by Mingmei Yip
“After Penelope’s passing,” said Alfredo, “I’ve been waiting in this Heartbreak Castle hoping to find someone to mend, or better, capture my heart. I believe you came here in answer to my prayers.”
Was he really that lonely, or did he want something else from me? He was an appealing man, but given what I’d heard about him I did not want to be further entangled with him, let alone share his bed or his life.
Seeing that I was not about to answer, he smiled. “Eileen, take some time to think about my proposal. Our future son will be very fortunate. As my heir, he’ll get my business, this castle, and everything else I can give him.”
I was quite tempted, but what if our baby was a daughter? And though Alfredo seemed not to know about Luis, Sabrina’s stolen baby might show up and complicate matters.
He went on with a philosophical air. “You know, Eileen, women are like ships who need a safe harbor to moor. No matter how fancy or gorgeous a ship is, if she can’t find the right harbor, she will drift aimlessly forever. Think of all the dangers one faces in life.”
I wondered if this was some kind of threat and was not reassured by him saying, “Just think of all the hazards one might encounter at sea—sharks, giant squids, towering waves, hidden rocks, typhoons . . . Excitement and adventure seem tempting, but eventually a woman needs a place where she is safe.”
He paused to see my reaction, then went on. “And I can give you a secure life.”
Like you gave Penelope, I thought. Her ghost had asked me to write her name on a paper ship. She’d wanted the paper ship to bring her back to Alfredo, even though he had treated her badly. I sighed inside.
Other women would have already jumped at this once-in-a-lifetime bonanza dropping from Heaven. But if I believed the rumors, it wasn’t a bonanza and certainly not from Heaven. Probably all of us do need a safe harbor eventually, not just women. But before coming to the harbor there should be a voyage—and that’s where I was in my life. I believed my sails were lifted by the wind and my ship had a long way to travel before it was time to seek the shore.
“Well, think about my proposal before you give me your answer. In the meantime, Maria has set a table for us outside, so let’s enjoy our lunch,” Alfredo said.
During the meal we talked small talk, but there was tension due to his still-unanswered offer of marriage. Laolao seemed to be right that rich men would want me, but she had not warned me that I might not want them. Before I could even imagine considering Alfredo’s proposal, there was something I knew I had to tell him.
There was no easy way to bring up the subject, so I said bluntly, “Alfredo, maybe you already have a son somewhere.”
I could see that this caught him off guard. To compound his shock, I went on. “Sabrina told me she had a son with you.”
It took a few seconds before he answered. “Yes, she said it was mine. A few months after we’d split, she brought a baby boy to me and claimed I was the father. Since you know Sabrina, you know it may have been another man’s child. Because I’m rich, she’d pick me as the father over some Bohemian wastrel. But I didn’t know for sure so I paid for her house—they were cheap in those days—and also gave her a little money every month.”
Although this sounded like a kind gesture—it could keep her quiet about his illegitimate child.
“However, one day she told me that the baby had been stolen by Nathalia. When I confronted Nathalia about it, she said she’d never even known about Sabrina’s pregnancy. Most of what that witch says is a lie, however. So who knows?”
“What happened to the baby?”
“No one knows. I was young then and I didn’t really care. However, I did ask around and try to track him down. But no one knew anything. Or so they said. Nathalia has a very fearsome reputation as a witch and people here are superstitious. Anyone who thought she was involved would be terrified to say anything.”
He shook his head and let out a sigh. “It makes me sad so I try not to think about him. Even if the baby is still alive, I have no idea where—or how I could tell if he’s really mine.”
“Alfredo.” I looked him in the eyes. “I think I know where your son is. . . .”
He looked at me as if I had just arrived from a UFO—these islands were famous for alien landings.
“Eileen, please don’t joke about this!”
“I wouldn’t joke about it, Alfredo. Let me explain.” I told him about my stay in the soon-to-be-vanished village. I went on to tell him about the pendant that Sabrina had told me about and that seemed to be the same one I’d seen Luis wearing.
When I had finished, Alfredo exclaimed, “Yes, I know about the village. But I thought it was completely deserted a long time ago.”
“It will be soon, but there are six people who still live there: Luis, his grandpa, Father Fernando, Juan, and the two widows.”
“Could this Luis really be my son? How could he have ended up in a place like that? That pendant sounds like a gift I gave Sabrina when we were together. For protection—she believed in things like that.”
He stared intensely into my eyes. “So you made friends with Luis—who may be my son—in that tiny village?”
I nodded. “He’s a nice young man. Good for you if he’s your son.”
From his dazed eyes came a spark of hope. “I want to go to the village as soon as possible. Can you come with me?”
I nodded. “Alfredo, can I ask you another question?”
“Go ahead.”
“You also had a daughter?”
“She wasn’t really my daughter. . . .”
“What do you mean?” I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear his response.
“I adopted Sabrina’s daughter, Isabelle, but informally, not legally. Anyway, it all happened twenty years ago, and Isabelle died in an accident. She drowned while diving.”
“Were you close to Isabelle?”
