The Santero

by Kim Rodriguez

  As dire as the situation could have been, I couldn’t help but think she looked cute as hell, her resolve not to let go of that cab stirring all the usual lustful urges in me. I’d have to take it very slow when we were finally alone. Oh, to be under that leg.

  “What happened?” she asked, breathless from the adrenalin.

  “No rush now,” I said, palming her ass as I nudged her into the cab.

  “What did you do?” She bounced to the far side of the bench and I slid in beside her, taking my first real breath since I’d been here.

  “Nothing. He backed off.” Amada looked sideways at me as if she couldn’t believe it had been as simple as that, but then it occurred to me that my tendency to shield her from the less conventional side of my life was what got us in this mess in the first place. From here forward, I had to be honest with her about everything, so that no one could ever come between us again. “Actually, there’s more to it. I’ll explain later.”

  “He’s not okay, is he?” she asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. I shook my head, then searched her eyes for any trace of contempt or disdain. If she couldn’t distinguish between senseless violence and self-preservation, we were going to have a problem. In response, Amada simply slipped her hand in to mine and gave it a good squeeze.

  “Acere,” I said, using the distinctly Cuban word for friend. I leaned forward as the driver pulled into traffic, and dropping all pretense spoke to him in my usual manner, chatting about his family and everyone’s favorite sport, baseball. On the way out of the cab, Amada gave him all the cash we had, and when I handed him my baseball cap, he accepted it with great excitement, boasting that his son would be the only one on his team to have one. Moved, I asked him for a business card, and when he passed me a scrap of paper with his name and address, I told him their team now had a sponsor, and to be on the lookout for a delivery of uniforms and equipment very soon.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The flight home was quick and uneventful, and even though Rafa and I wanted nothing more than to curl up with each other in a ball and never let go, we kept some semblance of dignity on the congressman’s plane. There was no mistaking Esteban’s elation when I sprung out of the cab on the tarmac, momentarily followed by Rafa, who hung back an extra minute to get something from the driver. I stood halfway between the plane and the taxi and watched him lean into the window, wanting him like never before, but the congressman called out.

  “Inside, señorita,” he said, waving me over, then pointing at Rafa. “Him too.”

  On the plane, Rafa, Esteban and I sat together in a grouping of four seats, a good distance away from the aides. I thought we’d finally have some privacy, but Esteban unapologetically positioned himself across from us, just as interested in how I ended up in Cuba. The forty-five minute flight was barely long enough for the three of us to talk, but even so, by the time we reached Miami I could feel we’d formed some sort of unique bond. It became clear to me that Esteban had taken a personal interest in Rafa, and now he listened intently as I explained the most personal details of my Cuban detour, beginning with how Demarais had paid Charlotte’s friends in cocaine to lie and say he was an old friend. Rafa flinched when I said I was already half way there when I realized Achille was a drug dealer.

  “I’m so sorry for not telling you sooner,” he said, his eyes still roaming my body as if looking for the slightest indication I was hurt. “I thought a warning about him would be enough, but I should have explained why, for your own safety.”

  “You had no way of knowing the lengths he would go to, or that I’d ever be in a state of mind to question you.” I leaned in, still in disbelief of what I’d learned, straight from Achille’s mouth. “Rafa, he admitted he set you up with that redhead. I can’t believe I was so stupid as to believe—”

  “To believe your eyes?” said Rafa. “I would have reacted the same way.” He paused and exchanged a glance with Esteban, as if looking for moral support. “The woman put something in my drink, but I still haven’t figured out how. Doña Delfina said it was a hallucinogen he had prepared for me in Haiti. I was so scared he’d given you the same thing, Amada, in order to . . . do to you what she did to me.”

  “How far did it go?” I asked, clasping his hand. Now that I knew Rafa’s encounter had been non-consensual, I started thinking like him. Horrible things could have happened.

  “It was all about the picture, baby. She left right after that. But she could have done anything to me in my condition. I was lucky too.” I remembered how badly I’d wanted to kill the redhead on his lap, and now I knew every instinct I had was correct. None of this would have happened if that asshole hadn’t stopped me.

