“Because he was waiting for the exact right moment.”
Lola felt a chill as Enriqueta echoed the words she herself had heard so often.
“He wants to be careful about his timing. He says you’re a bit…” Enriqueta stumbled as she tried to remember the word.
“…a bit volatile.” Lola completed the familiar sentence without realizing that she spoke aloud.
“…volatile,” echoed Enriqueta, ignoring her sister.
Jacoba interrupted with words she spat from the top of her throat like an angry cat. “Look at her! Ask her who went with her during those visits. The servants are all working in the mornings. I know where every one of the servants is every moment of the day. Ask her who acted as chaperone. Ask her.”
At last their father tore his eyes away from Enriqueta and turned his head toward the incessant grating sound of his wife’s voice. “How is it that you know where each one of the servants is every moment of the day, but you have no idea what the young ladies who are your husband’s children are doing?” He turned his head back toward Enriqueta. Jacoba stiffened and her fingers spread and curled. Lola almost expected to see her nails lengthen.
“Ask her where she went and what she did during those visits.” Jacoba spat out the words like venom.
“Silence, woman. This is between me and my daughter.” Their father’s eyes did not leave Enriqueta. “Tell me more, Enriqueta.”
“He said you would be expecting his request of my hand. Why else would you hire an inexperienced young person as distillery master instead of training an experienced worker?” Enriqueta paused for breath.
“…Because,” said Lola, staring unseeing in front of her, “he needs a man from an aristocratic family to train as a future son-in-law, a son-in-law trained to run the distillery his bride will receive as her dowry.” Lola rose from her chair with the look of a sleepwalker. Enriqueta’s expression went from confusion to horror.
“But when will you ask him, Beloved Rudolfo?” Lola took a step forward. “I’m waiting for the exact right moment, Beloved Lola. Don’t worry, Dearest Lola. Very soon we’ll be together always.” Lola’s voice got weaker and weaker as she spoke, and she slumped to the floor, senseless.
V. January 1908: Lola almost 14
A voice was calling her. She wanted it to go away and let her sleep. Lola, please don’t leave me. Please come back. It was Enriqueta—and she was crying. Lola struggled to wake up. Her sister needed her. She opened her eyes slowly, then closed them again. The light hurt. Lola tried again. This time it worked. Enriqueta was bending over her. As bad as Lola felt, she thought her sister looked even worse. There were tear stains on her cheeks, and dark circles under her red-rimmed eyes.
Lola remembered that her beloved Rudolfo had promised to wed her sister. The pain was so intense she let out a soft moan. Her eyelids closed once more; tears leaked unheeded from beneath her closed lids. Lola heard Enriqueta’s sobs and felt her hands brush tears from her face.
“Please come back to me, Lola.” The words sounded as though they had been wrenched from Enriqueta’s very soul. Lola’s eyes fluttered open. “Thank our Heavenly Father that you’re awake. I was so afraid He wouldn’t answer my prayers.”
Lola struggled to sit. Enriqueta helped her and arranged pillows behind her head. “I must tell Pilar you’re awake and get some broth for you. You must be very weak. You’ve been lying there for days. Can I leave you alone for a minute?”
Lola nodded weakly and dizziness threatened to overcome her. Could she really have been sleeping for days? Enriqueta must be exaggerating. She must’ve dozed off again because she awoke to the feel of a warm teacup being pressed to her lips. She sipped the tea, and her stomach protested.
“It’s too sweet, Enriqueta. If I drink it, I’ll throw it up for sure.”
Enriqueta groaned. She put her mouth close to Lola’s ear and whispered, “Lola, are you with child?” Why did she ask? Enriqueta tried again. “Did Rudolfo ask you to prove you could love him as a woman loves a man?” Lola’s eyes widened and she gasped in surprise.
“That’s why you had to let out your dress.” Enriqueta nodded and tears rolled down her cheeks. “Then you must marry him,” said Lola turning her face away so her sister would not see the fresh tears.
Enriqueta made an impatient sound. “I don’t think either one of us will marry him—but that’s another story. We have very little time before Pilar gets here with your chicken broth. You have to tell me—are you with child?”
“I don’t think so. My clothes still fit.”
