by Mingmei Yip
I knew it was foolish to climb down, but my curiosity overcame me and, despite all the strange experiences of the last few days, nothing bad had happened. In the back of my mind was the idea that the cave might be the home or studio of the old sculptor.
Gingerly I climbed down. When I reached level ground, it was quite dim, illuminated only by the light above. I could see large slabs of rocks arranged as chairs and table, but I couldn’t walk far because it would be completely dark.
“Old señor, are you here?” I called out.
Silence.
I swung my flashlight around. Besides the table and chairs there was a large slab of stone on which was placed a thin mattress, blankets, and pillows. In an alcove was a stove with a propane tank, a stack of dishes, and cooking utensils. On a rickety wooden table were candles, piles of clothes, and a well-thumbed book. I shined my light on the book and could read “Herbs and Decoctions” on the cover. Was the old sculptor also an herbalist? Maybe he wanted to concoct his own elixir of immortality. I hoped so, for then he could sculpt even more of his beguiling figures. I took out my camera, turned on the flash, and snapped everything I could see.
“Anyone here?” I called again. “Old señor, it’s me, the woman who bought your statues!”
My call was answered only by eerie echoes. I was beginning to feel very nervous, wondering who really lived in this place. I sensed a strange vibration—perhaps from the other realm—and decided it was time to leave. Just as I was about to head toward the ladder, I heard footsteps clambering down. Immediately I turned off my light and hid behind a boulder. When I saw their faces, I had to press my hand across my mouth to stop myself from screaming.
It was Cecily and the other three witches!
Once they alighted, they went over to the table and lit the candles. The space was immediately filled with flickering light, casting shadows across the wall like wandering ghosts. The four women sprawled on the rock seats, talking and laughing, while Cecily went to the stove, turning the valve to light it and producing a swoosh sound. She had brought a sack down the ladder with her and from it she produced some meat, carrots, and onions. With deft movements she sliced the meat, cut the vegetables, sprinkled them with herbs, and threw it all into a big metal pot.
Minutes later the space was filled with a mouthwatering aroma. After pushing away the blankets and pillows, the witches put plates, bowls, glasses, and condiments on the big slab of stone now used as a table. Soon they were eating and drinking ravenously as I watched and salivated. My stomach rumbled and I feared it would give me away, but they were too absorbed in their repast to hear.
I knew I couldn’t possibly hide behind the boulder forever, so I gathered up my courage and walked out to show myself.
“Hello, everyone, sorry to intrude. . . .”
Cecily used her knife to point at me. “Who’s this?”
“Please put your knife down. You know me—we’ve met twice.”
Finally recognizing me, they seemed to relax.
“All right,” Cecily said, and smiled, “you are welcome in my humble home, even though you are uninvited.” She pointed to a stone chair. “I remember you danced with us. Now have a seat and eat.”
The three other women shifted to make room for me.
“Maybe we should now properly introduce ourselves. You know I’m Cecily,” said the head witch. Then she pointed to the fortyish, big-boned woman next to her. “This is Lucia. And the tall ones are Mimi and her twin, Angie.”
“Glad to meet you all. I’m Eileen Chen.” I could tell my voice sounded stiff and nervous.
“Relax, Eileen, no one will harm you here. We only do healing and magic,” Cecily said.
“What about casting spells?” I asked.
“Of course, that too.”
I looked around, then asked, “Cecily, you really live here—underground?”
She cast me a condescending glance. “That’s part of the tradition of witches. Do you know about the ancient Black School?”
I shook my head.
“They chose to live underground and I like the idea.”
I doubted this was the real reason she lived underground, but it wasn’t the time to ask her.
Mimi and Angie continued to gape at me as if I’d just landed on earth from outer space. Our hostess poured me a glass of red wine, picked up a plate, and plopped a piece of meat onto it.
“Eat,” Cecily ordered, sounding just like all Chinese mothers and grandmothers.