  “Rafa, I was going to go back in, but Mauricio wouldn’t let me. He pushed me into the car and wouldn’t let me go back inside. I kicked and screamed, and he still forced me to go home.” My blood started boiling at the memory of how he restrained me. “You better tell every one of those guys never to lay a hand on me again,” I warned. “How dare he?’

  “Oh, I have.” Rafa’s lips curled into a smirk. “Mauricio thought he was doing the right thing, but I’ve made his life miserable this week for it, believe me. If he weren’t related to Sandro—” Then he paused a moment, as if something had occurred to him. “Amada, what I haven’t been able figure out is why you went to Madrina’s that night with Mauricio. You never just show up like that.”

  “Lisa called. She said there was a problem with a delivery. She implied you’d be upset, so I should come over and calm you down.”

  “There was no delivery issue. She was in on it,” he said with a sigh.

  “She allowed a total stranger inside Madrina’s and let her drug you?” I put my hand over my mouth, shocked. “Why would she do that? Money?”

  “Lisa is the girlfriend of a trusted associate,” he said to Esteban. “He’s fine, but I know she’d like to see Amada and I split up.” Rafa turned his attention to me. “She’s had a crush on me for a long time.”

  “Oh. You never told me that.” I felt the same jealous feelings bubble up again, in spite of everything that had happened. When would the attention of other women toward Rafa stop affecting me so deeply?

  “I was hoping she was over it now that she was with Sal. And I wanted you to be friends. Another mistake on my part.” Even though he was obviously angry at himself for being fooled, Rafa still noticed I was upset at the thought of another woman coming between us again, and apparently so did Esteban. His impeccable social skills had served him well in his distinguished career, and seeing we needed a bit of help, he didn’t hesitate to jump in and redirect the intimate conversation. Oddly enough, Rafa was as open with Esteban about us as he had been with Doña Delfina, and truthfully his counsel didn’t bother me at all. Neither of us had our parents anymore, so we were both open to words of wisdom from someone older and wiser.

  “Amanda, don’t get distracted by things that don’t matter. Rafa will take care of it, correct? In spite of his friendship with her boyfriend?” Esteban arched an eyebrow at Rafa, waiting for him to confirm. A handsome man who no doubt had his own fair share of lovers in his day, he knew full well it was exactly what I wanted to hear.

  “Of course,” said Rafa. “I love Sal like a brother, but she’s gone.”

  “Done,” said Esteban to me, like an expert negotiator. “Don’t let it cross your mind again, and focus on what he shared with you earlier, that Doña Delfina told him the woman put a hallucinogen in his drink. You missed that part, and Rafa might be tempted not to go back to it.” He put his hand on Rafa’s shoulder for emphasis. “It’s time to bring her in. You can’t protect her by keeping her in the dark.”

  Rafa said nothing. For the first time ever I saw him doubt himself, uncertain of what to do. This man of swift decision and bold action was actually hesitating, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think it was out of fear.

  “That’s right, you did.” I spoke slowly, embarrassed to be so clueless in front of the Con
gressman, who didn’t look the least bit confused. Had Rafa been right to worry I’d been hit on the head? Perhaps I just couldn’t remember. “What am I missing?”

  “Amada,” began Rafa, “I’ve explained to you that in Santería, we believe that muertos or the dead, remain connected to us, and they will serve as guides if we take care to honor and please them.”

  “Very briefly, yes,” I said. “That day in the kitchen with Kieran and Ken.”

  “I’m not sure you understand the extent of it.” Rafa took a deep breath and then braced himself like someone expecting a blow. “I have spirit guides that come to me, and I communicate with them in my dreams or by going into a trance. I told you about the ballerina, remember? Well, Doña Delfina came to me in one of those dreams and told me the redhead had been sent by Achille. I have other guides as well. In fact, I had a very specific experience while you were gone, mamita, that I want to share with you when the time is right.”

  I took a second to process what he was saying, remembering the party trick Achille had performed on the plane, then everything he’d said about Rafa. “I have things to tell you, too.”

  “Wh-what do you mean?” he stammered, sitting forward in his chair. I know he thought I was going to take back what I’d said about being unharmed. For such a brave man, Rafa absolutely lost it when he thought there was something wrong with me.

