PARTY
Ramon strolled over to the stand to see what the vendor had to offer. Joseph got out of the car and joined his friend. It was nearly time for the evening meal and his thoughts turned to his wife. He brushed away a fly buzzing at his ear. When she can’t find me, he thought, my woman will be frantic.
He pictured her again, searching for him everywhere, their baby in her arms, calling out to him, refusing to believe he was gone. The fly returned, buzzing persistently. Joseph stepped to the other end of the counter to avoid the annoying, little creature.
Ramon mopped his damp forehead with a paper napkin and motioned to the vendor. "Two Presidentes," he commanded. As an afterthought, he added, "and two meat pies."
The vendor plunked two beer bottles on the counter and proceeded to open them. Joseph grabbed the nearest bottle and took a healthy swig. The tall Haitian closed his eyes in ecstasy as the cold beer rushed down his dry throat. Ramon smiled and pushed one of the meat pies along the counter to Joseph. Their eyes met and they both knew the truth of the matter. Joseph had willingly sold his soul for a ride out of the cane field and a beer, and he would accept whatever came next. This is going to be so easy, Ramon thought.
The men tore greedily into the meat pies, washing the food down with mouthfuls of beer. It was a few minutes before either spoke. Finally, Ramon smiled at Joseph. "I think we should celebrate our new life together," he said choosing his words carefully.
The Haitian nodded. "Yes, we must celebrate our new friendship."
"I can do anything I wish to do," Ramon began, "so I choose not to begin working for a few days."
"Yes, sir," agreed Joseph, "we should have a party."
"Music! Dancing! Food!" exclaimed Ramon.
"Women! Drink! " Joseph added happily.
"Of course," agreed Ramon. He turned to his companion. "If you could have anything you wanted right now, what would you ask for?" Joseph paused before replying, then answered slowly as if he’d given this question a good deal of thought over the years.
"A bed, sir, a real bed. With a mattress. With clean sheets and pillows. A lot of soft pillows." Almost as an afterthought he added, "And a real bathroom, sir, indoors."
Ramon smiled a slow smile. "Yes, Joseph, a real bed with a real bathroom. You shall have it."
Joseph looked anxious. "We shall not have to give up the party? Or the food? Or the drink?"
Ramon laughed, "No, Joseph, or the women or the music either." He clapped his friend on the shoulder. "We shall have it all, Joseph."
Ramon placed his empty beer bottle amidst the food crumbs on the counter and put a few pesos beside it, then he turned back to the car. Joseph tossed down a last swallow of beer and hurried after him
Ramon paused before entering the car. "Can you drive, my friend?" he asked Joseph.
Joseph nodded, "A little, sir." Ramon waved Joseph to the driver’s seat. "That’s fine, as we only have a little way to go." Joseph grinned again and slid into the driver’s seat. He gripped the wheel with both hands in a businesslike manner. Ramon climbed into the passenger seat and slammed his door.
"You must close your door first," he laughed. Joseph reached over and slammed it shut. "Now, turn on the ignition and I shall direct you," Ramon instructed.
Joseph obediently turned the key. "May I inquire where we are going, sir?" he asked respectfully.
"Yes, my friend," Ramon laughed, "we will have our party at a very fine hotel. We are going to Las Naranjas."
The Haitian drove amazingly well for a novice, but Ramon took little notice, simply attributing this newfound skill to the Baka. The mud-splattered car entered the tiny village of Cristo, bumping along the rutted road in the dark and eventually drew up in front of the hotel.
A uniformed man, hired to guard the hotel after dark, was standing on the veranda. Not recognizing these men as registered guests, he brought his right hand forward to show that he had a rifle.
"Turn off the ignition and take the key," Ramon instructed. Joseph did as he was told and made ready to exit the car. "The lights! The lights!" Ramon snapped, pointing to the switch. Joseph pressed the switch and sat there looking sheepish. Ramon left the car, bounded up the front steps, and pushed his way past the guard. "Come on if you want that bed," he called over his shoulder.
Goldie was at the reception desk when the men entered the lobby. Busily updating the day’s billing, she froze, pen in midair, at the sight of Ramon. Goldie later described the incident to her husband in a trembling voice.
"Jose’s brother-in-law! An evil-looking man. Eyes glittering like a snake. And that other man. Like a Nazi, he looked." She stamped her foot for emphasis. "I don’t want them here, Jacob." She shook her head violently. "I don’t want them here!"
