“That’s Mishael? And where is his cousin, Huram?” Toni asked.
Rifta laughed again. “He no come. Yes, the airplane people say ‘no!’” His face went instantly from merriment to sobriety.
Toni crossed over the seating again and hopped down to the floor. Rifta and the luggage piled above her. It was her turn to chuckle. She said, “Is this all your luggage?”
Rifta said, “It was lost, no? But it comes soon. It will all be here, no?”
Toni realized that Rifta had seen her D’Almata marked paper and had brought the luggage to her but when she moved, he began moving the pile as well to her new local while adding the arriving pieces to it. Some baggage was lost or delayed. She realized even this amount was too much for a rental car; a van, yes but even a large rental car, no.
Toni thought about calling Jan Holmes again or even Celina Nelson. After a minute, she said to Rifta, “Pick out two pieces that Mishael will use for a few days travel and you pick out a few pieces for yourself and cousin, Huram. Six pieces altogether and put them over there.” She pointed to the sleeping prince.
Toni went to the airlines customer service counter. A few minutes later, Rifta came over and stood next to her in line. The rental car driver called again and she told him to circle two times. She asked Rifta for his ticket stubs and sent him back to watch the luggage and Mishael. When it was Toni’s turn, she pointed to the mountain of luggage and explained that it needed to go elsewhere – to the beach house. After 30 minutes of wrangling, the airlines agreed to forward it since Huram had missed his flight and some of the luggage was delayed. The baggage would meet him – all of them at the North Carolina shore by next week.
Toni joined Rifta. He was sitting with his head back, eyes closed and breathing deep. He was asleep.
“Rifta! Mr. Smart Guy. Get up! Its time to go,” she said and she gave his shoulder a firm nudge. He snuffled and opened his eyes.
“Yes, its time to eat?” Rifta said as he stretched.
Toni said, “Well sure. Just as soon as we load your luggage into the car, I’ll take you for dinner.”
Mishael opened his eyes. He was a dark-head, dark-eyed teen with flushed cheeks. His clothes were casual but expensive casual. When he stood, Mishael was taller by an inch and not more than Toni. He had a soft boyish bearing to him. He was neither fat nor flabby, simply pampered, Toni decided.
Toni gave Mishael her best motherly smile and introduced herself. A flicker of shock crossed his features but he showed no other sign of disappointment upon the introduction.
Toni began herding them towards the exit and the curb when Mishael asked about the luggage.
Pointing to the diminishing stack, Toni said, “That fellow is taking it.” Mishael nodded to Rifta and the bodyguard went over and shoved the airline worker aside.
Toni yelled, “Wait, Mr. Smart Guy – Rifta!” She ran over and explained and apologized and apologized again to the offended but unhurt airline employee. She gave him a tip before turning to go. “He’s taking it but not stealing it,” she told Rifta and Mishael.
Once on the curb, an oversized beige Mercedes came to a smooth stop in front of them. Mishael climbed into the back seat and fell asleep. Rifta loaded the minimized luggage into the trunk and climbed in next to Mishael. They were sleeping soundly when Toni switched to the driver seat at the car rental lot downtown.
Toni announced, “Okay guys, you want to go to the ranch and sleep or do you want dinner?” Although it wasn’t yet six in the evening, she was exhausted. She voted silently for the ranch and bed.
Mishael sat up. “We’re terribly hungry. Let’s get dinner. American hamburgers are fine.”
It was decided. Toni took them through the drive-thru. Between the two, they consumed a meal adequate for an entire pee wee football team.
Mishael told Toni that his cousin would be arriving on Monday or Tuesday because his paperwork was not right. Rifta was quiet. After eating, both young men were wide-awake. Mishael was asking about surfing and Toni’s planning. She gave him a vague outline of what their summer would be like. She wondered if it didn’t sound too rigorous for Mishael. From what she could tell, he hadn’t seen much physical exercise during his tour.
