Pacifica

by Jill Zeller

  I was not, I decided, going to any doctor. What was the point? All I had to do was wait until the inevitable, and it might never come. Denial was as soothing as the tonic.

  But I was frightened. Not so much of my situation, if it were true—pregnant and unmarried and 3000 miles from my family—but of naming the father.

  Funny how the mind works. Instantly I thought of Jesus Robles, his smooth newly-shaven cheeks and unsettling eyes, the scar along his flank. If he were the father, the thought of having the child of a martyred rebel flattered my ego. How daring, how brave of the American girl-hostage in Mexico.

  But not so fast, Ondine. Just two days after leaving Jesus and the hacienda, there was that other incident, something I kept deep in a corner of my mind, but always there, heavy and cold and waiting like a dark predator.

  My heart galloped into my throat and I had to sit up. A dim moon and the lights of Los Angeles cast a faint glow onto the objects of my room. On my bedside table Dr. Liu waited, asking if I wanted more, but I had already taken a full dose.

  Getting up I went to my window. Below my room the Purfoy pool was a dark rectangle embedded in pale stone.

  Francisco Robles raped me. What if the child is his?

  Someone was swimming. The water rippled and lapped with an opal-like light. A figure zoomed through the water, rapid and sure. Blinking, I looked hard through the gloom, and saw the swimmer, making an arrow-wake through the water toward another who floated there, still and waiting—

  My hands went to my mouth. Heat rushed through me at the thought of what I was seeing.

  The dog, Duke, swimming.

  The other, a person, floating without a movement. The dog gripped an arm, turned, swam, pulling, water rippling and splashing soft sparks of light into the night air. The crickets sang; a breeze lapped me as I stared, my throat closing.

  Someone, in the water. Someone the dog was trying to save.

  Whirling, I didn’t bother to find my robe. I pounded on Millicent’s door, and she came quickly, pulling her robe around her.

  “Quick, help. The pool. Someone—”

  She seemed to understand, even though the words refused to obey me, and ran away down the hall. I followed.

  By the time we reached the patio Merlin was already there, kneeling on the rim. The poor dog circled the water below him, unable to climb out, nudging and gripping at the still form in the water.

  Millicent knelt beside Merlin, trying to grab the body; every bone in my body quivered and I had lost the power of speech.

  This won’t work at all.

  Pulling off my shift, I sat on the edge of the pool and slipped in. Seeing me, Duke swam toward me, mouth clamped around the naked arm. Grabbing Duke’s collar, I guided and pulled him toward the shallow end of the pool.

  Circling the pool, Millicent and Merlin waded in, each grabbing an arm, and pulled Dennis out of the pool.

  I had not really known, until this minute as Duke and I followed, climbing out of the cold water, that it was Dennis lying face down in the pool. My heart hammered under my ribs and all I could hear was the sound of Millicent’s quick breaths as she rolled Dennis over and began pressing on his back while Merlin muttered in Chinese.

  From the house more servants appeared, standing, staring. Moving toward them, I demanded blankets, hot tea. My voice sounded reedy and weak in my ears, under a buzzing hum.

  I stood still and watched, holding Duke’s collar. The dog was trying to pull toward his master, lick his face, lick him back alive, perhaps. Millicent rolled Dennis onto his back. His face was blue-tinged and puffy; his mouth hung slack and his eyes were half open.

  Oh god please let him not be dead.

  She lifted his arms, turned his head to one side, pressed on his chest. Over and over, I watched her work, slim, muscular arms moving like a mechanical man.

  Merlin knelt beside Dennis’s still form, muttering, praying. The maids brought blankets, laid them a few feet away, and backed off as if afraid.

  Silence fell over us; crickets and Millicent’s breathing were the only sounds. And my heart thudding in my throat.

  It seemed an hour had passed. He’s gone, I thought; my lower jaw shook and my teeth ached. He’s gone.

  A sharp cough, followed by another, seemed to rip through the air like a bomb. I saw Dennis’s head rise, and Millicent swiftly moved to support him with her knee.

  She motioned at Merlin and they sat Dennis up. He coughed thin strands of water and mucus into his lap.