With a rumbling stomach and no hesitation, I began to gulp my wine and shovel the meat and vegetables into my mouth.
“Are you Japanese?” Lucia asked, lifting beans into her red-painted mouth.
“No, I’m Chinese.”
“So you’re a Chinese witch here to dance and dine with us. What an honor!” said Lucia.
“Why did you say that I’m a witch?”
She smiled. “My horoscope said I’ll have a witch visit from the East, and here you are.”
I asked no one in particular, “Are you all witches?”
This time Cecily answered. “Yes, but there’s no need to be afraid.”
But I was afraid, remembering how they had drugged me the last time we met. Cecily cast me a mischievous glance, then refilled my glass. “Relax, my friend, and have more wine.”
I took another sip and then immediately regretted it. Would I be drugged again?
As if reading my mind, Cecily said, “Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned. Our concoctions are only to heal.”
“So you do healing?”
“Of course. What do you think witches do? As I said, we heal, cast spells, tell fortunes, connect with nature. We celebrate life . . . and of course death as well, the other side of the coin.” She downed more wine, then added, “We’re women of power and we’ll make you one too.”
Women of power! But stuck living underground like homeless people?
“How do you make your living?” I asked.
Cecily flung her head back and laughed. “What a question! I’m not a homeless beggar, if that’s what you think. I chose to have my home here, because it’s close to nature.”
“Really?”
“My home is rooted in the ground and hidden from intruders by shrubs, not suspended in midair like those hideous glass and concrete skyscrapers! I am a free woman and I help others to be free.”
“Who are your customers?”
“They’re all over. We travel for house calls.”
“Do you have a phone here?” I cast a suspicious glance around the place.
She laughed again. “Ha! Those who need me can find me. Anyway, Lucia, Angie, and Mimi all have their own places and phones, so sometimes they book appointments for me. And people meet us at the Witches’ Market where we sell the stuff that we make.”
I felt more and more intrigued by these self-proclaimed witches.
Soon we finished eating and plates, knives, and forks were moved away and washed in a small bucket. Despite my curiosity, I thought I should leave while there was still some light outside.
I stood up, and said to the women, “Thanks for the delicious food. I should leave.”
“No, you’re not going anywhere,” Cecily said, her face serious.
“What?” I asked, and my heart started to pound.
“Yes, stay with us,” Angie and Mimi both chimed in high-pitched tones.
“Since you came uninvited into my place, you should join us for our ritual,” their boss added.
She ignored my protests and went on to light more candles, arranging them in a circle. Lucia, Angie, and Mimi spread out dishes of herbs, a bowl of water, a plate of salt, then placed a thick candle in the middle. Then the two twins grabbed my hands and pulled me into the circle. I was too scared to try to escape.
Cecily lit incense and led us first in whispered prayers and then silent meditation. Ten minutes later, she announced in a resonant voice, quite different from her usual tone, “Now I’ll call upon Baal, Belial, Astaroth,
Orias . . . and all the spirits of earth and sky and the four elements to sanctify this circle of light.”
She dissolved salt into the water and sprinkled it inside the circle. Next she picked up the candle and called on fire. Then she shook a small bell to call on metal.
After the rather ominous-sounding invocation, the four women began to chant some unintelligible words and danced around as if controlled by some unseen force—a good or evil force I couldn’t be sure of, but I was drawn into its vibrations and found my legs and arms swaying as I joined their dance.
I don’t know how much time passed before the witches slowed down and we all seemed to come out of our collective trance. Cecily motioned for us to sit and called us to another silent meditation.
When finished, wiping sweat from my forehead, I asked, “What is this ritual for?”
“Purification and illumination.”
That didn’t really explain anything, but at least I was still conscious, so they hadn’t drugged my wine or cast a spell on me.
I realized that it was dark out now and I was worried about finding my way back to the castle, so I thanked Cecily for the food and the dance but told her I had to leave.
