by Rita Lakin
We move from one parapet to another, looking through the large openings that used to contain cannons. The water views are gorgeous. We can even see our cruise ship waiting for us in the harbor.
But what is most awesome is the drop from these openings down to the roiling seas.
Ida won’t go anywhere near the edge of any of them. The view gives her vertigo. The adventurous Bella and Sophie do so, but take turns by holding on to one another’s sleeves. Evvie and I keep a respectful distance.
Bella and Sophie are impatient. We only have a little bit of time to shop.
Ida agrees. She saw a children’s shop where she wants to find something for her grandchildren. No one comments that her ungrateful children won’t appreciate it.
“Well,” says Evvie, “there’s actually a Walgreens. I need some moisturizer.”
“And a Ben and Jerry’s,” Sophie adds eagerly.
I shrug. I might as well go to that tempting bookstore I passed earlier.
“I think I’ll stay,” Amy says. “I want another look around, and maybe go back to the fort’s gift shop. I didn’t get much time to visit last trip.”
With much pointing at our individual maps, we decide to separate, and with many reminders, we agree to meet back at the ship a half hour before the time we’re supposed to be there, which is three o’clock sharp.
As we head down the long hill toward the center, I tell them once more, “Do not be late!”
“Yeah, yeah!”
That doesn’t encourage me. I will worry until I see every one of their silver hairs.
I wave to Amy, who also waves as she heads back into the fort.
I am the first to return to the ship, and I listen to the sounds of the charming band concert going on in the little park a few feet away. There are many palm trees, and the listeners relax in their shade while children play in the grass. So peaceful, so pretty. Passengers move past me to board the ship, smiling at the musicians as they go by. I look at my watch. Two-forty.
One by one the girls meander back with their loot. Thank God, they are all here. We start to walk inside, our shore passes in our hands.
“Wait a minute,” I ask, “where’s Amy?” We turn and stare back down the tree-lined pathway leading to the ship. I see a couple of stragglers hurrying.
But it turns out I was right to worry, because I don’t see Amy.
34
But Not Going Aboard
Maybe you’re worrying for nothing,” Sophie says. “She still has four minutes.”
“She would have been here on time. I just feel it in my bones that something’s wrong.” Despite my promise to myself, I can’t ignore these instincts.
We are standing about six inches away from the gangplank and a few stragglers are hurrying past us. A large man pushes Ida aside in his hurry. She instinctively swats his back, but he doesn’t stop. We also spot the MC from the huge after-dinner shows, and Greg and Polly, the couple from Green Bay, Wisconsin. I know the girls are torn. They want to get on the ship, but they don’t want to leave me.
“We are pulling up in three minutes,” one of the nearby sailors informs us in a tightly controlled voice.
“We have to wait,” I say.
By now, other crew members have gathered. Passengers on the upper decks are looking down at us, sensing the anxiety in the air.
I look frantically in all directions for some sight of Amy, but no luck.
“We have rules—” begins the same sailor.
“I don’t want to hear the rules.” It’s hot, with no breeze. I’m sweating. From the heat or from worry, I’m not sure.
I can see one of the crewmen on the phone speaking rapidly to someone, probably the captain.
“Madam,” the mate, or whatever he’s called, says, “if she does not get here on time, your friend will just have to manage on her own. She can always take a plane home.”
“May I?” asks another sailor, a kinder one. “After we leave, we will call the shore police and have them look for your friend.”
I do not want to hear this. “And I’m telling you there is no way she’d miss this ship unless something happened to her.”
“She would never,” Evvie adds, trying to help.
Ida says frantically, “Look, there are others coming.”
I turn quickly, hoping.
“Hey,” calls Judy, “it’s the Fort Lauderdale gang. Wassup?”
I can’t believe it. Here come the Bingo Dolls, strolling as if they had all the time in the world.
Judy pokes Rose. “I told you your watch was slow!”
“It’s never wrong,” says Rose. She looks at her watch. “It’s two forty-five.”