“Lola, don’t you ever listen? When was your last monthly?”
“I can’t remember...a long time ago. I was happy that it didn’t come because I could keep our special time together.” Knowledge seeped like an ooze of horror into Lola’s mind and overwhelmed her thoughts. She wanted to scream, but her throat was closed. She wanted to beat on her sister, and say it wasn’t true, but her arms wouldn’t move.
“Oh, Lola, I’m so sorry.” Enriqueta put her arms around her sister, and Lola couldn’t hold back her tears. The two girls clung together and sobbed.
“Señorita Lola, it’s wonderful to see you awake.” Pilar bustled into the room with a steaming bowl of broth on a tray. “What’s going on here? Señorita Enriqueta, you should be happy your sister’s awake, instead of making her cry.” Pilar clucked her tongue. “Go take a rest. You’ve been sitting here for two days straight, and that’s not good for you. Go and have a rest. I’ll stay with her.”
“I’ll wait for you.” Lola waited until Enriqueta left the room before turning to Pilar. “Why did Enriqueta say that neither of us will wed Rudolfo?”
“First things first, dear.” Pilar smiled as she put the tray in her lap and filled a spoon with broth. “You’ll be pleased to know that mean rooster that used to chase you around the yard is now a nice chicken broth.”
Lola frowned and turned her head. “I can’t, Pilar. I’ll be sick.”
“I understand. It happens sometimes when a woman is pregnant.”
Reality rolled over Lola again in a wave of despair. “Does everyone know?”
“No, I’m sure there are people in Lima who haven’t heard—and Señora Juana’s in Ecuador, so I don’t think she knows yet.”
Lola had to smile. “Victoria says ladies don’t get pregnant they get…they are…I forget the word, but it’s French.”
Pilar laughed so hard she had to put the broth on the table to keep from spilling it. “Lola my innocent lamb, ladies get just as pregnant as anyone else when a man plants his seed in them—even French ladies.” Pilar picked up the spoon again. “You take your broth and I’ll explain what Enriqueta meant by neither of you marrying Rudolfo.” Obediently Lola opened her mouth and swallowed a spoonful of broth. Her stomach churned, but the feeling soon faded to insignificance as she listened to Pilar. “When you swooned your father realized what had happened. He grabbed his horse whip and stormed out to find Rudolfo.”
“Did he…?” Lola was too afraid of the possible answer to finish the question.
“…beat him to death? No. Rudolfo was gone—and so was your father’s favorite mare. The men said that they saw Rudolfo riding away just after siesta.”
“Then he never meant to marry either one of us, did he?” Lola began to sob again. “Why?”
“Who knows?” Pilar wiped the tears from Lola’s face. “Many men have appetites so powerful that they can’t control them. I’ve known that for many years.” She brought another spoonful of broth to Lola’s mouth. “It could be that Rudolfo couldn’t control his lust. Or something else entirely, like a way to get back at your father.”
“Get back at Papa for what? I thought Papa liked him. Why else would he train him as distillery master? Rudolfo said Papa wanted him for a son-in-law.”
“Rudolfo said a lot of things,” said Pilar. “Juan told me your father called him a lazy wastrel—in front of the men. Juan said that Rudolfo turned white with anger, but the nex
t day he acted like nothing had happened.” The spoon clinked against the bowl. “Well, look at this, the broth is all gone. Now just try to sip the tea and then get some rest. It’ll take time for your body to gain strength.”
“Was I really asleep for days?”
“Yes, Lamb, it’s been two long days. Your poor sister never left your side. Poor lambs the both of you.” Pilar gathered up the tray, promising to return later with more food. “Your father tossed me the keys as he left, and I intend to feed you two all sorts of good things. There’s nothing like good food to get a body moving again.”
At the thought of food Lola’s stomach reminded her that it was still queasy. She lay down to quiet it and was soon in a natural, though restless, sleep.
“Lola! Don’t leave me again!”
Lola’s eyes flew open and her breath came out in a whoosh as her sister landed on top of her. Her hands came up almost automatically and began tickling—a defense she had learned years ago when she realized she’d never be able to best Enriqueta in any physical struggle. The two wriggled and squirmed on the narrow bed until Enriqueta slid off and landed in a giggling heap on the floor.