“Why not stay with us for a day or two? There is enough space for everyone,” Lucia said.
There was room—but only if everyone was going to sleep on the ground.
“I need to get back.”
“Stay, so we can exchange knowledge,” Cecily said matter-of-factly.
“Knowledge of what?”
“Witchcraft, of course. Where do you live?”
“The Maiden Fortress.” Somehow I didn’t have the heart to use the castle’s other name, fearing that I might divulge some secret tragedy.
Cecily scoffed. “You mean the Heartbreak Castle? I figured. Lucky girl, how do you know the owner?”
I told them what had happened and that Alfredo Alfrenso was still basically a stranger to me.
“He is a stranger to everyone.” Cecily’s statement came as a surprise.
“You know him?’
“Ha, everyone knows him, but he doesn’t know anyone!”
I didn’t know how to respond to this, so I changed the subject. “Why do you live so close to Alfrenso’s castle?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you later. When the time is right.”
I repeated my intention to leave and this time they made no effort to dissuade me but invited me to visit again anytime I wanted.
“Anyway, maybe we’ll see each other at the Witches’ Market. I am sure it is our destiny to meet. You can teach us some of your Chinese witchcraft,” Cecily added.
Both Angie and Mimi chimed in as they waved good-bye. “Yes, teach us Chinese witchcraft!”
The next day I slept restlessly, dreaming of being trapped in a deep, dark hole. I woke up quite late. I wondered if I was turning into a night person. It seemed that I was still tired from the ritual with the witches in Cecily’s underground home. Instead of going to the kitchen for breakfast, I stayed in my room to write down my encounter with the witches while it was still fresh in my mind. Just when I finished writing, there was a quiet knock on the door. I called for Maria to come in.
Once she entered my room, Maria said, “Señor Alfrenso has returned early and will have a big party this evening. He hopes you will join him and his guests at the ball. I didn’t want to wake you before since you were so soundly asleep. But señor says that his guests will be very pleased to meet his beautiful young lady from America.”
“A ball? But I don’t have a decent dress to wear!”
“No worry. We have many dresses here. Come and I will show you.”
I followed the housekeeper down long corridors, past cavernous empty rooms, and around corners until I had no idea where I was. We finally entered a small room that clearly served as a wardrobe. One wall was covered with drawers and shelves, the others had long racks from which hung a multitude of gowns and dresses. Except in a department store, I had never seen such a large assembly of women’s clothes in my life. And in the home of a bachelor. I was already confused by all the twists and turns that had brought us to this section of the castle and began to have a headache.
As I massaged my temples, Maria pulled open a huge closet revealing row upon row of silk evening gowns in a rainbow of colors, trimmed with lace and adorned with beads, pearls, and sequins. Styles varied: sleeveless, off the shoulder, plunging neckline, bare back, bare midriff.
Tucked into cubbyholes were matching accessories such as shawls, handbags, and shoes. There was no jewelry to be seen, which I guessed was because it was locked away somewhere.
Of course I was dying to know whose clothes these were, so I asked Maria, “Did these belong to Señora Alfrenso?”
Maria avoided my question, and instead said, “You can choose whatever you want to wear for the evening.”
The immense collection of clothes made me more eager than ever to find out more about Alfredo’s wife. Hoping to get Maria to tell me more about her master’s wife, I said, “She must have been very beautiful and had many parties to wear all these gowns.”
Maria’s only reply was, “Yes, very beautiful and she loved parties.”
The few days I’d been here, I hadn’t seen any other woman besides Maria. So where was Mrs. Alfrenso? Was she really dead? Or had she tired of her extravagant existence in this non-place and absconded, perhaps to the bright lights of a sophisticated city like Barcelona. I hoped she’d simply escaped, otherwise I would be wearing a dead woman’s dress for her husband’s party. Was I about to play a role in this man’s perverse fantasy involving his absent wife? Suddenly I wanted no part of this strange household, nor the fancy ball at which I would be a guest.