It was 8pm when they ascended La Bajada Hill south of the Santa Fe city limits. Mishael and Rifta were hungry again. Now, Toni was hungry too. Dinner at the Nelson’s ranch would mean Toni preparing it and she didn’t want to attempt cooking for a prince just yet. She had never visited the restaurant, Miguel y Miguel but Merry raved about the food being exceptional and Merry was working tonight. Not bothering to tell her mother Toni, that she was a singing waitress, their entrance startled Merry – not to mention Toni’s astonishment when they were seated. The musician at the piano was introducing the next song from the repertoire of Phantom of the Opera and then without further ado Merry started singing. She saw her mother and the two men come in and yet, what could she do but perform? So, she did.
Mishael studied her. His eyes, serious and curious. Toni looked over at Rifta and his face shone. Looking back to Merry, Toni was stunned. Merry was singing a throaty solo and she sounded great. A few minutes later, there was a polite applause and then the dining room clamor increased to the normal restaurant din. Merry came directly to their table.
“Merry, dear – I had no idea!” gushed Toni. “You were wonderful!”
Rifta was nodding vigorously and as if balancing a small smooth marble in his mouth as his accent seemed to Toni, Mishael exclaimed, “Fine! Bravo! Very well, done.”
Merry flashing a radiant smile told them ‘thank you’ followed by Toni introducing her to Mishael and Rifta.
It wasn’t a busy night for Miguel y Miguel but after a few minutes, Merry gave suggestions and then, took their orders and left them.
Rifta was looking around the restaurant but he said to Toni, “Very beautiful girl. Her voice – like a canary.”
Continuing to be astounded, Toni murmured, “Thank you.”
Mishael was tired and said nothing more.
Toni was on the verge of asking Mishael about his cousin when a customer several tables away began raising his voice at his waiter. Toni couldn’t hear what the waiter said in response but he took up the man’s plate and headed for the kitchen. She decided that the customer was inebriated.
Rifta looked at Mishael, and Toni saw Mishael give a negative shake of his head. Rifta didn’t move but stared suspiciously at the drunk although the fellow hadn’t a clue because his back was to them.
Another waiter sang and then, Merry returned with their food.
They were almost finished when Merry passing the drunk’s table on her way back to them, was accosted. The man said something loud but Toni couldn’t understand his slurred words. She did understand his obnoxious behavior when he grabbed Merry’s wrist. Rifta had been eyeing the man since his earlier outburst and as smooth as a cat, Rifta left their table landing at his. Merry was not knocked aside but seemed to be put aside by Rifta and the drunk was lifted from his chair and carted out by the Bosnian. Mystifyingly, there was conspicuously little noise and even the diners were subdued until Rifta returned alone and then several people applauded. Merry had looked after the departing bodyguard and then at her mother, before returning back to the kitchen… to regain her composure.
Rifta gave a toothy smile and slight bow when the patrons applauded him but after sitting again at the dinner table he looked sheepishly at Mishael. Again Mishael shook his head - a “no”.
Rifta shrugged. “Yes, he was security threat, perhaps.”
Curious, Toni said, “He sure was noisy but he didn’t yell when you carted him out.”
“No,” said Rifta. “I don’t let him squeak. I put hand over his mouth.” He demonstrated by covering his own mouth with his hand.
Thinking about the dozens of times that she carried disruptive small children from a church service, Toni said innocuously, “Yes, that is how I do it too.”
Rifta not understanding her
meaning decided Toni must be immensely stronger than her 5’5’’ frame depicted.
Mishael looked at Toni with new regard, concluding his father’s choice of tour guide and surfing coach might be something more than she appeared.
Chapter 9
The view was Big Valley spectacular. Toni stood on the back deck at the Nelson’s place early Tuesday morning. Lori was there helping her mother the housekeeper, Glenda. She was making some tea for Toni, as Toni left home without making a cup. Toni was watching the fog shift about the low land by the gazebo. The ranch was situated in a valley and the morning sun was not over the eastern hillside yet. It was a handsome place… strikingly Southwest. Most of New Mexico is scenic in an earthy geometric way but there are pockets like this along creeks and rivers that reminded Toni of the moist Midwest.
Lori explained that Mishael had gotten up late the day before – extremely late. He had told Glenda that the time difference had thrown them off. Of course, Toni knew this as she had arrived at the ranch in the late afternoon the day before. She talked to Mishael and Rifta over French toast but left them after ten minutes, explaining she would return later.