“Don’t frighten me like that,” Enriqueta said when she got her breath back.
“I was just asleep. Can’t I ever sleep again as long as I live?” It felt so good to be friends with Enriqueta again—in spite of everything. “Pilar told me that Rudolfo ran away.”
“He slithered away like the snake that he is to crawl under a rock somewhere. Papa’s still out turning over rocks looking for him.”
“He’s been looking for two days?”
“Yes, but I have to go and tell Pilar you’re awake before I say any more.” Lola felt ambivalent about her father finding Rudolfo.
“Pilar’s spoiling you terribly,” Enriqueta said when she returned with two bowls of thick meaty stew and large slabs of fresh bread. “She made me promise not to talk unless you were eating—so pick up your spoon and start.” Lola complied.
“Father was livid. He offered a big reward to anyone who brought back Rudolfo. When he got back to the house, he was really worried to see you still senseless. Pilar had brought smelling salts, but that did no good. Father picked you up as easily as he would lift saddle to horse, and he carried you upstairs. He told me to stay with you and not to come out again.” Her voice quivered, and she paused before continuing. “He said he’d never been so disappointed in anyone of his own blood.” The two girls embraced for mutual comfort. Enriqueta wiped her eyes and resumed her narrative. “Pilar said he shoved food into his mouth as he changed and packed his saddlebags. He said not to expect him until we see him.”
“And he’s not back yet?”
Enriqueta shook her head. “But he took Roberto to do for him on the road.”
“Is Pilar worried?” Pilar was the ultimate source of wisdom in the house.
“No. She says it could take a few more days. He’s going to the Alvarez plantation, wherever that is.”
A high-pitched scream made the girls jump. Enriqueta ran through the door. Lola followed more slowly. She still felt a little wobbly. She looked over the balustrade and saw Juan standing near the front door supporting Rosa. Pilar and Dolores came running from the kitchen.
“What happened?” Enriqueta was already down the stairs and was bringing a chair for Rosa.
“I came to speak to Señora Jacoba,” said Juan. “Rosa told her, but Jacoba wouldn’t see me.”
“It’s Pepe,” Rosa said, sounding nearly hysterical.
Juan nodded. “Some of the men are still combing the plantation,” he glanced at the two girls, “hoping to collect the reward. They found Pepe in the woods near the river.”
Lola reached the bottom step. “Pepe? The old gardener? He was living in the woods?”
“Not exactly living in the woods.” Juan hesitated.
“He’s dead,” said Rosa. “He’s worse than dead.” She buried her face in her hands and started crying and rocking back and forth in the chair. Lola frowned. What’s worse than dead?
“His skull was smashed—he was killed,” said Juan.
Dolores began sobbing wildly. Pilar had tears running down her face, but she seemed calm. Enriqueta was pale, and Lola could see her shaking. “Pilar,” said Lola, “can you take Rosa and Dolores to the kitchen for a cup of tea?” Enriqueta grabbed Lola’s arm, threatening to pull Lola down with her as her knees weakened. “Juan, can you help me get Enriqueta upstairs?” By the time they reached the top of the stairs, Enriqueta was able to walk with Lola’s support.
“I need to speak to you, Señorita Lola,” Juan said as he released Enriqueta.
Lola gave a short nod. “Wait in the drawing room.” She got Enriqueta settled in bed. “I need to check on Rosa.” At Enriqueta’s nod, Lola hurried back downstairs. She looked in the kitchen and, although the women were still wiping their eyes and sniffling, Rosa and Dolores seemed calm enough. She hesitated. Should she ask one of the women to sit with her while she talked to Juan? It wouldn’t be proper for her to sit in the drawing room with a man and no chaperone. On the other hand, she really didn’t have a reputation to safeguard anymore, did she? She blinked back bitter tears at the thought.
Juan was still standing in the open foyer when she returned. He motioned to the chair Enriqueta had brought for Rosa. Grateful for his insight, Lola sat. That solved the chaperone problem.
“Señorita Lola, can you and Señorita Enriqueta attend Pepe’s funeral tomorrow?” He glanced toward the top of the stairs. “If Señorita Enriqueta isn’t strong enough, could you still come?”