While I was still surveying the dresses, Maria pulled one out and handed it to me. It was rose colored, with white lace trim, a little young for me but still a very pretty dress.
“Señorita Eileen, this one is perfect for you.”
When I looked at it more closely I realized that the neckline plunged a lot lower than I was comfortable with. I never thought of myself as prim, but not as loose either. What would the men at the ball think of me?
Seeing me hesitate, Maria said, “I know all these dresses. Believe me, this one is perfect for you. No need to look more. It’s begging for you to wear it.”
“I’m afraid it’s too long.”
“I can size it quickly.”
“And the shoes are too big.”
This time she laughed. “I’ll just stuff them with a little tissue paper.”
“Can you also sew up two or three inches of the neckline?”
“Don’t worry about that. Please try it on and then I can make alterations.”
Fortunately when I tried on the dress it almost fit. The neckline was low, exposing quite a bit of breast. But the bodice was loose; Señora Alfrenso must have been a busty woman. Maria took me in front of a gilded mirror, put a few pins on the dress’s hem, and then made a few measurements with a tape. After that, she suggested I relax in my room while she worked on the dress.
I spent the afternoon in my room writing notes for my book and napping. At six, Maria reappeared and helped me wash my hair, apply my makeup, and fit myself into the dress. It left my shoulders bare and fit perfectly around my waist, but Maria had not kept her promise to sew up the low-cut neckline, so I stepped into the ballroom with more skin showing than I’d wanted.
9
The Ball
The dust-covered and run-down ballroom had undergone an amazing transformation since I’d first seen it. Help must have been hired to clean and decorate it while I’d been away with the old man and the witches. Now, instead of looking like a gloomy-faced first wife, the room shone and glittered like a beautiful, newly favored concubine!
Small lightbulbs dangled from the high ceiling and perched on walls like glowing vines. High on the ceiling, more lights were blinking against a dark purple background, as if the ballroom were open to the stars.
Elegantly dressed couples were already seated at small, round tables, chatting, sipping wine, and drawing on cigarettes. Two musicians played animatedly, resurrecting the harp and piano that must have lain moribund for months, if not years. Bejeweled women were either talking to tuxedoed men or twirling with them on the polished dance floor to the enticing rhythms. The intoxicating tones of the instruments under the shimmering lights had turned the previously empty chamber into a dreamscape. I felt that I was now living in a fairy tale. Was I to be the princess for whom the prince was searching?
A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne glasses and I helped myself to one. The liquid was sweet, but the bubbles bit at my tongue. I wondered why Alfredo was now hosting this lavish party in his ballroom, which had lain fallow for so many years.
I saw that Alfredo had spotted me and was approaching from across the crowded room. He smiled enigmatically as he surveyed the scene he had created along with his hired help. Suddenly this empty castle seemed to remember its decadent past, one I was curious to know about.
The castle’s owner, imposing in a crimson silk tuxedo jacket, lifted my hand and kissed it, then clinked his glass with mine. “Eileen, you look absolutely gorgeous!”
“Thanks, Alfredo.” I was about to return his compliment by saying, “You look handsome too,” but swallowed my words, lest they be misunderstood.
“Maria told me you spent some time away from the castle—was everything okay?”
I nodded as he extended his hand.
“May I?” he asked.
I noticed that all eyes were on us as the castle owner led his exotic guest onto the dance floor. I felt like I was impersonating his wife by wearing her designer dress and shoes. I started to wonder if it was possible that he’d planned the ball just for me.
My host didn’t say much as we danced, but rather focused on swinging and twirling me with elegantly sensuous movements. As Alfredo pressed me closer against him, I was aware of his subtle cologne. He was aware of me, too, particularly the plunging neckline that Maria had somehow forgotten to fix. Did she intend to aid him in seducing me? It seemed likely. But while I was enjoying dancing in the exotic atmosphere of the ball, I had no wish to share his bed.