  “Not that. I already told you the truth. Achille talked a lot about you and Esteban and Alex. The same kind of things you were just talking about. Magic. I’ve heard you call it brujería.”

  “Oh, thank god,” said Rafa, slumping in his chair. Esteban patted him on the shoulder, understanding what Rafa’s fear had been. “Tell me, baby. You can say anything in front of Esteban.” Rafa glanced at Esteban for permission to share something else, to which he assented. “The congressman also practices Santería with me and a group of twenty-eight other people. This afternoon we had a meeting about how to get you out of Cuba, and together we came up with a plan. I’d trust any one of them with my life.”

  “Them too?” I pointed in the direction of the aides, both of whom were busy in the back with paperwork.

  “No, mija,” said Esteban, his voice low. “Just me. Rafa, you have to introduce her to everyone so that she knows who can be trusted.”

  “I will,” said Rafa, shifting his attention back to me. “So what did he say about us?”

  “He said you’re a santero. A priest. That you’re known as a healer, and that’s probably why you were drawn to medicine.”

  “That’s true,” said Rafa.

  “Demarais is quite fixated on you, Rafa,” said Esteban.

  “He is,” agreed Rafa. “What else, mamita?”

  “That you should have told me, because I have a right to know.”

  “Also true.”

  “Then he showed me some sort of mind control trick.” I described exactly how he’d made Chip blurt out his love for Charlotte. “But at first, to convince me he hadn’t interfered in our relationship, and that your infidelity was real, he said it couldn’t work on you, because you’re a priest.”

  “That’s a lie,” said Rafa. “By his own admission later you know he did interfere, and my being a priest doesn’t protect me from anything he does, other than I’m more likely to understand what’s going on and take preventative measures.”

  “That’s right,” I said, remembering the orchid. “You knew who sent that black flower to the house and why. He admitted that, too.”

  “Our friend was in the mood to talk,” said Esteban knowingly. “I wonder why.”

  “Esteban, Achille said he wants your son because of his connections, but Rafa is protecting him,” I said. “Rafa’s interference enrages him.”

  “We know, Amanda,” said Esteban, loosening his tie. “He wants me to make it easy for him to move his drugs directly through Cuba, and we certainly can’t allow that. Criminals like him like to put pressure on people through their families. That’s why I’m so involved today. I’m going to do everything in my power to protect you and Rafa because Rafa did the same for me and Alex. Please don’t think I’m meddling in your relationship for no reason. I want to see this through and help you both as much as I can.”

  “Thank you, Esteban,” I said, noticing how even the mere mention of his son changed his demeanor from in control to tense. Achille had been wise to put pressure on them by threatening their families. “You’ll be interested to know that he also has some sort of delusion of becoming the president of Haiti or Cuba, and he wanted me to be his first lady. Can you imagine?” I smiled at them both, expecting them to start laughing or at least call him insane, but it was quite the opposite.

  “We’ve known for a while that he has political aspirations,” said Esteban, deadly serious. “Now we know why he told you so much.”

  “Why me?” I asked. “To punish Rafa?”

  “Somewhat,” said Esteban. “But someone of your background and education would give him a great deal of credibility in the public eye. It makes perfect sense that he wants you for himself. He views you as an asset.”

  “That’s insane,” I exclaimed. “How was he planning on kidnapping me, yet keeping me in the public eye? I would have run at the first opportunity.” I looked at Rafa, who was uncharacteristically quiet.

  “He would have taken some time to seclude you in Haiti and brainwash you, or get you addicted to drugs to control you, or both,” said Rafa quietly. “By the time he let you out in public again you would have been unable to think for yourself. Technically it’s not kidnapping if the victim appears to stay willingly. Look what happened to that famous heiress in the seventies, the one who robbed banks with her kidnappers. She went to jail for her actions even though they took her and did awful things to brainwash her.” Rafa spoke, but continued to stare straight ahead, either disgusted or furious beyond words, I couldn’t tell which.