He didn’t respond. Maria had told me that Penelope had also died of a freak accident. There seemed to be one too many convenient accidents. I was scared now that he’d realize I knew too much, so I decided to change the subject.
“Can you tell me about Nathalia? I’ve met her, but I need to know more for my book. You know, it’s not easy to run across a real witch.”
“I know her, but I don’t know her well.”
“She’s now called Cecily. I have no idea where she’s gone. A woman at the Witches’ Market told me she left because she fears for her life.”
“How’s that?”
“Because Sabrina’s ghost may come after her.”
He laughed. “If a ghost is coming after her, there’s no way she can hide. It’s much more likely whom she fears is not a ghost, but a human.”
“But whom?”
“That I don’t know. She’s a wicked woman. She cast spells on many innocent people. She has many enemies.”
After that, my potential husband abruptly stood up. “Let’s not talk anymore about unpleasant matters. Why don’t we put aside these past tragedies and enjoy our lives? Eileen, please seriously consider my proposal. Perhaps you think I am too old for you, but a mature man knows how to make a woman happy.”
Of course his age was not my main concern, but it was easier if that was what he thought.
“Maria has made up the room for you,” he said. “You look tired, so feel free to take a nap. And don’t worry, I will give you time to decide.”
28
Cecily’s Ritual
I’d slept soundly all afternoon, but as a result was unable to fall asleep again when night came. So I put on a sweater and stepped outside to see if a walk in the cool air would relax me. It was overcast with only a few stars pathetically shining through. A light breeze blew from the sea, soothing my frazzled nerves. The silence was occasionally broken by birds’ cries, or distant barking. Walking for minutes I spotted the pond where I’d encountered Cecily and the other witches.
Through the trees surrounding the water I saw a figure, indistinct in the mo
onlight but substantial enough to be a human rather than a ghost. As I approached I saw that it was Cecily, this time by herself.
Cecily. Formerly Nathalia.
I slipped behind a tree to watch. On the ground was an area in the shape of a five-pointed star outlined by candles stuck into the earth. In the center, revealed by the flickering candlelight, was a crude wooden doll of a mother holding a baby. Cecily wore a cape and also a black hat, pointed like a traditional witch’s hat, but with a wider brim that partly concealed her face.
She threw some powder on the doll and began to dance around the altar as she chanted in a low voice what seemed to be names of ancient gods. She continued this weird performance, then paused and from a basket extracted a live chicken. I knew what would come next and was tempted to look away but decided I needed to observe the sacrifice for documentation in my book.
Cecily lifted the bird up to the sky, then brought it down toward the earth. Mumbling another spell, she took out a sharp knife and, with a practiced hand, cut off its head. Blood spurted onto Cecily’s hands as she set the poor bird—still quivering—on the altar, no doubt as an offering to some unknown, likely evil deity.
Next she took out a small jar of water and sprinkled it over the space. She continued to chant and pray, then flopped on the ground, rolling her eyes so only the whites could be seen. This was creepy, for she looked like she was transforming into a living corpse. All her strength seemed to have been consumed by the unpleasant ritual, but I still feared to approach, because I suspected she had endless reserves of evil energy.
I didn’t think Cecily would be well disposed toward me when she realized that I had seen her ceremony, chicken sacrifice included. Her reaction was likely to be quite unpleasant. But this could be my opportunity to question her, and being caught in the act might loosen her tongue. I approached, making some noise so as to warn her of my presence.
When she spotted me, I said, “Cecily, is that you? I was just out for a walk. How are you?” Then I looked down at the lump of feathers and blood.
Even in the faint light I could see that she was not at all happy to see me here.
“Eileen! What are you doing here! Spying on me, are you?” She jumped up, glaring at me.
I didn’t like her rudeness, but I didn’t want to tangle with her either. I backed away, holding my hands out in a placating gesture.
“I’m staying at the castle, so I often go out for walks.”
“You know this is my special place for rituals. When I met you the first time I invited you here, but I never said you could come back.”
“Well, I’m here. Actually, I looked for you in your cave, but you moved out.”
“Because I want to be left alone. But since you are here, join me in the ritual.”
“I can’t, not with a sacrificed chicken. . . .”
“Ah, Americans, so concerned about animals—except when dinnertime comes.”
“Maybe. For Chinese, blood sacrifice is to appease the dead. So who are you trying to appease—someone you wronged?”
I surprised myself by talking back to her like this. Previously I would not have dared. This made me realize how my stay here had changed me. With my third eye opened and having conversed with ghosts, I seemed to be getting braver.
“If you’re bothered by a dead chicken, just leave. There are curses. . . .”
I ignored her threat. “This is someone else’s property, so you’re trespassing. And I know why you’re here.”
“Really?”
“My third eye opened. Now I know a lot of things . . . that you used to be Nathalia, for example.”
I was pleased to see that I’d actually succeeded in scaring her.
“I think I have a pretty good idea of what you are doing here,” I continued. “Something to do with the woman you drove to drink, which killed her. Your one-time romantic rival, Sabrina Sanchez, right?”
