The Mexican Affair-- Part 2
Sabine scrambled to her feet and ran for the back door. She flung it open, and was momentarily blinded in dazzling sunlight, except for a flash of red. Once more her arm was grabbed and she was pushed through the side door of a twenty-foot annex. The heavy wooden door slammed shut with a dull crunch behind her and she came face-to-face with a strikingly beautiful young woman.
"Quickly, ma cherie!" The willowy, raven-haired vision with full pouting lips and dramatic eyes, Ifdragged her into a toilet block.
There the two women stood trembling together behind a nearly-closed door. The woman put her finger to her lips and held her arm protectively across Sabine's body. She left the door slightly ajar.
Shouting and footsteps entered the room and Sabine's hand sought her companion's arm. They made no sound, but her frightened eyes took in the other woman's appearance. Despite fear in her face, the stranger stood defiant, curvy, tall, with shapely bronze-skinned shoulders brazenly exposed from the cutaway bodice of her clinging, red satin dress. Framed by black hair coiled into a sophisticated chignon, her beautiful face was the most striking. Long curling eyelashes were heavily mascara-coated, and the shimmering blackeyes were enlarged with jet black eyeliner which curved upwards at the corners.
Forty-five minutes later, retreating footsteps told the two young females their visitors had left. They had endured shouting, cursing, and random shooting, not knowing in which direction it was aimed.
Cautiously, they ventured out into the smoky interior. Ice coated Sabine's back, despite the intense clammy heat.
"I am Sabine."
"Yes, Cherie, I know who you are. My name is Gabriella. I am your sister."
Sabine drew in her breath sharply. "Your…sister? My God, you are so…beautiful, so…young and beautiful…Juanito?? He's your father?"
"Yes of course…you are my sister, my half sister."
Then Gabriella smiled, "And sister, I am not so young you know. I am fifteen years old now."
Sabine gasped for the second time, "Oh, fifteen! But you look so much more… More… worldly. You look… older."
"Oh, I know. It is the truth." Gabriella pouted her full, dazzling red lips. "My father says it too."
They had not heard his approach, but swiftly Juanito entered by the side door. He closed it behind him, breathing heavily, "Dios Mio! You are safe!" Sabine watched as he fell upon Gabriella, hugging her and kissing her hair.
Gabriella threaded her arm through his. "Papá, you see we are safe. We are not bebés. We are just as tough as you. Did not your Nina do the job well? We are very brave, my padre."
Juanito held Sabine's arms tightly, "You were strong Sabine, good!"
"But why, why?? What does it mean, Juanito?? Is it Lobos Frios?"
"Never mind, don't worry... It goes back to the past, a long way, Sabine. Our problems...maybe just starting."
"But the police...?"
Once again she heard the derisive laugh, "They know the police, Cherie, and they have deep pockets."
Before Sabine could speak again, Gabriella broke in, "Papá, we beat them! They have gone! You see I have met your French daughter from America. Such a strange thing… Why do you have a French daughter Papá? You told me she was coming, and I believe you now. We are going to be friends Papá. Did you know we are sisters? Yes, we are half sisters. Mamá told me."
JuanIto appeared to ignore her. "Come quickly." He said holding out his arms and ushering them towards the far end of the building.
With questions hammering in her head, Sabine struggled to keep up, dodging boxes and a muddle of hardware in the narrow, dusty warehouse. After leaving the building by an obscure tiny door in the far back of the building, the trio hurried through narrow dirt alleyways. Sabine was surprised when they doubled back, winding between buildings to a non-descript unpainted shack, huddled close to others in a narrow street of dwellings that looked like a row of bedraggled children hustling to get to the front of the line.
But inside was warm with the smell of bubbling chilli. A striking thirty-something female bustled towards them drying her hands on her apron. Juanito ignored the girls and took the ravishing woman in his arms, kissing her hungrily and lavishly.
The woman pushed him away. Sabine took her outstretched hand and smiled back at her greeting, "I am Carla, welcome to our home."
She followed her new-found relatives silently to a wash house, where they all doused their hands and faces before sitting at the table. When she was seated, Sabine realised hunger was indeed one of the feelings gnawing at her stomach. The chilli was delicious, but sating her appetite had to be the least of her concerns.
Juanito shook his head to her question, but she went on hurriedly before he could speak again."Please Juanito. I am frightened for my mother; she is ill; I am desperate."
She had tried to explain the mysterious threat to her mother in California.
She added, "There was a note; It said, 'Your past is here today. You must get the money, or your daughter is dead,' It was signed, Raf."
Hearing the name on the note, Juanito jumped to his feet.