Judy pokes her again. “That’s what you said fifteen minutes ago.”
“It’s exactly three o’clock right now,” Evvie tells her.
“Oops,” says Rose sheepishly.
The sailors urge them along. “This is final call, ladies. Please step up.”
The Dolls walk up the gangway quickly, taking out their passes as they do. They look back at us. “Aren’t you coming?”
“We’re expecting a friend and she’s not here yet,” says Bella.
“They have to wait for her,” Judy assures us. “We’re paying customers.”
“We tried that. They won’t.” Bella is near tears. “Not for one person.”
“Hey, hold on! I’m coming!” yells a voice down the path. We turn again, and I hear Bella sigh, “Ooooh.”
And Sophie adds, “It’s dreamboat!”
“Roberto. Our cha-cha teacher!” Bella croons.
As he gets closer I can see that the object of their ardor really is gorgeous. Fortyish. Wearing a big Mexican sombrero and some sort of early western outfit. Sunglasses that make him look even sexier. A smile that dazzles. A face that could launch this ship and the proverbial other thousand. He looks at Bella and Sophie, puzzled. “Something going on, pretty ladies?”
They melt. Each of them grabs an arm. “We’re waiting for our friend and she hasn’t come back.”
Bella adds, “They’re gonna lock her out. Help us.”
Sophie quickly introduces Roberto around.
Need I say all the women are agog?
I think cynically, I suppose if a man’s in charge…But any port in a storm, I joke to myself. Let him handle it.
But even Roberto can’t move immovable objects. He shrugs. “Listen, the ship doesn’t actually pull out until four. You can watch from above until she arrives.”
Evvie answers him. “They made it very clear, once past three they don’t let anyone else on board.”
“Believe me, they’ll have to let her aboard. They’ll be annoyed, but they will.”
“Okay. That’s it. We’ve been very patient.” The sailor is losing his cool. “Now!”
Ida and Evvie scurry up the gangplank, as Sophie and Bella, still clutching Roberto, hurry behind them.
“Glad!” Evvie says. “Come on.”
All of the crew is now at the top of the gangway ready to pull it in or up or whatever it is they do.
I step farther back away from the ship. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.
I cross my arms. “Then you leave with two people on shore. I am going to find her.”
“Oh, my God!” says Rose. “She’s jumping ship.”
Nobody moves for a moment. Nobody speaks.
Then my stalwart sister, Evvie, runs back down and stands next to me, imitating my posture. “Make that three.”
Ida, quick on the take, doesn’t wait a second. She’s out, too. “How about four?”
Sophie and Bella tug at Roberto. “Please,” says Sophie, “you gotta help us.”
“But I’ll lose my job…”
“You just gotta,” pleads Sophie.
“If it was your mother?” Bella begs.
Neither woman will let go of his arms. “How can I say no?” he says, leading them out past the startled crew. “I can never resist a pretty face, let alone
two pretty faces.”
I expect them to swoon. But at least we have someone young on our side. I’m beginning to see that as a distinct advantage. Maybe now they’ll stop taking us old ladies for granted.
The Bingo Dolls look at one another. They don’t need words. They’re down in a flash. One of the crew tries to grab at them, but misses.
“Wait for us!” Greg and Polly, the Wisconsin couple, exchange glances and hurry down to join us. Today they’re wearing green Packers tank tops and matching shorts and socks.
Now we are standing there, eight women, one male football fan, and one Roberto, whose adoring dance students grin lopsidedly up at him.
“Hot damn,” says Rose. “This is more exciting than winning at bingo.”
“Not quite,” says Judy, who obviously lives for her game.
For once the crew is dumbfounded. This has never happened before. Old ladies not obeying their orders.
I take out the receipt I have from Spanglish and write a quick note on the back. To the astonishment of my fellow deserters, I run back and throw the piece of paper at the sailors.