“Just leave me alone, will you?!”
I didn’t know where my courage came from as I went on. “Sabrina told me about your stealing her baby boy. That’s what this carving of a mother holding a baby is for. To keep Sabrina from coming after you from the yin world! Good luck—it’s not going to be so easy for you.
“And there’s her daughter, Isabelle. I bet you had something to do with her demise too. She’s now a restless ghost. She came to me again. However, it’s not me she’s after, but you.” Especially, I thought, if Cecily was the one who’d pushed Isabelle into the lake.
I could tell I’d gotten her attention because she asked, almost pleading, “What did she say?”
“Isabelle’s ghost is looking to find out if she was murdered. You better do some more rituals and hope they’ll leave you alone.”
“You weren’t here when it happened. Everyone knows that Isabelle drowned, period. And I had nothing to with it!”
Maybe Cecily didn’t. But I also noticed she didn’t deny contributing to Sabrina’s ruin. I was no closer to an answer, but since Cecily was so vehement in her denial, she moved to the top of my list. Alfredo moved down, but was still a suspect.
“How are you so sure she drowned if you weren’t involved?” I asked.
“It was in the newspaper and no one said otherwise.”
“Or you arranged it to look like an accident. And if you didn’t do it, who did?”
We remained silent for some minutes.
She vigorously shook her head. “No, it’s been twenty years and there’s no evidence of foul play. And why are you so interested anyway? You’re just a tourist; it has nothing to do with you. So forget about it and go back to your little tryst with Alfredo!”
“I made a promise to Isabelle.”
“Ha, to a dead person? In your dreams?” She chuckled nervously.
“As a witch, you should know these things are real.”
She had no answer for this and remained silent, looking scared and worn-out. Since I seemed to have succeeded in intimidating her, at least for now, I pressed on. “Cecily, did you steal Sabrina’s baby son?”
I could tell by her expression that I’d hit home.
“How did you know?”
“Hahaha!” I laughed mirthlessly. “So what Sabrina told me is true!”
“What did she tell you?”
“Everything. You’re the witch she hired to cast a love spell on Alfredo. You took her money, then took her man, and then her baby boy too. No wonder she took to drink.”
“You think you know everything? There’s nothing you can do.”
“What was the baby’s name?”
“How do I know what the priest named him? He was messed up, that baby!”
“So you just threw him away!”
“No, I didn’t. I left him at a church so he’d get a good Christian upbringing.”
“That’s a laugh. When’s the last time you were in a church? You’d be afraid to go, after all you’ve done.”
There was actually an expression of fear on her face. For all her paganism, she’d been born Catholic in a Catholic country and must have some residual anxiety after going over to the dark side.
But fortunately Luis, if he was the abandoned baby, had grown up healthy, handsome, and hardworking. But I was certainly not going to tell the witch. She was quite capable of using a spell to take him back.
“Miss-Asian-knows-it-all, leave me alone, right now!” Cecily screamed angrily.
Again, I didn’t know where my courage came from, for I replied, “Or what? You’ll cast spells on me? Use black magic?”
She cast me a dirty look instead. “You’re just a crazy woman! I don’t have time to talk to someone like you!”
With that, she turned her back on me, gathered up the candles and the doll, and vanished into the night.
PART FOUR
29
The Long-Lost Son
Now that I was certain Cecily had taken Sabrina’s baby, I had the difficult task of informing Alfredo. Perhaps he would be happy to hear that his son was alive and had
turned out okay—but then again, he might be heartbroken because of the lost years.
When I returned to the castle, I told Maria I needed to speak with Señor Alfrenso about something important. She brought me into the study and soon Alfredo arrived, looking worried. When I reminded him that I’d found his son, his eyes became as round as two kumquats.
I explained that Sabrina’s baby had been stolen by Nathalia, but that for some reason she had abandoned him at the village church.
“Oh, God, why would she do that?”
“Because she thought he was sick and would bring her bad luck. Maybe she’d thought if the baby died she’d be accused of murder.”
He seemed lost in thought for several minutes, then asked, “How do you know all this?”
“I started asking around and was able to piece it together.”
He put his head in his hands, looking very upset. For a minute I was afraid he would cry and embarrass himself in front of me.
“Oh, God! Oh, God! I still can’t believe this! I have a son living right next to me and never knew about him? How did that happen! These women . . . no end of trouble,” he exclaimed.
Finally he lifted his head, but now he was smiling. “So you really think my son is alive and well?”
I nodded.
“What does he look like?”
“You’re lucky, Alfredo. Luis grew up to be a very nice and handsome young man. He’s a skilled furniture maker, and he also loves to read and learn.”
“A reader and a furniture maker?”
“Yes, he may have been sick as a baby, but he’s strong and healthy now.”
“So after all, it’s good that I was with Sabrina, as now I have a son and an heir! Tell me exactly how you found Luis.”
“It really was just by chance. I wanted to find Past Life Lake and on the way I walked through the little village. Luis was working in his backyard, so we struck up a conversation. I ended up staying with him and his grandpa, who taught me sculpting.”