Sipping her tea, Toni decided she would hang around for a few hours this morning and if they didn’t get up, she would return in the late afternoon again.
The tea was mediocre as it wasn’t her usual Kenyan cup. She put the mug in the kitchen sink and scooped up an apple. No one was around and Toni didn’t want to hunt through the spacious house for Glenda or Lori, so she went off the back deck without saying a word to anyone.
Toni knew that the river trail went all the way into the mountain forest. Following the track to its conclusion, a hiker would end up at the Santa Fe ski basin. As a backdoor to the ski area, the access was impassable in the winter because of snow. Toni wasn’t planning an all day hike but an honest hour or two. She adjusted the bag that Silver Studio’s equipped her with. At twelve pounds it was much heavier than the average purse but agreeably lightweight for a backpack.
The river trail was worn and Toni remembered that the Nelsons kept horses. The path was an ideal bridle trail. She followed it for more than a mile when she came to a waterfall and afterward the mountain pines began in earnest. The trail climbed veering away from the narrowing river. At this point, the main water course was not much more than a burbling creek. Toni went off the path and climbed an outcropping of rocks. There was no view except evergreen carpet, 360 degrees. She was up high and the rocks were in full sun as were the battalion of Ponderosa pine tops. She checked her cell phone. It was almost 10am. Mishael and Rifta were probably not up but they were young and the cousin was due to arrive at anytime. Remembering the apple, Toni pulled it from her pack. She would eat it then head back.
Because distant birds and the woodsy noises filled the air with soft murmuring, she almost missed the sound of approaching hoof beats. The increasing thud-thump was distinctly an approaching horse. A rider came galloping up the pathway below. Toni had a clear view of the trail even if she couldn’t see any horizon but forest at eye level.
Watching from her perch, Toni genuinely doubted that she would be noticed. The man had lots of grey hair on his head but his sunglasses darkened his eyes and his mustache was dark too - almost black. He wore no hat. A dark green shirt and blue-jeans was all Toni saw before he disappeared up the trail and out of sight.
Going down was always faster than pressing up the main trail, especially when jogging. Toni wasn’t much of a runner. She would sprint. Downhill, she often jogged. Today she trotted until the path leveled out beyond the forest. She walked arriving hungry and hot at the Nelson’s land. She sipped from the camelback and then, tossing her shoes up on the gazebo steps, she went barefoot through the sand down to the river. The water was refreshingly cold. Mountain water is always cold. It felt fine. She sat down on a flat dry rock with her feet resting on the pebbles covered by the moving stream.
Toni was famished. The apple was her breakfast and now it was lunchtime. If the guys weren’t up, Toni decided she would connect with Merry or her good friend, Patsy Sena and have some lunch.
The horseback rider returned. The path ran parallel to the river and he came down the same way Toni had. Along the water, the trail was public but it ran through private land, including the Nelson’s until it entered the National Forest.
The squared shouldered, man glanced at Toni, continuing up the trail but piquing Toni’s curiosity he took the path toward the barn. As he was passing the gazebo, he pulled up. Swinging off the horse, he picked up Toni’s shoes.
At this point, Toni rose to stand in the water. Her bag was sitting in the sand some five feet from her and the man had turn himself and the horse around. Long-legged, probably over six foot and lean, he strode back to the river. She went to her bag, rather awkwardly through the water and over the stones in her bare feet. Toni planned to slip her .32 from its holster and tuck it inside the back pocket of her capris but she didn’t have time. Still some 10 feet away, he tossed her shoes on the sandy river bank before her. Standing straight, Toni took her eyes from her bag to look at him, mustering as much dignity as she could although barefoot and her face damp around her hairline from perspiration.
Without emotion, he said, “This is private property.” That is all he said. He turned the splendid Bay around and walked off toward the barn.
Rather anticlimactic...
Toni wanted to say something but she couldn’t think of a single word. The man was a distinguishing 60 years old, she guessed and his appearance and words were so dismissive that Toni felt dismissed! It was the same bushy grey head, and dark eyes – sunglasses with dark eyebrows and dark mustache, both peppered grey, that she had viewed from the rocks.
