Spellbound: a Tale of Magic, Mystery & Murder
Page 25
CHAPTER 22 - THE VISIT
Maria yearned for another child, perhaps a daughter, to complete their family. Her neighbors had been blessed with large families and she rejoiced for them. But despite her tears and candles to her saints, each of Maria’s subsequent pregnancies ended in miscarriage. When a year had passed and she was still unable to bear a second child to term, Maria began to despair.
Another year passed and, not only was she unable to have another child, more and more young relatives were mysteriously disappearing. Maria fretted for months and finally came to a decision.
"Jose," she insisted, "I must visit Rosalinda."
"Who is this Rosalinda and where does she live?" Jose frowned. "I have never heard of her."
"Oh, yes, I have spoken of her. She was my mother's very dear friend. She lives in Santo Domingo in such a very fine house."
"Must you visit without me? You know I cannot leave my many jobs right now. I am important to Jacob and the hotel."
"But, Jose," wheedled Maria, "Jacob will let you take the taxi to drive me to the city. You can drop me off when you go to the airport. Just as you always do."
"Who will mind Luis while I am busy at the hotel?"
"Luis will remain with me, of course. Too many babies are disappearing. My child will not be one of them," she said with determination.
"Perhaps it would better for our son to be away from this … this danger," Jose agreed. Then he remembered Julia's prophecy. "It would be good for you to visit this Rosalinda," he said firmly. But Maria was suspicious of his sudden insistence.
He laughed. "Your mother! She told me if I would let you visit her old and dear friend that we would be blessed with a daughter. Your mother was a wise woman and I would like to have a daughter. I would like it very much."
The next morning Maria and Luis joined the hotel's tourists on the drive to the airport. After dropping off the tourists, Jose allowed Maria to instruct him on how to get to Rosalinda's home. As they drove through the streets of Santo Domingo, Jose marveled at the beautiful pastel exteriors of the homes and buildings.
"So many colors!" Maria exclaimed.
"Look! Look!" Jose cried, pointing so Maria would see. "There is a uniformed man with a rifle in front of each of the private homes. And in front of that hotel. And those business buildings."
Maria nodded. "Just like Las Naranjas. Like Jacob, these people must think they have something worth protecting."
The taxi wound in and out of streets, with Maria directing and then misdirecting, as she tried to remember exactly where Rosalinda lived. "Stop! Stop!" she squealed when the taxi came upon a bright-pink house surrounded by flower pots. "This is it."
The owner of the pink house, an elderly woman with spindly arms and legs, gray hair escaping from her headwrap, stepped outside and shaded her eyes from the sun. To Jose's surprise, the woman was Haitian.
Maria was out of the car in a flash, dragging Luis with her. "Rosalinda! It's me! Little Maria!"
Rosalinda smiled, a nearly toothless smile, and held out her arms to hug Maria and Luis. Jose pulled the car up onto the lawn and joined them. "My son! Julia's grandchild!" he announced proudly.
"Just like a man to take all the credit for a woman having a baby." Rosalinda chuckled, ushering her visitors inside. As soon as they had been settled down with a cool drink and biscuits, Maria blurted out her story. She began with her elopement and ended, twenty minutes later, with her inability to have a second child.
"Are you sure you have left nothing out?" asked Rosalinda with good humor.
"You are a great priestess. You must have known I was coming. And why," Maria whispered, lowering her eyes.
Yes, this is true. I can help you as your mother would have wished. I can protect you. I can help you make your family grow. I can do this because this is what you want, but," she said, suddenly serious, pointing to Jose, "what does he want?" Her eyes fixed on him.
"I . . . I . . . would like a child . . . a daughter," stammered Jose.
Rosalinda touched her fingertip to the cross Jose wore around his neck.
"Will you do exactly as I ask?"
"I am Catholic!" he hastened to say.
"Being Catholic has brought you a son. It will not bring you a daughter. Powerful magic, evil magic, now works against your family. You must accept different ways, at least long enough to bring about a healthy daughter."
Rosalinda fixed Jose with glittering eyes, like a snake marking its prey.
"If you do not accept my help, things will simply remain the same as they are now. If you do accept my help, alternatives are possible."
Little Luis found the old, black woman fascinating and broke the tension by attempting to climb onto Rosalinda's lap. This gave Jose time to think and, when he spoke, he told of the truth in his heart.
"I do want a daughter . . . but I do not want any harm to come to Maria and Luis." His voice dropped and he lowered his gaze. "And I am afraid to do anything you might ask that is against my beliefs."
Rosalinda paused to refill their perspiring glasses. "My son, you cannot attain your desires as long as you fear my methods. I promise you, this will not hurt you or anyone in your family. I will only make things better."
Maria squeezed his hand with tears in her eyes. "My husband, I would not ask this of you if it had not become necessary. This lady is very powerful, a maker of good magic. She was a close friend of my mother and, as you have told me, she is part of my mother's prophecy."
The women argued with him until it was dark, until Jose finally agreed.
"An evil one has cursed you," Rosalinda told Maria. "A blood sacrifice has been made. In order to make our magic as powerful, we must also have a blood sacrifice."
Jose jumped up, clutching Luis protectively.
"Not my son!"
"A goat," soothed Rosalinda, "a nice, young, healthy goat. And afterward, we shall have a delicious goat stew for dinner." Maria nodded and Jose sighed with relief.
"A goat," he agreed.
Rosalinda explained that she had foreseen their visit, their great need, and had prepared for the ceremony before they had even left Cristo. "See," she said, pointing to a handsome kid in the backyard. Then she instructed her visitors as to the roles they would play in the ritual. Jose agreed, but beads of perspiration dotted his forehead.
"We will go over your roles carefully. When it is your turn to participate, you must not falter," she warned Jose. Jose nodded in desperation, praying that the promised new daughter and protection of his family would offset any possible burning of his immortal Christian soul.
By the time the ceremony, with its foreign chanting, splattering blood, leaping flames, and strange objects was over, Jose was too distressed to drive.
As this, too, had been planned, Rosalinda directed the exhausted couple to one of the bedrooms, the one with a real door, and settled herself and Luis down in the other bedroom. Once cozily ensconced, Jose found himself not as distressed or exhausted as he'd thought for, when Maria's warm hands made a search of his secret places, he responded fiercely.
He stumbled out of his cozy nest before dawn, fearing a late return to the hotel, as Jacob and the hotel's many guests must not be kept waiting. Rosalinda was there with strong, black coffee and some fruit. While he wolfed this down, she made him a sandwich for the road.
"I must now drive like a madman if I am to keep my job at the hotel. I am very important to Jacob. He counts on me."
"Drive like a careful madman," Rosalinda cautioned, "for you will soon have another mouth to feed." The old woman walked him to the car and forced the sandwich into his hand.
"Your family must stay with me for a time. Until after your daughter is born. Until after the child is old enough that I feel it is protected. When I feel the time is right, then they may go home."
Jose wasn't happy at the news of not living with his family again for almost a year, but he was resigned to this necessity. "I will come to visit as often as I can," he promised, "if you will let m
e. Every time I go to the airport, I will stop off."
Rosalinda nodded. "And for what I have done for you, how will you honor me?"
"I will bring you a fine present each time I come," Jose smiled, "and we will name the baby Rosalinda." The old woman smiled, "That is good." She stood back from the car and watched as Jose drove back to Cristo. Like a madman.