The other men came over one by one to give their condolences, each extremely respectful of the man they had come to call Patrón, including the local priest, who was indebted to Antonio for all he had given to the church. The priest tried to ask Antonio about memorial service arrangements, but Antonio waved him away, beseeching Emilio, "Will you please take care of this for me?"
"Of course I will. You can count on me."
"Thank you. I need to be alone, if you'll excuse me."
"Sí, Patrón. We understand," replied Father Morales.
Antonio walked through his front door in a complete daze. He took the necklace out of his briefcase and clutched it in his hands. "I have been a horrible man," he said aloud, "and this is my punishment—to tell my daughters that their mother is dead."
He sat down on the velvet sofa that faced the bay windows, which looked out on a small, bubbling fountain that tended to attract all sorts of birds, Lydia's favorite place to sit. There were many nights he’d found her there, staring out into the distance, or during the day, reading to her children.
As he lifted one of the pillows from the sofa, smelling it to see if her perfume lingered on them, he discovered a faint whiff of vanilla and rose. Tears began to flow more freely now that the shock was lessening. He slumped down into the sofa, crying in silence. No one dared bother him, except one.
He heard a tiny voice ask, "Papa, why are you crying?" Antonio turned around to see his seven-year-old daughter, Rosa. "What's wrong Papa? Where's Mama?"
His heart felt as if it would collapse upon hearing Rosa’s words. God was punishing him. Not only did he have a son without a father, but now he also had two daughters without a mother. He knew that today was the worst of his life. He sat his oldest daughter on his knee and told her about her mother's death.
*****
Bella was punished for days after the pond incident. Neither she nor Miguel ever told their parents the whole truth about what had taken place. They had made a pact to keep it a secret. With that pact, their friendship was sealed forever.
The worst part of her punishment was that she wasn’t allowed to play with Miguel for an entire week, and had to be supervised by Pedro, her father, or her nanny at all times. She wasn’t allowed to visit the horses, and dessert was out of the question.
As for Miguel, he was sent to his room without being able to open his presents, or to have any food until he went to church and repented for bringing such disgrace upon his mother and their family.
A few days later, while Bella thumbed through her favorite picture book about horses, her father came into her room.
"Hello, Bella.”
Bella wondered why he was dressed in a tuxedo, his hair slicked back. She tried to act uninterested, but she couldn't remember ever seeing her daddy so dressed up. He looked like a prince out of one of her stories.
"Hi, Daddy," she muttered while she kept flipping through her book.
"I'm going out for dinner this evening. Pedro and Maria will be here to look after you."
"Oh." She was dying to know where he was going but she bit her lip, because she had to pretend she was still angry with him for punishing her so harshly.
"Would you like to know who I'm taking to dinner?"
"Uh uh."
"Are you sure? I think it might make you happy."
"Well, fine," she replied, knowing that the only people her papa ever took to dinner were Pedro, sometimes Antonio when he was visiting, and her.
"Miguel's mother, Señora Diaz."
Bella stared blankly at her father. "Oh," was all she could muster.
"I thought you'd be happy about this. I know you and Miguel are such good friends."
"Have a good time, Papa," she responded returning to her book once more.
Bella was so furious, that once her father left, she threw all the stuffed animals off her bed, and then took every single toy out of her chest, tossing them onto the ground nearly breaking off one of her doll's heads. When she was finished, she sat down in the middle of her mess and cried.
It was Pedro who found her. When he walked into her room, he stumbled over one of the toys strewn about. "What happened here?"
"A monster did it."
"What a bad monster. Why did this monster do this?"
"She was mad."
"And why was she so angry?"
"Because her papa went to dinner with a really big lady monster."
"Oh." Pedro tried to stifle a laugh. "Well, I see now. That is horrible."
"Yes, it is," Bella replied, placing her hands on her hips.
"Now, why do you think this lady monster is so bad, and what is your monster so afraid of?"
"See, she has a real nice little boy, and she’s so mean to him. And my monster says if she likes her papa and marries him, then she'll also be mean to her."
"I understand. Why don't you tell your monster not to worry so much. It takes a long time before papas ever decide to marry someone. Besides, they are only having dinner. Speaking of which, yours is ready. Tell your monster she needs to clean up her mess, so that you can come eat. I’ll tell you what, if you help her, I'll let you have dessert tonight."
"What kind of dessert?"
"Your favorite."
"Chocolate cake?"
"Of course."
"Fine. I'll be down in one minute." Bella watched Pedro leave her room. The chocolate cake interested her, but it didn't ease her mind about the matter of her father and Señora Diaz having dinner together.
She was not a stupid child. Although papas could take a long time before they married someone, Señora Diaz liked her father a lot, and Bella knew that her father sorely missed her mother.
