The Music Trilogy

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The Music Trilogy Page 52

by Kahn, Denise

“Yeah, don’t mention it,” he said.

  Zeferino could not stop his tears. “It was all for nothing,” he said. “It’s my fault, and Uncle Mario is dead. I killed your only relative.”

  “No, no, my son, do not blame yourself. It was a good try. There is something I must tell you about Mario. He was very proud of you, as if you were indeed his nephew. Before we left Brazil, he told me he knew he would be killed. Yes, yes, that’s the way he wanted it.”

  “I don’t understand. He told you that he wanted to die?”

  “Yes.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “We talked about your mother for a long time and about her illness. He had followed her decline as I had, something I didn’t know he had done, but then Mario always knew everything that went on. He knew he would be killed. That is the way he wanted to die. Mario knew of your mother’s suffering, and he didn’t want that. He knew he was dying. He only had a few months to live and he did not want to spend them suffering in a hospital bed.”

  “What was his real name?”

  “Mario. Mario da Cunha.”

  “Our name?”

  “Yes, we shared that too,” Carlos said slowly as the tears he had been holding back finally came.

  “Pai, do you think we could bury him next to Mother?”

  “Yes, that would be nice. I know they both will like that, and they’ll be able to talk about me.”

  ♫

  CHAPTER 46

  Davina Walters kept returning to the piano and her new song, which by now obsessed her. She had written a page of verses, most of them scratched out. She returned to the page. The day we met, mon amour, our feelings… She crumpled up the page and threw it. She began to write on a clean page. Mi amor, luz de mi corazon… My love, light of my heart…

  She played the melody with the fingers of one hand, hoping Alejandro would return and sit with her again on the piano bench, an arm around her shoulders. Their song.

  The ringing telephone interrupted her. She could not place the voice on the other end of the line.

  “It’s Zeferino, Davina.”

  “Zeferino, what a nice surprise. How are you?”

  He told her exactly how he was. He told her about the shoot-out with Simon Grady. “I’ve got some torn up ligaments in the thigh, but I’ll get back to normal. Eventually.”

  “Is there anything I can bring you, anything you need?”

  “No, carinho, and no, you cannot come to see me. It’s too dangerous. Grady is still out there. But there is something you can do. I want to run something by you.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m going to be laid up for awhile. What do you think of Jean Conrad helping me out, not exactly as a nurse but something like that? It would get her out of that restaurant. Do you think she would?”

  “I don’t know, Zeferino. Jean doesn’t talk to me any more.”

  “You mean she doesn’t want to put your life in any more danger.”

  “She blames me for the Orange Bowl explosion.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “Maybe not,” Davina said, almost as a whisper.

  “What did you say? Davina, listen to me. Jean knows Grady won’t stop. She knows he’s going to try again to kill her and anyone connected to her. She’s only trying to protect you. And her baby.”

  “Her what?”

  “She is carrying the baby of her former fiancé, that man who died in the explosion.”

  “Rodrigo.” Davina was suddenly flooded with a bittersweet feeling of joy and sadness. A del Valle was living inside of Jean. Why couldn’t it be her?

  Zeferino convinced Davina to call Jean because it wouldn’t be right for him to. Tell her they had talked about Jean being his nurse. Jean needed help now, especially with the baby. And he had to know what her feelings for him were. Because most people wait a lifetime for a second chance.

  Davina called Jean at the number Zeferino had given her.

  “Los Pollos.”

  “May I speak to Jean Conrad?”

  “Jean! She’s busy.”

  “Will you give her a message?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tell her Zeferino is at Jackson Memorial.”

  “Just a minute. Jean!”

  “Hello,” Jean said.

  “Jean, this is Davina.”

  Jean had imagined herself two nights ago calling Davina to tell her that she was safe now because Grady was dead. She imagined herself telling Davina about the baby and how proud she was of the life growing inside her. She always thought Davina would be the godmother. She would have asked her then to be the godmother. But now this was out of the question. “I can’t talk to you.”

