Men of the Cave (Symbol of Hope Series)

by Burgess, Marisette

  “Buenos Dias Señor Fernando. Buenos Dias señores,” I greeted all the men working in the kitchen.

  “Buenos Dias Dion. Go ahead upstairs, Kasey’s room is the first door on the right,” Fernando said, not even looking up from the parsley he was chopping.

  “Gracias Señor, have a lovely day.” I passed the busy cooks and walked up the stairs.

  Entering their home, I noticed it had not changed since I was there for the wake. I knocked twice on Kasey’s door and heard drawers slamming. The knob on the door turned and broke my contemplation.

  She opened the door and with a brilliant smile and said, “Buenos Dias, come in.”

  Waiting what seemed like centuries for this moment, I returned her smile. I reached my hand delicately, under her ear. She flinched. Her eyes danced. I pressed my lips onto her cheek and said smoothly, “Buenos Dias.” I let go of her and walked into the room.

  “Yeah, that’s something that’s going to take some getting used to.” She flushed. Her cheeks now red contrasted against her pale skin. Her hair dazzled me, so red, so vibrant. It was like a light wavy scarlet scarf that accented the natural green jewels that were her eyes. In seconds, I knew her facial features. Then I studied the rest of her.

  “You’re early,” she said.

  “Actually on time. Would you like for me to wait downstairs and give you more time?”

  The red and black colors of her paisley tank stood out against her pale skin. The shirt stopped above the crescent rim of her breasts, and I could only see a handful of brownish freckles above the shirt line. Her frame was smallish, somewhat petite. I think she caught me observing her because she narrowed her eyes in a disapproving manner. I shifted my gaze to her face.

  “No, that’s fine. I’ll be ready in a sec. I have to pack my bag.” She reached for a small black bag and placed it on the desk. She began stocking it with pens, pencils, and notebooks. Catalina stood at the doorway, peering in. She wore her typical Goth inspired attire.

  “Buenos Dias, Dion,” she said.

  “Hola Catalina, how are you this fine morning?”

  “Okie-Dokie,” she replied, sarcastic.

  “I thought you were going to San Marina with your mother today,” Kasey said.

  I could feel the tension between the two young women.

  “My ride is downstairs.” Catalina ignored Kasey then stormed off. Kasey faced me clearly bothered by the interaction.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  “Always.” I reached out and grabbed her bag with a smile. She returned my grin, which I took as a thank you. As we walked out of the restaurant, she made a face.

  “Don’t tell me your car is the Mini Coop convertible?”

  “Ah, but of course madam. Allow me to give you the ride of your life in this exquisite vehicle.” I impersonated a chauffeur.

  “Oh, okay, sure.” She sat on the white leather. I cleaned the car the night before making sure that all the trash was out and it smelled nice.

  “So why this car?” she asked as I started the auto and began to drive.

  “An automobile is not some piece of machine you merely pick. It is an accessory to a personality.” I felt like educating her on my theories between man and machine.

  “Really,” she said. “Then you know what my next question will be.”

  “I chose the Mini Coop convertible because it has a gentle way. It grooves and moves with the winding roads of Mallorca. It can have unexpected speed and strength. The black and white colors, well, that is simply because there is nothing better than the classic tuxedo look.”

  “Wow, Dion. How James Bond of you.”

  “James Bond?” I did not particularly like the comparison she made. “I hope to think that I am not nearly as self-absorbed as James Bond.”

  “I suppose that’s to be seen,” she said with a hint of intrigue.

  “Well then, what car did you drive in the states?” I asked.

  “An old Saturn.”

  I winced at her. “It does not sound like you had a good relationship.”

  “I guess not, it got me where I needed to go,” Kasey said.

  “Was it at least fire red or emerald green like your features?” I asked.

  “No, it was grey,” she said with a slight grin.

  “Then my theory is obviously flawed.”

  “Did you spill a bottle of perfume in here?” She rubbed her nose.