“Don’t you worry, Mama, I won’t let her in your house,” she said aloud, “I promise.” Bella finished cleaning her room and headed downstairs to eat, vowing to herself and her mother that she would keep her promise.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The pain in Lydia’s abdomen was intense. She could feel that her panties were damp and the metallic stench from her blood burned her nostrils. Opening her eyes, she found herself shrouded in darkness, sounds of moans and cries surrounded her. In her state of mind, she was unable to determine whether these sounds were even human or not. She curled up into a fetal position, paralyzed with fear. Instinct told her that the life she’d been carrying inside her no longer existed. But she couldn’t understand why. The last thing she remembered doing was driving her car from her doctor's office.
Dr. Martín had congratulated her on the impending birth of her child. She’d smiled gleefully to herself as she left his office, jubilant at the prospect of being with Emilio forever. On her drive home, she’d had car trouble and pulled off to the side of the road. Two men stopped to help her. The next thing she remembered, one of them was putting a gun in her side. She pleaded for their mercy as they forced her into their car.
One of the men was very tall, with narrow eyes and a high-pitched voice. His hair was scraggly and hung in his face. She didn't get as good a glimpse at the other one, because once she was inside the back seat of their white Mercedes, they blindfolded her. But she did remember that the other one exuded a distinct odor of garlic and tequila.
The men laughed at their victim as she fought tooth and nail to escape, even though she knew there was no way out. She must have kicked one of them in the testicles when she was struggling to free her hands, because she heard him cry out in pain before he slapped her. After that, she felt a slight sting in her arm, and instantly everything became hazy. The only things she was able to remember were the sounds of what she thought were wounded animals.
The smell was antiseptic. She distinctly remembered a sharp, horrendous pain in her pelvic region. Trying to scream, she found she could make no sound. They were tearing her baby away from the safety of her womb.
Now she lay in a dark, dismal room, a mental fog blurring her senses. As she faded in and out of consciousness, she began to resign herself to the fact that this was
not a nightmare, but a reality. Antonio must have done these horrible things to her. He must have found out about her affair with his brother and about their baby. She couldn’t imagine him capable of such an atrocity. If he could do this to her, what would he do to Emilio?
Lydia couldn’t help crying over her loss. The baby was gone, and she would probably never see Emilio again. She wanted out of this hellhole. Who was going to save her? She heard a door open, and a crack of light beamed through. Lydia couldn't make out who was inside her room and she started to perspire and shake. She closed her eyes, hoping that whoever it was might think she was asleep and go away.
"Hello, pretty lady. I am pleased that you could join us," the voice said.
In her distorted state, Lydia thought it sounded like a man, but there was a softness that made her believe that it might be a woman. All that she knew for certain was that whoever it was needed a shower badly. She felt the room shrink smaller than it already had been before the person walked in. He or she must have been quite large.
"Oh, my, you're so beautiful," the androgynous voice said as the person stroked Lydia's hair. "You're in pain. Yes, I know. This will make you feel much better."
Before Lydia could protest, she smelled alcohol and felt a prick in one of the veins of her right arm. Whatever it was that was flowing through her body felt chilling at first, before a strangely warm sensation flooded her entire body, beginning with the back of her legs and quickly numbing her pain and senses as if neither had ever existed. Even the emotional trauma she’d endured subsided. The room’s atmosphere lightened and she was calm as if she floated in a warm pool, and her worries became distant. The strange presence left, shutting the door. The sound of echoing laughter resounded in Lydia’s ears, but the laughter didn’t matter. Emilio didn’t matter. Antonio didn’t matter. Nothing did.
*****
The letter came on a Saturday afternoon and Marta tore it open. It was from Antonio. She hadn't been able to shake him from her thoughts since he’d come to see her. It wasn't as if she had ever gotten him out of her mind, but at least she had been able to distance herself from him for all those years.
However, ever since his visit a week ago, she had thought about him constantly. Seeing him had stirred up emotions long since repressed. When he’d asked her to go back to Colombia with him so that they could be together, the temptation was nearly irresistible, but she knew in her heart that it would destroy her self-respect if she were to take another woman's husband. She could never do anything so deceitful.
Marta read the letter. It was horrendous news. Antonio wrote of Lydia's death, and how her body hadn't been recovered. He described his confusion, pain, and guilt. She was devastated to learn that Antonio’s eldest daughter, Rosa, hadn't spoken since her mother's death, and that the little one wouldn't let her father out of her sight. It was clear that Antonio was suffering, and Marta wanted nothing more than to go to him. And he made it clear that he wanted her to come and be with him.
He’d enclosed a check for her airfare. Marta didn't know what to think. The one thing she knew was that Lydia's death changed the situation, even though what hadn’t changed was the pain Antonio had once caused her. And, even though she ached for him, Marta didn't know if she could bring herself to go to him, unsure that she could trust him.