“Tomorrow? Why so soon? Does he...” she wrinkled her nose.
“No. He’s probably been dead for two years. There was nothing but bones and bleached rags of clothing.”
“Then how do you know it’s Pepe?”
“From the hat, mainly.” Lola remembered Pepe’s hat. The brim slanted down and covered most of his face, unlike the hats of the other Cholos.
“Shouldn’t you wait for Papa?”
“The men’re uncomfortable waiting. They want the prayers said and holy water sprinkled on the grave as soon as possible. They’re afraid that Pepe...is not at rest. Pepe had no relatives, and no close friends. The family ought to be represented.”
“Won’t Jacoba be there?” asked Lola. Juan just looked at her. “What about Victoria or Amelia?” Juan’s silence answered her second question as well.
“Of course we’ll go.”
“Thank you.”
There was a short ceremony in the family chapel the next morning, attended by the girls, the house servants, Juan and six workers, who were standing stiffly at the back of the chapel. Jacoba, wearing a veil, came in and took a seat after the priest began speaking. The six men carried the coffin out to the far end of the family cemetery, followed by the small group of mourners.
“Let us pray,” intoned the priest. Lola looked up as a stiff breeze presaged a summer shower. Jacoba’s hand went up to grab at her veil, but not before Lola saw a huge purple bruise on her cheek. Lola quickly looked down at her clasped hands, hoping that Jacoba’s swollen eye had not seen her glance. So that was why Jacoba refused to leave her room.
~ ~ ~
Lola woke to the sound of her father’s voice outside her door. She sat up, intending to go to him and tell him how glad she was that he had returned safely. By the time she had her shawl around her shoulders, she realized her father and Pilar were in a heated, if quiet, discussion. She sat to wait until they finished.
“...I’ve always considered myself a small part of this family, but if this is the way you treat family, I can’t live here anymore. Find a new cook.”
“You dare speak to me like that?”
“Yes, I dare. One week. Those poor lambs are the only family I have now, and we both know whose fault that is.”
“Don’t talk about ancient history. Your husband knew the penalty for taking advantage of an innocent girl. I did what I had to do. I had him carr
ied home to be stitched after the gelding. You should thank me for ridding you of the cheating bastard.” Lola recoiled in spite of herself at hearing her father use such language.
“My husband was a strong man, Patrón. He preferred death to living without his manhood. By the time the men were able to hold him, the life had bled out of him. But we both know that my husband was neither the first nor the last man to have appetites he couldn’t control. He was neither the first nor the last man to cheat on a loving wife who forgave him all things.”
“Watch your tongue, woman, you tread in dangerous territory.” The sound of her father’s icy voice sent a shiver through Lola.
“One week,” said Pilar again. Lola heard the sound of footsteps retreating. She went back to bed and feigned sleep when Pilar returned and sat by the bed.
Lola stayed very still for a long time, listening as Pilar wept quietly in the dark. The conversation she had overheard filled her with questions—about herself and Enriqueta, about Pilar’s husband, about what her father had done while away. The more she thought about it, the more questions popped into her mind—yet she was not willing to intrude on Pilar’s grief.
The next morning a nervous Rosa brought their breakfast tray and told them their father expected them in the library after breakfast. Lola’s fear settled like a rock on top of her usual queasy stomach.
“Papa’s really angry with us, isn’t he?” said Enriqueta.
Lola nodded. Now she was sorry she hadn’t asked Pilar any questions last night.
~ ~ ~
“Good morning, Papa.” The two girls held hands as they stood in the doorway to the library.
“Come in.” Enrique was sitting at his desk. He gestured to chairs in front of him. The girls sat.
“I hope you realize how badly you have disgraced yourselves, me, and the entire Herrera family.” Lola swallowed convulsively, hoping her stomach would behave. “You have besmirched the honor of a noble family that has held the trust of kings for generations. The consequences of your actions could stretch far beyond the boundaries of this plantation.” Enrique paused and stared at each girl for long seconds, as though to emphasize his words. “Jacoba, bring me the bible.” Lola was startled as Jacoba emerged from a dark corner in the rear of the library carrying the huge bible that was only brought out for special occasions. She set it down on the desk.
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