  “The store called it warm meadow. I sprayed it on the floor mats.”

  “Oh, it’s potent.” Her face showed disapproval.

  “So Kasey,” I changed the subject. “Is that your true name?”

  “No, it’s Kassandra.”

  “Why do you go by Kasey?”

  “My parents have always called me that. It just stuck.”

  “I like Kassandra. I think it be fits you better. Does it bother you if people call you that?”

  “We hardly know each other and already you’re changing my name,” she teased.

  “I was simply asking a question. I would never do anything without your consent.”

  I could already sense the strong chemistry between us. We were natural with each other. I could not help myself but to be flirtatious with her. I would have to tread this liaison with great care.

  “Call me what you like. I don’t mind either way.”

  As we drove up the winding roads away from the village, off to the side, Catalina walked into a forest path.

  “I wonder where she’s going,” Kasey said, glancing backwards.

  “There are ancient ruins about one mile into the forest.”

  Kasey whipped her head around.

  “What does she do there?”

  “She conducts meditation rituals to contact her dead sister.”

  “What!” Kasey’s eyes went wide. Clearly, she did not expect this answer.

  “Four years ago Elena Castillo died in a car accident. Catalina’s never let her go.” I retold Kasey the key facts of the past while my mind flashed back to the night of the accident.

  ******

  The evening was hot and dry; the kind of dry that made it hard to breathe. The little champagne sedan was destroyed on all sides from the impact of rolling down the rocks and then smashing onto the ground below. My brothers and I reached the site seconds after the car drove off the cliff. We were too late. It was busy and hectic in all the chaos. I helped Max with Elena while Antony, John, and Martin went to help the American boy Elena was dating. The impact instantly killed him. Thrown from the car, his body landed on the ground in front of it. He died with his face forever screaming in fear. Elena was smashed almost flat between the steering wheel and her seat. I pried her out and let Max get to work. She was barely alive and dying right before us. The damage to her body was so severe that it was beyond repair. Max could only keep her comfortable until she died. Antony made the sign of the cross on both their foreheads and recited the rite of passage. When Antony finished, we prayed for their souls. I placed her back into the car as best I could so that everything was just as it was. Then we departed the scene.

  ******

  “The American tourist Elena was dating drove the car off a cliff,” I said, looking straight ahead.

  “Why?” Kasey whispered.

  “The authorities say they do not know.”

  “But you do! I mean you sound like you know more,” she said with suspicion.

  I looked over at her with a serious face. “I know only what the authorities know.” I hoped she picked up my hint. I did not wish to discuss the matter further.

  “But I mean someone doesn’t do something like that without a reason. How long were they dating? What did Fernando and Beatriz think of the relationship? Was he normal or did he have some screws loose? Did…”

  “Kasey, I really do not care to discuss this matter.” I interrupted her and kept my eyes on the road.

  She faced her window and huffed, “Fine.”

  The few minutes left of the ride were done in silenc
e. I pulled into the tiny parking lot of the school. In the smoothest voice I could muster I said, “I shall be here around one to escort you back home.”

  She opened the door to the Mini Coop and mumbled coldly, “Fine.”

  I reached out and gently grabbed her wrist to stop her from leaving the car. She gave me a cross look as if I had overstepped a boundary.

  “My apologies,” I said removing my hand. “May I see your phone?”

  “My phone?”

  “Please.” I extended my hand out and attempted a charming look. She reached into her bag and placed the phone in my hand.

  I quickly punched in my phone number using only my thumb. “Now, you have my number.”

  She nodded and stepped out. Her mood had turned cold and sorrowful over Elena’s tragedy. Perhaps the ride back would be lighter. I stared at her perfect thin curves through my rearview mirror. Her white Capri pants hung just below her hipbone while the paisley halter-top sat above the hipbones leaving a perfect inch of skin exposed. Her arms carried the weight of many beaded bracelets. A light breeze blew a few curly strands of hair down. Her half up-do would surely fall from its clip by the day’s end with Mallorca’s wind gusts. What was I thinking falling for this beautiful gypsy?