As I turn, I call out, “Phone those numbers. One’s my boyfriend, an ex-cop, and the other is my possible future son-in-law—he’s still a cop. They’ll vouch for me. Tell them the Gladdy Gold Detective Agency is on the job!”
I hear applause from the upper decks and shouts of “bravo” from the bandstand area. But it’s not for the band, it’s for Los Desperados. Or is it Las Desperadas? Plus dos hombres.
35
The Search
We are at the cab stand. There is only one taxi available and a trolley pulling up to its stop directly across from where we are standing.
I bark out orders. “Roberto, you, Sophie, Bella, and Ida, grab the cab. Get up to the fort fast. Look for Amy along the way, just in case she’s trying to get back to the ship.”
“OK,” Roberto says. “Here’s my cell phone number. We’ll be able to stay in contact that way.” He writes it down on a slip of paper and looks expectantly toward me.
Bella glances at me dolefully as she pokes me in the ribs. “Gladdy hates progress. We don’t have a cell phone.” I am dismayed and annoyed at the same time for this public betrayal. However, I do make up my mind right now what the next item is that our little business will buy.
“But I do,” says Rose, as she writes down the number in lipstick and hands it to Roberto.
With that, their foursome piles into the cab.
“Let’s get the show on the road,” says Evvie, running across the way and climbing up into a nearly empty trolley.
“We’ll meet somewhere in the fort,” I call after the cab. “Don’t wait for us. Start searching.” I climb in the trolley after Evvie. The rest of my rescue crew is hot on my heels.
I make an announcement to driver and passengers. “This is an emergency. We need to get to the fort immediately. Please, folks, if you want to take the regular route, would you kindly wait for another trolley?”
Nobody moves. There’s grumbling, but no movement.
“Por favor,” the driver says with a thick Spanish accent, “perhaps I say no.”
Now all my girls are talking at once. Lost friend. Might be hurt. Missed the ship. Have to find her. Please help us. Matter of life and death.
A couple of the meeker passengers, sensing unwanted trouble, hurriedly jump off. A few stay, either indecisive or curious.
“No,” the driver insists, “you want Calle Norzagaray.”
“No,” I insist back at him. “There’s no other trolley and no other cab. We’re here now and we need your help.”
A voice behind me says, “Hey, señor, help the ladies out.” It’s my Packer, Greg, looking large and menacing. “Just drive straight through to that there fort.”
“Yeah,” agrees Polly. “We’ll never tell.”
Now we have a chorus of other tourists egging him on.
The driver says something under his breath, which I am thankful I can’t translate, and he starts driving up a street named San Justo. If that means justice, I feel it’s a good sign.
I know now that it really isn’t far, it’s just that it’s uphill all the way.
As the trolley driver chugs along, clanging his bell to get people out of his way, we look from one side of the street to another hoping to spot Amy.
The Dolls help console our tourists by calling out places of interest so they won’t miss anything.
Evvie says, after a while, “So, Dolls, how often do you win back in Tuscon?”
“A lot,” Judy says.
“Yeah, she’s real lucky,” Rose offers.
With a heavy bump that practically knocks us off our seats, the bus jolts to a stop.
“El Morro.” The driver swings open the door, eager to be rid of us.
I’m rustling around in my purse to find money for a tip, but Rose says, “Let me. After all, I won yesterday.”
She offers the driver a ten-dollar bill. “Gracias for helping us.”
The driver waves the money away. “No es necesario, señoras. Vaya con Dios. Find your friend in good health.”
We thank him profusely and get off.
Behind us I hear Greg tell his wife, “Let’s hit the road, Polly.”
Obviously Roberto and the girls have alerted the guards at the entrance gate. They’re expecting us. “Looking for your friend? Go right through.”
Evvie and I, the Dolls, and the Packer couple hurry through the gate.
“Spread out,” I say. “Yell as loud as you can if you find her. Rose, please stick with me with your phone.”