  My knees felt weak as a baby’s, but I moved, seized a blanket, and draped it over him.

  “Mr. Purfoy. Mr. Purfoy. Open your eyes.”

  Millicent’s voice was sharp, loud. It made me jump, but I was wildly glad to see Dennis’s eyes open wide, then slide shut again.

  “Tea, Merlin, please,” Millicent said, and Merlin barked a command to one of the maids, who shakily poured a cup and gave it to him.

  But Millicent did not force Dennis to drink. Instead she held it just under his nose and mouth, and seemed to want him to breathe it in. All this did was make him cough even more, but I decided that was a good thing.

  “We need to get him to bed, and call the family doctor, Merlin, if you please.”

  Merlin gave a quick nod. I reached to help, but Millicent stopped me with a look. Between her, Merlin and two maids, we were able to get Dennis to a guest room, undressed and warmed, as he shivered and coughed, and cursed under his breath.

  I recognized the doctor who came as a frequent guest at the Purfoy-Carré parties. He was young and competent, and Millicent stayed in the room with him as he examined Dennis.

  Waiting in the living room, I warmed myself with a blanket and one of Dennis’s brandies. The knots in my stomach untwisted themselves with the knowledge that he was alive. Then twisted up tighter than ever as I thought about what else had happened this night.

  And one more thought niggled at me. Where was Loretta? Hadn’t she heard the commotion outside by the pool? Why hadn’t she come down to see? And if she didn’t know, had anybody thought to wake her up and tell her what happened?

  Just as I was wondering if I should go up and knock at her door, the doctor reappeared and approached.

  A petite man with a pencil-thin brown mustache and rather bulbous eyes, he tilted his head as he looked at me.

  “Mr. Dudek said I should examine you, Miss Lynch.”

  “Oh no, I’m fine. I can swim, you see, and I just jumped into help, but I’m healthy as a horse.” To show him, I got to my feet, smoothed my wet hair.

  “Yes, but even so, Mr. Dudek was very firm that I should examine you.”

  A gap opened up under my ribs and I felt everything falling in. “Oh, well, I don’t think that would be necessary. At least not right now.” Turning away, I set my glass of brandy on a nearby table.

  “Well, then,” The doctor gave me his card and told me to come tomorrow. I smiled and agreed, although I had no intention of doing so. “Is Mrs. Purfoy at home? I really should speak with her.”

  “I think she’s upstairs. I’ll get one of the servants to wake her.”

  Nodding, he set down his medical bag and helped himself to a brandy.

  Having no idea how to summon any of the Chinese servants, I decided to go up myself.

  Especially, I thought, if the reason Loretta had not woken was a large dose of Mr. Liu’s Health & Happiness tonic.

  My soft knock gave me no response. Gently I turned the knob and pushed the door open.

  The room was dim, like all the rooms on this moonless night. A sharp scent, like ripe cheese, filled the room, barely covered by the heavy odors of rose and orchid. A chill ran down my neck and I stood frozen for a moment.

  A movement caught my eyes, someone emerging from behind the open closet door. I jumped and gasped, and then recognized Merlin coming toward me, holding a flat box in his hands.

  “Merlin, I came to wake Loretta. She needs to know—”

  “No, no, Miss. Not time. Not
now.”

  “She has to know.” I started past him but he stepped in my way.

  “Please Miss. An unhappy chance. A very unhappy chance.” Merlin held the box close to his chest. I could see his hands shaking.

  “What’s going on? What are you talking about?” I strained to see Loretta’s bed, over Merlin’s shoulder, the chill on my neck swiftly warming.

  I said, “Loretta, wake up. You have to wake up. Dennis has had an accident.”

  My voice was loud, but seemed to thud echoless in the dark, stuffy room.

  There was no sound, not a movement from the tangle of blankets and sheets. I thought I saw her head, a tousle of shorn hair, and maybe a hand hanging off the side.

  Heat bloomed in my throat, and I felt my knees wobble. Pushing Merlin out of the way, I went to her, and saw in the faint glow of a distant street lamp, the little pool of vomit trailed from Loretta’s mouth, and her eyes, half-closed, so like Dennis’s

  But there was no sound, no movement, no breath. I touched her hand, and it was ice. And on the bedside table stood guilty and remorseless a bottle of Mr. Liu’s Health & Happiness Tonic.