He swore. "Dios mio!" Then he thumped the table repeatedly, mumbling to himself, and cursing in Spanish.
He looked up at Sabine, "He is trying to get at me through you. I have been a fool." And he swore again.
Briefly he glanced around and announced, "I'll be back soon," and he left the house.
The women sank back into their chairs, hardly breathing. They sat thus for a full 5 min.
Sabine's mind was racing but she felt compelled to ask, "Do you think he will help me, Carla?"
"We must pray, Sabine," Carla said.
Then Sabine asked, "Why does he call me Cherie? It is French."
The other women looked up quickly and spoke together, "You have a French name!"
But it was Carla who continued, "He is like that, my husband, he calls all his women, 'Cherie.' He says it is because of his French lover, many years ago.
And my Juanito," she smiled and cast her eyes down as she added, "He says your mother is French."
At that Sabine's face lit up. "Aah, my mother is French-Canadian. She spoke French and English when she was growing up. But after her trip to Mexico..." Embarrassed, she looked away from the watching faces, "She returned to California, and married. I was born there."
"You didn't know what we were saying?" Gabriella asked.
"Oh, yes, of course… I do speak some French, but my language is English."
After that, the women conversed more freely, and by the time Juanito returned, they had almost finished the domestic chores of cleaning the dishes.
"Sabine," Junito confided privately an hour later, "I'm sorry... Things I have done... In the past... Maybe they are not clever things. But you must believe me, I have never murdered anyone. This Raf... The one in the note you said... He is a murderer... Bad man! Some of my deeds have been…" He waved his outstretched fingers from side to side. "Mmm… Questionable. But Sabine, you are my blood; It is my duty, and like my Carla, you must trust me. This thing, this evil man… It is not your fault. It is mine. And I must fix... everything. You must stay here for... maybe two weeks... When I come back...poof!" His two hands opened in the air, "Our little problem...gone."
Sabine whispered, "Your club? All that killing? Was it...?
"Yes, yes. He is warning me, letting me know... But it is money he wants, I am sure"
"Oh, Juanito, I'm so sorry all this has happened. Will you be safe?"
"Ah, ma Cherie, I know this man. I know his head." Juanito replied, tapping the side of his head with his fingers.
Within the hour he was gone, but not before Sabine observed his passionate farewell to Carla and their daughter.
"I hope we can be friends," Sabine commented to Gabriella soon after Juanito's departure. Gabriella waved her hand, dismissing the subject."Tomorrow, I'll show you the city, my sister."
But the look on Carla's face made Sabine wonder.
She slept little in the tiny cot, haunted by the turmoil of her visit to the club. A cock crowed, before she closed her eyes in sound sleep, only to be woken harshly by crashing plates and loud voices. Sabine jumped out of bed, snatching a colourful blanket and holding it in front of her as she cowered in the corner of the little bedroom.
Then it became obvious the voices were those of her female hosts. Carla seemed to be making an effort to calm and quieten her daughter, and the contrast between outraged shouting and whispered pleading was magnified. Again the unintelligible shouts were punctuated by crashing plates.
Sabine ventured a look around the door, but retreated hastily to her bed when Gabriella flounced in her direction. She entered the room, muttering in Spanish, and threw herself onto the makeshift bed on the floor. She was dressed in a skin-tight, bright yellow singlet top with a plunging neckline, and her skirt, though full at the bottom, dipped below her navel and clung to her hips.
--0--
As days passed, Sabine found herself playing peacemaker. She enjoyed discussions with Carla, but soon realised it had to be tempered with quiet conversational indulgences with Gabriella.They fell into a comfortable routine, and slowly, a fond closeness developed amongst all three.
Towards the end of the second week though, Carla sounded impatient to Sabine when she answered, "As I said before Sabine, we all must wait for God to answer our prayers."
And tears threatened after one too many brittle responses from Gabriella. Then, quite suddenly, their waiting was over.
A cacophony of Spanish filled the little house as the Costanzos family reunited.
Later Juanito came to Sabine. "For a young woman, you are looking very sad, Sabine."
As he held her at arm's length, she observed his face. The black eyes no longer glittered with derision and mirth. His face was drawn and tired. "Oh Juanito," she started, "I'm so sorry..."
But he cut her off."You were right after all, to come to me," he assured her. "All of us, in this house, and your mother in California... We are safe now. You won't be troubled again."
At the mention of California, tears cascaded and she found her face buried against Juanito's shoulder. The thought of going home to her mother and stepfather was particularly inviting
.
"Tomorrow, I must make preparation to return home," she told him."My place is at home, at home in California with my mother and father.You were right. Juanito, I do not belong here."
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