  “Amanda, why weren’t you able to call for help as soon as you got to the hotel?” asked Esteban. “If he didn’t drug you, how did he get you off a plane and upstairs without there being an opportunity for you to at least scream for help?” He leaned in toward us, then spoke in low, measured tones. “Did he tie you up or control your mind? How does this bastard have so much power over others?” Rafa made some sort of gesture indicating his discomfort, but Esteban persisted. “I’m sorry, Rafa.”

  “Yes, baby,” said Rafa, shaken out of his thoughts by the question. “What in the hell did he do to keep you quiet?”

  “My phone didn’t work,” I said, “and my so-called friends begged me not make a scene so they wouldn’t get in trouble. They said all they wanted was an hour, then they promised we’d leave right after that. I didn’t want to cause that level of trouble for anyone, so I agreed. They begged me not to use a phone to call Kieran’s plane because anything I said about why I had to leave so quickly would be monitored.”

  “That’s correct,” said Esteban. “If you’d said anything about drugs on a landline you would have had police at everyone’s door.”

  “I waited an hour in the room Rafa found me in, but just when I thought we’d be leaving, Achille turned up and confessed everything. He said if I didn’t agree to go with him to Haiti from there, he’d call the police himself and let them find the drugs he’d hidden, and that he had such powerful friends in Cuba no one would believe me over him. He said I’d rot in a Cuban jail until someone figured out where I was and how to get me out.” I shuddered at the thought, almost as frightening now as it was then. “Then he got on the phone and started making travel arrangements.”

  “Son of a bitch liar,” said Esteban. “I assure you he has no powerful friends except maybe one or two contacts at the hotel.”

  “Maybe not even that, because right then a hotel manager interrupted his phone calls and insisted he step outside. That’s when Rafa came and got me.”

  “She wasn’t a manager,” said Rafa, a little smile forming on his face for the first time since we’d reunited. �
�Her name is Patrizia, and I knew her in high school. She was working as a prostitute at the hotel, and if it weren’t for her help, I don’t think we would have made it.”

  “She was?” I asked incredulous.

  “Esteban,” said Rafa. “Patrizia helped me get Amada out without any problem, but once we were in the lobby, he came after us. It was me or him, so I stabbed him in the thigh, and then I asked Babalú-Ayé to keep him down and unable to speak. He had a heart attack on the spot. I know you asked me not to harm him, but it was unavoidable.” Rafa glanced at me, watching for a reaction. “No one saw what I did. The only people who noticed me thought I was just a bystander, like them.”

  “I understand,” said Esteban. “Do you think he’s dead?”

  “Possibly,” said Rafa, likely concerned about the fallout for Esteban. “If the heart attack wasn’t fatal, a severed femoral artery would be, if I hit it.”

  “Well, if he was taken to a hospital and survived, I’m sure the liar will make something up about the leg wound. He won’t want to be questioned. If he dies, even better. I’m not worried, so relax.” As the plane began its decent into Miami, he clicked his seatbelt into place and indicated we should do the same. “The important thing is that you’re home.”

  “It is,” I said, reaching for Rafa’s hand. I couldn’t wait to be alone with him, and I knew by the way he was rubbing his thumb across my palm that he felt the same. I reveled in the feeling of weightlessness as the plane glided down over Miami, knowing it was nothing compared to how it would be between us later in bed. Remembering something, he pulled his hand away for just a second to send a text. He showed me the screen of his phone, a text to Sandro to come pick us up, and Sandro’s reply.

  Good, maybe now you can function, you pussy-whipped little bitch.

  “He means he’s glad we’re home safe,” said Rafa, laughing.

  “One more thing,” said Esteban, over the characteristic grinding sound of the landing gear. “I’m going to speak frankly. You need to get married already, if that’s what’s going to happen. As your husband, Rafa will be in a much better position to defend you. If anything had happened, your brother would have been the one to make medical and legal decisions on your behalf, and I’m sure he loves you, but I think it’s obvious why you’d want Rafa to be the one running things. He put himself at great personal risk to go back to Cuba today, and no one could talk him out of it. I’ve never seen anyone so distraught. Give him the legal power to protect his family and worry about the party later. If that man or anyone like him is still out there, you need to circle the wagons now. In fact, be sure to put out a press release, so that he knows you’re someone else’s wife.”