*****
Javier didn’t receive word of Lydia’s death until he’d returned home from yet another dinner with Señora Diaz. Carlotta was quite a woman, a bit eccentric, but she made him laugh and she was so beautiful. She had a Sophia Loren look about her that Javier couldn’t help but be attracted to. Sophia Loren was Javier’s absolute favorite actress. He’d “fallen in love” with her when he and Cynthia had seen one of her movies on their honeymoon in Italy many years ago. They had seen her walking in a piazza in Venice where her movie Black Orchid was being hailed as wonderful and Javier insisted they go to her movie. He’d been enchanted by her and Cynthia had teased him about his crush on the movie star. And now, in Carlotta he saw so much of the Italian beauty that he found himself on occasions when they were out together, fantasizing that Carlotta was indeed the actress. He knew it was insane, but it did feel good to be out laughing with a woman again. He hoped Cynthia understood his need from her place in the Kingdom, but he had honored her memory through celibacy now for six years.
There was one who was not pleased at all about Javier courting Carlotta and that was Bella, but he really couldn't understand why. He thought she would be happy about it. It allowed her to spend more time with her best friend Miguel, who Javier found to be a charming little boy. Bella had expressed quite forcefully more than once that Señora Diaz was not fit to be seen with her father. This made him laugh, hearing his daughter’s opinion on who was fit, or not, to be seen with him.
However, at that moment, there was no time to think about Bella. Once Pedro informed him of Lydia's death, Javier immediately made plans to go to Antonio. The day of Cynthia’s death flashed before his eyes. He told Pedro to pack bags for the three of them. He was hopeful that Bella's presence might be a good distraction for Antonio's daughters. They always played well together.
It was late when the three of them reached Antonio's home. Emilio let them in. He seemed to be almost jovial, probably due to the booze he was drinking. He smiled at them, picking Bella up and swinging her around.
Pedro immediately lifted the sleepy child out of Emilio's arms and muttered, "She's very tired."
"I see. Who's the papa here?" Emilio joked, slapping Javier on the back.
Javier winced and squinted his eyes at him. "Where is Antonio?"
Emilio pointed toward the living room. "I can take her and put her in the girls' room, since she's so tired."
"No, thank you," Pedro answered. "You can tell me the way."
"Go down that hall and turn left. It's the second room on the right."
"Thank you," Pedro murmured, holding Bella protectively.
"Thank you, Pedro," Javier said.
"No problem."
As Pedro carried Bella to bed, Emilio walked into the bar to pour himself another drink. Javier went into the living room, where he found Antonio seated on the sofa, his head down.
Javier sat down quietly next to him, taking hold of his hand in silence. No words were going to ease Antonio’s pain.
After a few moments, Antonio said, "My baby won't speak. Rosa says nothing. She will speak to no one."
"In time, my friend. Give her time."
"I'm so worried about her. She loved her mother so much.”
"She's in a great deal of pain. She will speak once again, once the pain eases. How are you holding up?"
"I'm doing what I can. It’s my little girls I'm concerned about more than anyone. None of this seems real to me yet. It's like a bad dream. I can't believe she's actually gone."
"I understand."
"I know you do."
"I have come to be with you, Antonio, to help in any way that I can."
"Thank you."
"I brought Bella with me. Maybe she can get Rosa to talk."
"I hope so, Dear God, I hope so."
****
Rosa was awake when Pedro put Bella down next to her. He smiled at Rosa, and she closed her eyes. Usually she would be happy to see Bella. They had played together so often. But she didn't feel like seeing, playing, or talking to anyone. She was angry at the world and at God. How could He take her beautiful mother away from her? She vowed never to speak again until God brought her mama back home. Rosa couldn't believe she was dead. She wished that she were dead, too.
Bella reached over and patted Rosa on the head. "Hi," she whispered.
Rosa looked at her.
"I'm sorry about your mama."
Tears welled up in Rosa's eyes.
"I'll tell you a secret about what happens to mommies when they go to Heaven. If you close your eyes for a long time and you think about her, she'll come and talk to you. She'll probably be dressed in white and look real pretty
. At least, that's always what my mommy looks like." Bella smiled at Rosa. "Trust me. I promise that it's the truth."
For the first time since before her mother’s death a few days earlier, Rosa smiled and closed her eyes. She tried and tried to see her mother, but it would not happen. She didn't come to her as Bella said she would. Rosa could not understand why.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Lydia had finally figured out what was happening to her. She discovered that the obese creature who occasionally visited her was actually a transvestite who injected all sorts of drugs into Lydia’s bloodstream.
Far worse than the abuse her body felt from the effect of the drugs, was what happened as she lay on her back, stoned, semi-conscious, when the smelly, hideous man repeatedly plunged himself deep inside her numb body, until he finally ejaculated and climbed off. His repulsive breath stank of beer and cigarettes, and he laughed at her while he zipped up his trousers. Most monstrous of all was the awareness that she couldn't feel much of anything, nor did she care. The loss of her baby, combined with the continuous injections, left her lethargic, drifting, and oblivious to her surroundings.
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