  “You see, Miss. Unhappy. So unhappy. See here.” Merlin shoved the box he held before me, the lid off, and a dozen more bottles lined up inside, neatly held by cardboard dividers. “No one must know. She must be protected, especially now. We must destroy all this.”

  He picked up the bottle on the table, slipped it into an empty slot in the box. “I have tried to stop her. She will get this always, one way or another, she pays money and the bad ones will make it for her. I hide it, steal it, but then she hides it from me.”

  Sinking to my knees, I sat on the plush carpet, every muscle ached and drained of any strength I might have had.

  “Does Mr. Purfoy know?”

  Merlin looked down at the box in his hand, shook his head. I thought I saw a gleam of wetness on his cheek. “If he knows, he does not want to know. You see? He is blind and deaf, but sees and hears very well.”

  Silence ringed us in again, buzzed thickly in my ears. I sat for a long moment before I could gather any single thought.

  “Merlin, deal with these quickly.” I touched the rim of his box. “Then go down and get the doctor and bring him here.”

  As Merlin bowed and turned away, I said, “I think the doctor knows Miss Carré very well, and I think he will protect her too, especially now.”

  At the door Merlin bowed again, very low, a sign, I had learned, of great respect. I bowed my head at him, sat quietly beside Loretta, and waited.

  5

  Despite our efforts, rumors of drugs flowed from the press. The funeral took place in a little cemetery in Santa Monica. In a wheelchair with a pretty attendant, Dennis came with Merlin and the staff, myself, Millicent in her Milo disguise, and most of Hollywood and Los Angeles combined. Loretta Carré was more popular and adored than I had imagined.

  After the funeral, in the company of injured stuntmen and actors drying out, Dennis recuperated in a hospital in the Hollywood hills. Millicent and I stayed at the house in Merlin’s care, with the dogs and silence for company. Merlin seemed to consider me the mistress now.

  Knowing I couldn’t stay here any longer, I had no idea of what to do next. My money was running out, and when I thought about my one choice—going home—my stomach twisted itself into knots.

  I had to find work, a place to live. And even that was a temporary solution, if what Millie believed about me was true. My nights were lost in deep sleep. I had destroyed my bottle of Dr. Liu’s Health & Happiness Tonic, but I fell asleep in my chair beside the pool or even at the dinner table. Millie pulled me out of the house on her long walks, which exhausted me. But it was better than wandering around the empty house, holding poor Cecil, Duke trailing after us like a lost puppy.

  Two days after the funeral, Merlin brought the yellow car to the front of the house. A message had arrived from the hospital. Dennis wanted to see us.

  Long, low white buildings squared off around a green lawn. The arched verandas fronting the hospital wings told the story of this place that had once been a hacienda. There were many such old casas in the valleys and hills around Los Angeles. Every time I saw one the memory of Hacienda de la Paloma pulsed in my mind.

  Dennis met us in a waiting room of wicker chairs with bright cushions flanking tall potted palms. He was, as expected, pale and thin, and had a cough painful to hear. But he smiled at the sight of us, and waved us to the chairs. Even Merlin was invited to sit down but he refused, instead choosing to stand in a corner half-hidden by fronds.

  We exchanged bits of talk regarding his recovery. He was coming along, his doctors told him. Not fast enough, in his opinion, because he wanted more than anything to get back to work. Milo and I exchanged glances. From the looks of him, it would be a while before he could work again.

  And more than anything, he said, leaning toward me, he wanted to produce a motion picture about our time in Mexico.

  “I’ve thought of some titles, although the writers may argue. ‘Guns across Mexico.’ Or, maybe, ‘A Girl and a Rebel’.”

  I felt a little sickened by this. I was beginning to believe he had given up the idea, and had felt relieved about it. Millicent sat very still while I fidgeted, re-crossing my legs and smoothing my hair. Dennis’s smile faded and what little color there was in his face faded as well.