Jacob put his frail arms around Goldie. He patted her comfortingly. "I know. I know." He kissed a tear from her cheek. "But you registered them, my dear. Room 107. They are now our guests. We have no reason to refuse them in any case."
"He is evil! That is reason enough," Goldie insisted. "Everyone knows about this man, Jacob!"
Jacob shook his head. "Nothing has ever been proven. And now, it’s been a long day. I must go to bed." He took off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt collar. "Tomorrow, my wife. Tomorrow will be different." Goldie sighed. She laid out his pajamas and turned down the bedcovers.
"Tomorrow he will check out and no harm done," Jacob whispered. He changed quickly and slipped his suit onto a hanger. Goldie shivered visibly. She caught Jacob’s eye and managed a weak smile. "Something walked over my grave," she joked. As she climbed into bed, a sober look came over her face. "Why did he come here, Jacob?" she demanded in a low voice. "What does he want from us?"
Jacob stared at her. He had no answer so he reached over and turned off the light. He lay there in the darkness and waited for sleep to come. All the while Goldie’s question nagged at him. It was almost time to wake up before he fell into an exhausted sleep.
Morning dawned and Goldie dressed quickly, catching her silver hair up into a knot. Her lips set firmly as she steeled herself for the possible encounter of having to face the unwelcome pair when they came down to check out. She returned to her station in the lobby.
Jose had been up bright and early sprucing up the entrance. The wooden, reception desk had been polished until it gleamed. He had touched up the paint on the lobby wall where a tourist’s suitcase had marred the finish. All the plants had been watered and the dead leaves pruned away.
All this was wasted on Goldie. Her mind was on Ramon. She settled down to wait. The morning passed with agonizing slowness and Goldie grew impatient. It soon became clear that Ramon and his companion had no intention of checking out.
The two men rose around noon and strolled over to the hotel's little shop. They ordered several pairs of slacks and shirts, which they charged to their room. The shop's clerk immediately sized them up as not possessing the necessary funds to make such a transaction, but, try as he would, he seemed unable to voice his objections. Somehow, the sale had taken place, with the clerk becoming increasingly uncomfortable in their presence.
As the fellow later muttered to his employers, he had forced himself to write up the sales slip and wrap the merchandise. Then he held the door for the guests from Room 107 to exit, breathing a sigh of relief after they passed from the shop.
"There was something about those two," he confided in a low voice. "Something . . .," he groped for the word.
"Evil!" exclaimed Goldie. The clerk nodded. They turned to Jacob.
"You must do something. It is not right that they are here." Goldie insisted.
"Everyone knows about Ramon," the clerk began.
Jacob shook his head. "You cannot condemn a person for rumors. There is no proof."
Goldie opened her mouth to protest again, but Jacob cut her short. "He is Julia's only son, Goldie." And, for the time being, they left it at that.
Jacob turned and wandered back into his office, still muttering as he passed through the narrow door
way. Goldie and the clerk watched Jacob's retreating figure, then turned to face one another. Each saw hopelessness reflected in the other's face. The clerk shuffled back to the little shop in defeat. Goldie sighed audibly and began the task of sorting the mail. "Tomorrow they will check out," she grimly assured herself and tried to push the matter from her mind.
Ramon and Joseph, meanwhile, went about their business, seemingly unaware of the turmoil around them. Upon returning to their room, they showered and changed into the newly purchased garments. After eyeing themselves approvingly in the mirror, the two decided to treat themselves to brunch.
"We look too good not to be seen, my friend," Ramon quipped as he adjusted his new shirt collar for the third time.
"This is true, sir," Joseph agreed and he opened the hotel room door for the little man. Ramon exited and walked quickly down the corridor in the direction of the dining room. Joseph stepped into the hallway and locked the door. Pocketing the key, he hurried to catch up with his new friend and benefactor.
As they entered the lobby, Goldie looked up. Bitter disappointment welled up inside her as the men continued past the reception desk. Their footsteps resounded hollowly on the marble floor as they crossed the lobby and rounded the large pots of orange trees. Goldie's lips pressed tightly together, her expression grim, as she realized they were on the way to the dining room. She kept watch while the two waited to be seated. They chose a table by the window overlooking the river.