  I stared blankly into the same road I drove for the past four years, but my mind was on anything but the ride. She was the perfect imperfection for me. How could God have created such a soul for me? More to the question, why would He have? My phone vibrated and not a second later the overture of the Phantom of the Opera played from my mobile. The screen lit up, Twin One.

  “Hello, John,” I answered.

  “Hello, my brother. Martin and I were here bugging around and wanted to know what you thought of Kasey. Were we right?”

  I sighed, “Yes, you chaps were dead on.”

  “Martin says she left mad. What could you possibly have said?”

  “Quit using your abilities on us,” I growled into the phone. I was never fond of their gift to see into the future. Laughter exploded from the other end.

  “Yeah, yeah, we will not look into her future anymore. We promise. Thing is, you do not have the most experience with the ladies. You could use our help.”

  “What? Little boys, that is rubbish.”

  The chuckling continued.

  “Look, I am almost to practice. We shall speak later.” I cut them off.

  “Later then. May I offer some advice? Keep the conversation light on the way back, pick up some lunch, and go to church,” John said.

  “Church?” I questioned.

  “Yes, for I am sure there was nothing good going on in that head of yours. At least, not from what I saw your eyes doing through the rearview mirror.”

  “When I get home I am going to get you…,” I screamed into the cell. He hung up. I drove into the parking lot of the open-air Greek style amphitheater. The stone staircase sloped down toward the stage. Located in the valley of the mountain, the view was serene, heavenly. Zen and peace captured into this magnificent facility.

  ******

  It was one thirty and Kasey had not come out to the school’s parking lot. I was about to go in search of her when she exited with a friend.

  “Dion, I’m sorry I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” Kasey said with a smile. She was clearly over her hollow mood from earlier.

  “To wait is simply life in slow motion.”

  I went to ‘greet’ her the Spanish way. This time she expected it and returned the greeting onto both my cheeks.

  “This is Madhu, she’s staying in Vallendosa.”

  Madhu was clearly not Spanish, based on her dark brown skin and her name. I placed her origins somewhere in India.

  “Mucho gusto,” I greeted her. “How long have you been here?”

  “I have been here since the start of summer from Bangladesh,” she said in a British accent. She was quite attractive, but very flamboyant in her orange and green attire and tight skirt. I liked and appreciated Kasey’s subtle simplicity.

  “So, are you sweet?” I asked Madhu with a grin. She smiled and Kasey looked at me as if I were insane.

  “Oh, absolutely,” Madhu said with a huge smirk. “Kasey, my name means honey. Apparently Dion knows this.”

  “I am fluent in various languages.” I chimed in to help poor Kasey understand.

  “That should come in handy some times,” she said, rather impressed. Or so I hoped she was impressed.

  “Kasey, I have to get going. I shall give you a call tomorrow and we can coordinate your sightseeing tour, Madhu style.”

  “Ok, I’m looking forward to it. Gracias, adios,” Kasey gave Madhu a hug.

  “Dion, un gusto,” Madhu nodded toward me.

  “Also a pleasure for me as well,” I replied. She walked back into the building. I looked at Kasey, relieved to be in her company again. As I predicted, her hair had completely fallen loose. She was wearing it down and wild.

  “Did you have a good day?” I opened the car door for her.

  “I did! It is going to be hard to pick up the language as well as they expect. These two semesters are going to be great.”

  ‘Great’, I thought. I hoped this year, for her at least, would be life altering, and more than just ‘great.’ I got in and started the car. As we drove the winding roads again, I glanced over at her. I was having a hard time keeping my eyes off her. I could feel myself analyzing her every detail. Then to make matters worse, she turned her head and caught me staring. She gave me a slight grin. I didn’t look away. I returned the grin and continued to gaze between her and the road.