  “Why not, Jean?

  “I can’t talk to you.”

  “Wait! Don’t hang up and listen to me for a minute.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you. I never want to talk to you again!”

  “You wait just one goddamn minute!”

  Jean, who had never seen Davina angry or heard her utter an angry word, was stunned.

  “I’m calling for Zeferino. Do you know he was shot?”

  “Zeferino?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is he…?” She held the phone so tight that her knuckles turned white.

  “He’s going to be okay.”

  “Oh, God… Not again, not again.”

  ”Jean, listen. He’s at Jackson Memorial and he…”

  The line went dead.

  Jean did not tell anyone she was leaving before her shift was up. She just left, still wearing her apron. She went to the nearest hotel and got a taxi.

  Zeferino seemed to be asleep. Jean went to his bedside.

  “Zeferino?” He opened his eyes. “Zeferino, I didn’t know. It was so dark. I thought, I… It’s my fault.”

  “No, no, Jean,” he said stretching his arms out to her. “You didn’t shoot me.”

  “I’m the one who led you to Simon. He did it again! Will this ever stop?” He held her as she cried.

  “I’m fine. It was only a little bullet, but I’m going to be laid up for awhile.” They both remembered the last time they had been in each other’s arms. “So, what do you think about my proposition?”

  Jean sat up straight. “What proposition?”

  “Didn’t Davina tell you?”

  “I’m afraid I didn’t give her much of a chance to. She said you had been shot and then I just put the phone down and I came here.”

  “I’ll be out of here in a few days but I still have to be off my feet. So I’m going to need some help. I thought maybe you could… well, you know… help.”

  “Of course I’ll help but you know, I’m not a nurse.”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  “And Simon… In case you haven’t noticed, whoever is around me gets hurt or killed.”

  “Would you say yes if Simon was out of the picture?”

  “I guess so.”

  “No, please tell me, yes or no?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. You are a marked woman but what you haven’t realized is that I too am marked. Simon saw me last night and he will probably try to get me as well. As you say here in the States, we are in the same boat. So it would actually be better if we were together. It’s more difficult to kill two people than it is one, so in a way we will protect each other.” Jean looked at him not wanting to say anything. She liked the deal but she was still apprehensive. “Besides,” he continued, “I don’t like the idea of you being alone. That’s too dangerous. Jean, I worry. We can protect each other. And the baby.”

  “You remembered.”

  “Of course. I remember everything from that night we had together.” Jean’s eyes softened. “So, we have a deal?”

  “We have a deal,” she said and took his hands in hers.

  ♫

  CHAPTER 47

  Davina told Monique she would not be joining her and Jacques for dinner. She had no appetite. She could feel another one of
those headaches coming on.

  “As you wish, chérie,” Monique said.

  “I’m sorry for being so… such a bad hostess. Will you explain to Jacques.”

  “He understands.”

  “Explain what to Jacques?” Jacques asked, entering the living room. He exchanged a knowing look with his wife and he nodded almost imperceptibly.

  “Davina was about to retire for the night,” Monique said.

  “Before you go,” Jacques said, “I have a surprise for you.”

  “I don’t know that I can take another surprise,” Davina said. “Is it big or little?”

  “It’s in my pocket,” he said, smiling.

  Davina looked into his eyes and saw gentleness and love. “Alright.”

  “Alright then, here it is,” Jacques said, handing her a folded piece of paper.

  Davina unfolded the paper and read it.

  Remember the secret of the fox

  It is only with the heart that one can see rightly;

  what is essential is invisible to the eye.

  A thousand images of Alejandro flashed through her mind. She held the paper tightly in her trembling hand and slowly looked at Jacques with tears in her eyes. Was he dead? Or was he alive? She suddenly knew.

  “Take me to him,” she said very quietly.