Toni supposed he was a friend or relative of the Nelson’s. Perhaps, he boarded his horse with them. No one had mentioned this fellow though she wished they had. According to her contract, she was part bodyguard to Mishael. Toni was conscious of the fact that this encounter could have been a disaster.
After returning to the house and finding the young men barely awake, Toni let Glenda know that she would be back in a few hours. They were to leave tomorrow for their road trip east and their plans needed to be finalized.
At two thirty-five, Toni returned. She walked around to the back of the house and came up the deck steps into kitchen. Stepping into the broom closet to throw her emptied water bottle away, she heard a loud male voice echoing from the hallway. “I don’t care if she is a surf coach, as you say! It is against the D’Almata protocol to travel with a woman during your tour… Besides, I don’t like it! I don’t like it! I don’t like it!” They were approaching the kitchen. Toni, standing in the closet doorway hoped the men were passing through on their way to the either the deck or the pool. Moving completely inside, she pulled the door to her until it almost shut.
Now, Mishael was talking. “Hugh, she is old enough to be my mother. According to my father, she is the best. Rifta likes her and I am able to accommodate her.”
They entered the kitchen. Hugh responded, “Rifta is a Bosnian! Bosnians get along with everybody… except another Bosnian.” They laughed.
Mishael said in a serious tone, “He is a good man, Rifta. My father knows how to pick them.”
“Yes, I suppose he does but does he know how to pick women?” Hugh questioned.
Toni peeking through the space in the doorway, saw the men stop at the sliding doors that opened onto the deck. Mishael was wearing a swimming robe. “He picked your mother!” Hugh said with another laugh.
Mortified by her situation, Toni hoped they would go through the doors but they continued to stand with their backs to her.
After a moment, Mishael said, “I want to learn to surf. If not now, when? Our family and our gods have my future planned out to the propitious day that I am to wed and take the throne.”
“Yes, of course… I do understand,” Hugh said. “It is a time of trouble… I cannot emphasize to you how serious the international c
limate has become. It is fraught with disaster.” He concluded his thought in another language and Mishael responded in like manner.
“These next few weeks will be behind us soon enough but the future of D’Almata awaits a knowledgeable and modern leader,” said Hugh in English as he squared his shoulders, clasping his hands behind his back.
Mishael said, “To go beyond our own beloved sphere – beyond the islands and to interact with skilled people whether they be men or women may be important for a leader who is to be both knowledgeable and modern.” Hugh turned from the window and looked at Mishael. Toni could see most of his face and her mouth went dry as she realized belatedly, that Hugh was the horseback rider and also, Mishael’s delayed cousin. She should have recognized the bushy grey hair now tamed by brush or comb, not appearing as boisterous.
“Yes... In the future, when you are traveling without me – you may hire a woman to teach you to deep sea dive or walk on the moon and so on and so forth – but now, no. I want to enjoy myself but I cannot relax if there is a woman standing around waiting for me to say polite nothings to her.”
Mishael responded, “Cousin Huram, I’m sorry if you will not be able to relax and enjoy yourself but you had your Tour-before-Duty almost 40 years ago… now it’s my turn. I say, Toni Merriweather stays.”
Mishael slid the door opened and stepped out on the deck. His cousin followed. As soon as they were out of sight, Toni flew from the closet. She raced through the kitchen and down the hallway, heading for the front door. Instead of rushing out, she stopped to calm herself and to wash her clammy hands in the powder room in the foyer. Glenda was in the hallway as Toni came out.
“Oh, there you are!” Glenda said upon seeing Toni. “Mishael and his cousin, Huram D’Almata are at the pool. Mishael asked me to send you out there when you returned.”
Toni tilted her head, asking, “When did the cousin arrive?”
“Mr. D’Almata took a taxi from the airport. All the way from Albuquerque! Can you imagine? Cost a fortune, I’m sure. Rifta told me he got here after 1am. The Nelsons had called Janice Holmes and she was here to meet him, setting him up in the old place. That is where he has stayed on previous visits.” Glenda explained.
Cynic, Surfer, Saint (Scenic Route to Paradise #1) Page 7