And we take off, calling out Amy’s name. Judy and Evvie head down the ancient steps. Rose and I climb up to the top level of the fort. Greg and Polly turn left. I see Roberto and my girls at the very far end. I am overwhelmed once again at the size and scope of this massive stone fortress. Quickly, I realize that this level is wide open and we would see Amy easily. If she were here.
As we look down from parapet to parapet, my heart is in my mouth. Where could Amy be? I can still see our cruise ship in the distance. It hasn’t left port.
It’s not more than ten minutes or so before I hear Ida scream, the fearful sound resonating against these walls that have seen so much pain. At the same time, Rose’s phone rings.
“They found her,” Rose says, her voice apprehensive.
Everyone seems to be yelling now as searchers and tourists converge from the lower areas. We run the long length of this level to where I see people peering over the gun turret ledges.
Sophie and Bella are clinging tightly to one another. Ida is leaning against a wall, her hand over her mouth. Roberto is standing, staring down toward the sea.
I run to him, my heart pounding. He says, “You don’t want to see this. It’s bad.”
But I must. Holding tightly to the stone sides, I peer down and see Amy sprawled across patches of shrubbery, hanging about ten feet from the rocky beach below. She is not moving.
I am in shock. Roberto shakes me. “Listen. I’m running back to the ship to get help. I’m a fast runner. I’ll be back soon. Do you hear me?”
Numbly, I nod and he is off.
Evvie shouts, “Forget the trolley, find a cab.”
Sophie and Bella shout encouragement at him.
He throws promises back at them. “I can do it faster myself. I’ll run like the wind.”
I call after him. “Tell them at the gate.”
Stunned at the realization of what is happening, I am filled with guilt. Why didn’t I take Amy’s story about being followed seriously? What happened here? Did she fall? Did she jump? I feel icy cold. Did someone push her?
Jack. Why aren’t you here? I don’t know what to do. I need you. I need your advice. I need your strength.
36
Rescue
There is nothing for us to do but keep out of the way while the rescuers do their job. At least it’s still light and they are able to see. Has it only been an hour or so since
we discovered that battered body, lying facedown, so far below us?
Men from the ship are standing by with some sort of stretcher-pulley, preparing to send it down to get Amy. The ship’s doctor is waiting to examine her as soon as she’s brought up. The San Juan police are here and an ambulance is outside the front gate. Everyone is breathlessly waiting to hear from the climber, a local firefighter. Armed with ropes, he is scaling his tortuous way down the sheer face of the cliff.
There is a groaning sound, a fearful one.
What is it? Evvie runs in closer to find out. I cannot move. My legs are jelly. What’s taking her so long? Finally she’s back.
“He’s reached the shrubbery where she is. For a moment they were afraid it wouldn’t hold his weight. But it’s OK.”
I can’t stand it. I have to get closer. I force my weak legs to move. And naturally, everyone else follows me.
I nudge one of the sailors. “What happening?”
“She’s alive. She’s even conscious. We couldn’t tell from up here because she didn’t dare move. If she had dislodged herself, she might have fallen down onto the rocks and beach.”
Now the girls and I grab one another, hugging, tearful. Thank you, God. She’s alive! The word spreads. The onlookers react happily. Tragedy has been avoided.
How extraordinary life is. Only yesterday this woman was unknown to me, a stranger. Today, her safety brings me to overwhelming emotion. She will forever be important to me.
If I had only been able to save him, I think. Don’t go there, I tell myself. This is not the time to think about my husband.
There is much commotion. The crewmen are preparing to send down the pulley. Knowing that Amy’s alive has given momentum to their actions.
The hell with being afraid of heights. We all run to the nearest openings in the wall. We can see Amy, her hands tightly clutching the roots of the shrubs. The climber whispers to her and she lets go. We watch breathlessly as he carefully shifts her.
I can’t help it. I yell, “Amy! Amy!”
She actually turns her head up toward me and gives us a weak smile.
Brave lady. All this time, she must have been so frightened.