Seemingly content, they opened their menus. Either the larger man, the Haitian, couldn't read, or he read neither Spanish nor English. In any case, Ramon appeared to be ordering for both of them. Goldie watched them for a few moments and then knocked on Jacob's office door. She went back to watching the men. Jacob appeared in the doorway with an expectant air.
"Did you want me, Goldie?" He walked to the desk, stood beside her, and peered in the direction of the dining room to see why she was staring.
"They are in the dining room, Jacob! Our dining room!" Goldie whispered in a tight voice. "Look!" she commanded.
Jacob watched the two men sitting by the window. They were leaning toward one another, engaged in eagerly whispered conversation. He saw the snow-white, linen tablecloth with its gleaming glasses and silverware. A tiny floral arrangement rested on the table between them. The tree leaves swayed gently in the breeze on the other side of the windowpane.
Jacob sighed, "Everyone has to eat, Goldie." He turned and shuffled back to his office, leaving Goldie glaring in disapproval.
Back in the dining room, Ramon and Joseph placed an order for a bottle of the hotel's finest wine. When the waiter returned and removed the cork, Ramon grabbed greedily at the bottle without bothering to approve the vintage. He splashed the rich, red liquid into the wineglasses.
In his haste some of the wine missed Joseph's glass and spilled onto the freshly starched, white-linen tablecloth. The waiter winced and attempted to blot the puddle with a serving cloth, but Ramon waved the man away. The waiter scurried off and took up a station on the far side of the dining room as the men gulped down the wine. Ramon poured another round.
"We have had the real bed, sir," Joseph sighed happily.
"And new clothes. Don't forget that, Joseph," Ramon agreed. "We have our drink now," he smiled, "and the food will be coming shortly."
Joseph raised his glass in a silent toast to Ramon. Ramon smiled his approval. They drained their glasses. Joseph poured the next round with care.
"And the women, sir?" he whispered urgently.
"Yes, Joseph," his friend assured him. "There will be women today, tonight, and whenever you wish." Ramon motioned to the waiter. "So we must eat to keep up our strength for what we are about to do," he laughed.
The prospect of women, many women, filled Joseph's imagination and the tall Haitian was grinning shamelessly by the time the waiter brought their food.
Back at the reception desk, Goldie knocked on Jacob's office door. Jacob poked his head out in response. "They are ordering our most expensive dishes, our best wine, and half our desserts," she announced.
Jacob grimaced and took off his glasses. He wiped the lenses carefully with his handkerchief and replaced the glasses on his nose. "These things are listed on the menu, my dear wife," he answered. "These items are listed because we expect someone to order them . . . sometime," he added and returned to the inner office.
After gorging themselves in the dining room, Ramon and Joseph charged the feast to Room 107. Satisfied at last, they pushed back their chairs and decided to move their operation to the small cocktail lounge, where they attempted, unsuccessfully, to speak to two lady tourists. Ramon whispered to Joseph that the women looked "most promising," but he’d no sooner introduced himself when the ladies rose, stammering excuses, and fled the lounge. Joseph was openly disappointed, but Ramon was enraged.
In a country where males and females deemed those in a single state against nature and pairing off to be financially advantageous, he, oddly enough, had never been popular with the opposite sex. It was almost as if they looked past his feigned pleasantries and saw through to his true intentions. Upon making his acquaintance, the same look always came into their eyes, and it was more pronounced since he had claimed the book.
During the time he’d shut himself away to experiment with the book, he had not sought female companionship. Women, at that time, had been the furthest thing from his mind, but now, now that the world was his, the Baka's bargain certainly must have included popularity with women. Ramon racked his memory, but try as he could, he didn't recall discussing anything save power, magic, money, and protection at the tree.
He swiveled around on the barstool, snarling his order at the bartender. "Two Presidentes!" Then muttered, "Stupid, foreign women!"
"I wouldn't mind foreign women, sir, not at all," confided Joseph. "And they need not possess intelligence for our purposes, sir," he added.
"We will have women, Joseph," Ramon declared. "We will have them by tonight!" The men tossed down their drinks, charging them to Room 107. Ramon stood up and belched loudly. He laughed a drunken laugh. "Come, my friend," he said. "We will first bet on the cock fights."
Spellbound: a Tale of Magic, Mystery & Murder Page 14