  “Thank you for the ride today.” She interrupted my thoughts.

  “You are very welcome. It has been enjoyable. If you would like, I can drive you around anytime you need,” I extended the offer knowing she would accept it later.

  “Thank you. I’ve got your number if I need it…”

  “You will.” I broke in with a smile.

  She huffed and turned to look out the window.

  “So,” she said. “How was the movie?”

  “Movie?” I asked.

  She looked at me perplexed. “Didn’t you say that you were going to the theater?”

  I gave a laugh, “No I did not go to that type of theater.” I clearly confused her further.

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  “I went to the stage theater.”

  “Oh,” she realized. “Did you go see a play?”

  “No, I went to practice for one.”

  “Practice? So you are in a play?” She inquired.

  “Yes. I am an actor at the local theater.”

  “Really!” Apparently, this was a good thing. I should definitely elaborate.

  “Yes, we are putting on the play of Hercules in three months.”

  “Hercules, that’s exciting. What’s your part?”

  “I am Hercules.”

  “No, you’re not! You have the lead!”

  Did she doubt my acting abilities? I would have to show her.

  “Yes, I am a good actor.”

  She giggled.

  “What do you find amusing?”

  “Definitely a bit of James Bond in you,” she answered.

  “Agh,” I scoffed.

  Once in Deia I parallel parked in front of an alleyway.

  “Where are we? What are we doing?” Kasey sounded alarmed.

  “Relax, I am treating you to lunch and picking up some for my brothers as well. Did I not mention this?”

  “Lunch! I thought you always asked permission?” She got out of the car and put her hands on her hips.

  I smiled, “So one slipped.”

  “Where are we? These look like residential homes?” She asked gazing around. The street was deserted. I reached out and grabbed her hand.

  “Follow me it is down the alley,” I pulled her arm heading toward the shadowy alley. She halted and took her hand out of mine.

  “Where are we going, Dion? This part of town looks re
ally old, and there aren’t any restaurants here.” She questioned with an alarmed tone to her voice. Her body turned tense and tight.

  “Forgive me Kasey. Please do not be troubled. I have someone I think you would like to meet. She lives in the last door down the alley.” I extended my hand out to her, “Please.”

  Her eyes narrowed the way they so often do. She glanced down the alley and then looked into my eyes. She searched for something that would let her know to trust me. Whatever it was she saw, she loosened her body, and walked past my hand into the alley.

  4. Kasey and the Villagers

  I could feel my heart thump against my skin. I would never have done this back home, but the American in Spain said try something out of your comfort zone. I was scared, nervous, but every time I looked at him my intuition screamed trust him.

  There wasn’t a soul in the alley. On either side of the barely lit passage, were five green doors. One was by itself at the end of the alleyway. We kept going deeper and deeper into the shadows until we stopped at the last green door.

  “Dion, what are we doing here?” I whispered even though no one was around.

  “Relax.” He knocked on the door. Shuffling and rustling noises came from the other side. Then the door opened.

  A tiny old woman with white hair done up in a bun opened the door. “Si,” she said with a weak and creaky voice. I relaxed.

  Dion answered her in a language other than Spanish. I imagined it was Catalan, the original language of the land. Dion hugged and kissed her affectionately. With a half bow, he introduced me. I gathered that much from the conversation. She leaned forward, expecting me to greet her. I did as Dion had.

  The apartment was like a medieval furnished chamber. It was dreary inside. Only two dimmed orange lamps. One of the lamps sat in the sitting area, while the other in the dining. Had I time warped into the dark ages? How could such a murky place exist in the beautiful paradise of Deia?

  Dion and the elderly woman kept talking in the odd dialect. Then she left the room through a paint chipped red door.

  “Dion, who is she?” I continued to whisper, “Are you speaking Catalan?”

  He spoke in a normal tone. “No, Greek. Her name is Helena. She is a dear old friend. She is blind.”