  “Milo,” he said finally, “I want to thank you for saving my life.”

  I saw a flush rise up Millie’s neck, and she said nothing, just gave him a crooked nod.

  “You both have a right to the truth about what happened that night.”

  My hand went up, to stop him. A flush crawled across my cheeks and forehead. But he ignored me, his gaze focused out the window at a pasture of grazing cattle.

  “We quarreled. I didn’t tell the police that, even though they asked me. It was my fault she took that stuff, it was my fault she had such a craving for it.”

  Dennis worked his hands, kneading the knuckles of one with the fingers of the other. I watched him, saw white streaks left by his fingers quickly fill with red.

  “That’s why she got fired. She couldn’t remember where she was supposed to stand, she would fall asleep in a corner.” He shook his head. “Sometimes she didn’t show up at all, they told me. I don’t know where she went, or who she was with.”

  “Me or Milo.” My voice found words. “She took us places.”

  One of Dennis’s eyebrows drew down. “I know. She couldn’t stop talking about you two. She was fascinated. I hoped it might change things, that she would take that interest and make it into something. Maybe about a brave young woman captured by rebels.”

  So he had been hoping Loretta would portray my role in his motion picture. How could he even want to consider the project now?

  We would never know, I thought, whether Loretta killed herself or just took a little too much. I had only known her a few weeks, but I didn’t think she would kill herself. I knew she loved Dennis, as much as she was able to love anyone.

  We fell into silence again, the only sound leaves rattling outside the window in a stiff breeze.

  Dennis said, “I found her.”

  Millie moved in her chair, and I held my breath, my heart thudding.

  Dennis pressed his hand on his forehead, knuckles red from chafing. “I left to get drunk, came back to apologize. I found her like that.”

  His words came from under the palm of his hand, very low and soft. “I can’t stop thinking about that. What if she was still alive and I could have saved her if I had gotten help? But I thought she was dead and I killed her with distrust and misunderstanding and pride.

  “I went out and sat by the pool. Then I just jumped in. I was drunk as hell. And I must have passed out.”

  All this while Millie was confessing her secret to me and revealing my own secret. All this on a moonless night in late September.

  “I’m going to sell that house.” Dennis’s hand droppe
d to his lap. “I’ve got a room in a hotel downtown near the offices. I’m not going back there, ever. It was her house, the house she wanted. And what’s the use of it now?”

  A nurse arrived to take Dennis back to his room. Millie and I followed them along the corridor, Dennis slumped in the wheelchair, the nurse chirping at him about overdoing it, Mr. Purfoy and what will the doctor say? The drive home was silent. I watched the back of Merlin’s head, wondering what he thought about his fate, if he could go to work for Dennis Purfoy in a hotel room. I worried, oddly, for little Cecil. And Duke, who missed his master so much. What would become of them?

  The next few days we saw changes. Merlin was closing up the house. The maid was gone. There was no question of Millie and me staying here any longer. I had enough money left for a week in a hotel and after that—well, I had just better find a job. The letter I received from Mama and Papa only the day before was that the only money they would give me now was money for a ticket home.

  There were so many things my last letter didn’t tell them.

  The afternoon of the day after our visit with Dennis, I was ready.

  Packing up my meager wardrobe, drawings and sketch book, I got it all into my carpet bag, taking almost nothing of the clothing Loretta had bought for me, just practical shoes, a shirtwaist and skirt, and a straw hat I was particularly fond of. I planned to take the streetcar downtown, and take a hotel room somewhere cheap for Millie and me.

  Knocking on Millie’s door, I felt strangely light and free, almost as I had the day Leopardo pushed away from New York Harbor. It was my fate, I supposed, to leave things behind, messy, unpredictable and sorrowful things. If life were a golden road of sweet peace, what would be the point of traveling anywhere, I asked myself.

  Millie answered the door in her ship's uniform, hair slicked back, wearing her peacoat, duffel bag slung over her shoulder. I stared at her, unable to move.

  “But where are the clothes I gave you? The hat and shoes? Why do you have to go out as Milo anymore?” My voice squeaked with surprise. Disappointment bit at me, running at my heels alongside fear.