  “Davina chérie, he is here…” Jacques said softly.

  “At the house?” She asked, almost inaudibly.

  “Yes.” She closed her eyes. “He has been hurt, but the doctors say in time he will be fine. Don’t be afraid of what you see.”

  She pictured him, alive but badly scarred. “He’s alive,” Davina whispered.

  “On the patio.”

  Alejandro was sitting in a wheelchair on a special air cushion. He had been watching anxiously through the curtains. Tears streamed down his face. He held up his bandaged arms to Davina. He had dreamed of this moment for so long.

  Davina ran to him and fell to her knees before him. “You are so handsome,” she said through her tears. His tears came so copiously that he could hardly see her. She caressed his face, his perfectly unharmed face. “Oh, my beautiful fox. How I have missed you. I need you.” Alejandro kissed her deeply.

  They spent virtually every moment of every day together. Davina nursed him, catered adoringly to his every desire. She was with him for his periodic visits to the Burn Center. On one of these visits to the hospital, Alejandro walked out on crutches. He no longer needed the wheelchair. The final bandages were removed during that visit. The doctors had done an incredible job. Alejandro had no visible scars. When he walked into the recording studio with Davina that day, Jacques poured champagne to celebrate.

  “Adieu to the wheelchair,” Jacques said, raising his glass in a toast. “You look fantastique, Alejandro!”

  He did look great, Davina thought. He looked delicious. She wanted to devour him. Alejandro could feel her desire. He had not told her about his impotence.

  Davina’s musicians were glad to be back together again. They were like a family. They worked for two weeks recording her new album, and Davina, Monique and Jacques spent endless hours cutting, editing and re-recording the voice-overs.

  Davina called her new CD Obsession of the Heart. It was distinctly international and dedicated to her fans and those she loved. Light of My Heart, the song she had written about her love for Alejandro, was in English and Spanish. Others were in French and Greek, and in turn dedicated to her parents and her godmother. Noble Terra de mi Coraçao (Noble Land of My Heart) was in Portuguese. Davina composed it based on a folksong a little girl in a Brazilian rainforest had sung to her long ago. Davina dedicated it to Zeferino da Cunha. Yet another, in French, J’attendrais, was for Jacques and Monique.

  The release of the new CD was timed to coincide with a new world tour for Davina. She would be singing on four continents - North America, Europe, Australia and Asia. “You will dazzle them on fifty-six stages,” Jacques said.

  The Black Angel would again be their carrier. Adam Spencer said he and Eric Shannon were eager to get flying again, although both men had done a fair amount of moving around. Adam sold his house in the woods of northern Maine and moved to Haifa, and Eric bid his beloved Sally adieu to set up house with Penelope in Athens. And Bianca had moved in with Faydon.

  There was still one final song to record for the album. This was Light of My Heart. Davina usually did several takes, sometimes many, of a single song. But this song needed no redoing and no changes. The recording was perfect on the first cut, and everyone present knew that immediately. When Davina sang it, she sang to Alejandro. Mi amor, luz de mi corazon…

  When she finished, Alejandro felt as light as a cloud, as if he could fly to the stars, to his star. If Davina had not rushed to embrace him first, he was sure he could have flown into her arms. Everyone in the studio felt the power of the piece, and the invisible magic that charged the recording room. No one spoke; no one wanted that magic to end. Jacques held up his hands to indicate that this was a wrap. It was time for all of them to go home. Job well done.

  The musicians silently put away their instruments, taking care not to disturb Davina and Alejandro in their long embrace.

  That night, after getting into bed together, Alejandro whispered into Davina ear: “Mi amor, luz de mi corazon.” He caressed her firm sensuous body and hungrily kissed her. She returned his kisses with just as much passion. To his surprise and delight, he did not have to worry about making love. Little Alejandro was his old self again and eager to get back to work.

