. Water churned up as Boy flipped neatly into the return lap and she decided his endurance wasn’t going to run down any time soon.
"He’s like a juggernaut," she observed.
By this time, all the guests had been driven from the pool and were now huddled at the far end of the landscaped patio, except for one couple, who sat at an umbrella-shaded table, delicately picking at a platter of barbecued chicken wings and mango slices. Raven approached them, begging.
"Do you mind?" she asked. "I think that annoying man would come out of the pool if he were offered a little treat." The couple shrugged. Raven placed two of the chicken wings on a napkin, thanked the couple, and turned back to the pool. She knelt poolside, waiting for Boy to swim by.
The big man shot through the water and was approaching the turn when he heard Raven’s voice. The mention of a special treat brought him to a halt. His head popped out of the water and he recognized the tantalizing aroma of barbecued chicken. Raven held the treat out to him. As he reached for it, she grabbed his wrist.
"Come out of that pool right now!"
He tried to yank free and Raven hissed, "I mean it. You’re frightening women and children. You’ve driven everyone else from the pool."
"Huh," Boy began, then her meaning sunk in. Embarrassed, he pulled himself from the water. The other guests applauded. Raven handed him the promised treat, then turned and bowed to their audience.
"He’s perfectly harmless, I assure you." Turning to Boy, she whispered, "Much like an overgrown puppy."
Back in their room, the Wiccans took turns showering, then decided it was time for their evening meal. In a country where a man may have as many women as he can financially afford, Boy’s rooming with four such lovely ladies had made him a celebrity in the local area.
In their patriarchal society, the hotel staff had designated Boy as the patriarch of this group. So it was that the hostess rushed forward as they entered the dining room. This most important man and his companions must be seated without delay.
Since Boy’s arrival, dining at Las Naranjas had become a torturous experience as the women found it impossible to place their own orders when their patriarch was with them. Even though they paid for their own meals, the women’s orders must now be placed with Boy, who was then forced to repeat everything to the waiter. The ladies found this process frustrating since Boy was a careless translator.
"All you women are so snappish tonight," complained Boy.
"You’d be snappish, too, if your own order had to be repeated six times because our waiter’s a macho jerk," snapped Robin.
"Huh?" he said, still not understanding why everyone was piqued.
"That’s it!" exclaimed Robin. "I’d stab you with my knife, and take my chances with Ramon, except the stupid waiter won’t bring me one!"
"Take mine," Boy offered, extending it to her.
"That’s it!" shouted Robin. She threw her roll at Boy, striking his forehead.
"OW! What did I do?"
"You really don’t know, do you?" Robin reached for another roll, but Cat caught her hand.
"Everyone just calm down," insisted Raven. "Now, Dominicans are just about the friendliest people in the world, but we’re in a country of macho men. As long as you’re at our table, Boy, the waiter won’t take our orders. Everyone has to go through you. And you, Boy, are not paying attention!"
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "So, we women are giving you two choices, Boy. One is to seat you at a separate table so we can regain control of our lives. The other is for you to stop being so insensitive and relay our needs to the waiter, word for word, in a timely manner." Boy stared at his companions in amazement. "I had no idea," he stammered. Do you want me to order anything?"
"Yes," Robin purred, "have the waiter bring me that knife and another roll."
"You might be interested in how women are thought of in this country," Samantha said, taking a travel brochure from her purse. She thumbed through the pages, then pointed to a paragraph which she read aloud.
"Young women should not travel alone. If forced to do so, they should seek the company of other gentle ladies."
"All right," insisted Boy. "From now on, I promise I will be in touch with my sensitive side." He put on his most appealing puppy dog look in the hope of being forgiven.
"All right, Boy," Cat assured him. "We’re going to be ordering dessert and espresso in a few minutes, so you’d damn well better be paying attention."