  ♫

  CHAPTER 48

  Jean’s unborn baby brought a great deal of joy to her and to Zeferino, although it must be said that the joy they felt was already present with the love they had for each other. They had moved in together, ostensibly so that Jean could assist Zeferino while he was confined to bed. She did act as his nurse but what she did could hardly be called a job. When Zeferino’s leg healed, he declared that he would now take on Jean’s old job and become her nurse. Jean was in remission but because of her previous condition, the baby brought a possible new risk to her health. Zeferino took Jean to the doctor for regular check ups. He wanted to be the child’s father and he wanted to be Jean’s husband. Jean happily agreed to Zeferino being the father, but she would not marry him, not until Simon was caught. He was still at large and dangerous. The media seemed to have forgotten about him but the police had not. A plainclothes policeman was still assigned to Jean, around the clock.

  Zeferino stopped trying to change Jean’s mind about marrying him. He accepted but did not entirely understand her almost fanatical fear of Simon Grady. She truly believed that anyone connected to her was in danger. She could not live with this fear forever, he told himself. Once the baby was born, he thought, her fears would subside and life would get back to normal and they could be with friends and family. But for now, he accepted their situation. They lived as if in a cocoon. All that was important was their love for each other and their baby.

  The closer Jean got to her due date, the more crazy cravings she had. These could be entertaining, at least to Zeferino. She’d had cravings for peppermint ice cream and hot dogs, followed by an insatiable longing for crushed ice and olives, the green ones with tiny bits of pimento in the middle. Then she suddenly wanted cheese with jalapeños. Zeferino went to the store to get some. What is it that causes pregnant women to get these urges? He wondered and laughed to himself. He recognized the guard parked in front of the house. Zeferino waved. The guard nodded.

  Jean turned on the television to hear the local news. In the entertainment segment, a reporter interviewed Davina Walters. You could tell the reporter was captivated by her. He was obviously a fan. He sounded a little silly, like a kid at his first Christmas, or like a teenager getting the chance of a lifetime to be with the woman of his dreams. Davina looked, as always, beautiful and very much in charge. She talked about her upcoming tour.

  A noise, as if something heavy had been dropped, made Jean tu
rn the TV down. She looked out the front window. All seemed normal. The police guard’s car was parked on the street. She looked out the kitchen window and she recognized the guard. He was lying on the back deck. His eyes were shut.

  Jean’s heart raced as she went to the phone. The crippling effects of panic had already begun to take. She tried to remember what buttons on the telephone to push. What were those numbers? She pushed numbers, seven numbers.

  “Hello?” Davina said.

  ♫

  EPILOGUE

  Before she even entered the house, Davina could hear Jean screaming. She looked in the window. Simon Grady was trying to get at Jean, who was very pregnant. He was turning over pieces of furniture as she ran and he tried to corner her. When he caught up to her, he hit her in the face with his open hand. Then he punched her in the stomach and Jean fell to the floor, doubled over. He pulled out the gun that was tucked in the back of his jeans.

  Davina was petrified, almost to the point of being paralyzed. She willed her limbs to move. She opened the front door. She held a cocked gun, a .45, in both hands.

  “Put it down!” she screamed. “Put the gun down!”

  “Well, if it isn’t bitch number two,” Grady said and laughed.

  “I’ll use this if I have to,” Davina said, trying her best to control her trembling. “Jean, get out of the way!”

  Grady aimed his gun at Davina. But she was quicker. She pulled the trigger first. Grady flew back onto the wall behind him. He crawled to his knees and aimed the gun again at Davina. He changed his mind. He aimed it at Jean.

  “No!” Davina screamed.

  Before he could squeeze the trigger, Davina fired a second time. Grady slumped down onto the floor but he still wasn’t dead. He held up his gun at Davina again.

  Davina shot again, and again, and again.

  Jean went to where he lay. She kicked him as hard as she could, and then again and again, duplicating the shots Davina had fired, wishing she had been the one to kill him.

 

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