Firefly Summer (13 page)

“Like one under a magic spell, Pablo obeyed.

“Then a strange thing happened. The minute his hand touched the torch, a sense of adventure seized him and he felt his courage coming back. He followed the pirate on and on, across the clearing and still further beyond. When they reached another clearing, the pirate ordered him to stop. He drew a circle around Pablo and began to jump and stamp his feet, muttering strange words. Three times he went around him and then dropped to his knees and began to dig. He dug until a high pile of earth rose at his side. A rusty chain appeared. He tugged and tugged at it until the pile of chain equaled the height of the pile of earth. Finally, a small square chest appeared dangling at the end of the last bit of chain. With an eerie shout of triumph, the pirate pounced upon it and pried the lid open.

“The brightness that came from it dazzled Pablo's eyes. Never had he seen such splendor. Rubies, emeralds, diamonds and other precious stones difficult for him to identify lay alongside gold doubloons.

“The pirate looked frantically through the precious stones, lifting one handful after another and examining them carefully.

“‘What could he be looking for?' thought Pablo.

“Then he saw what it was. Out of the last handful of gems, the pirate had taken a miniature dagger encased in a scabbard studded with tiny diamonds, sapphires and pearls. As soon as he laid eyes on it, Pablo felt a strange desire. He must have that dagger, even if he had to fight the pirate for possession.

“Pablo took one step forward. The pirate was examining the dagger closely, and his eyes gleamed. Pablo took another step and leaped, but his feet tangled on the pile of chain and he fell. The light of the torch went out.

“‘The light! The light!' screamed the pirate. ‘What have you done with the light, miserable fool?'

“A great rumbling noise rose from the earth, and a cold wind blew, chilling Pablo's very bones. When he finally picked himself up, the pirate's ghost had disappeared. On the spot where he had stood, Pablo saw something gleaming and shining as bright as the stars in the sky on a dark night.

“‘It's the dagger!' he cried, rushing towards it. He stumbled over something else.

“‘¡
Caracoles
! ¡
Caracoles
!' he shouted joyfully. ‘The chest! The pirate left his treasure behind.'

“The next morning, when the first gleam of daylight brightened the sky, Pablo covered his loot with leaves and carried it carefully through the palm trees until he reached a town. There he bought a boat and returned to his village.

“Not a word did he say about his past experiences in the Devil's Hole. In fact, he could not have told them had he cared to, for when the villagers saw him, they ran away from him as one would from a wild beast. Even the children peered at him from behind their mother's skirts with fear in their eyes.

“So on the following Friday, Pablo picked up his belongings and sailed away. He settled in another village, where he bought himself a fine house, filled it with servants and took to live the life of a grand
señor
.

“Meanwhile in the village, Pablo's second disappearance struck a vital note. It was clear now to them that he was linked with evil forces. Before long, they had a yarn which reached mysterious proportions with each retelling, a yarn as strange and as worthy of these people who, as I told you before, were the most superstitious people in the entire world.'”

Don Goyo got to his feet as his audience burst into applause.

“We better move on,” he said. “It is not so good to travel at night in an oxcart.”

Mercedes, Teresa and Ramón said goodbye and thanked Pilar and Felipe for the good time they had had.

“Wait for us,” said Don Goyo. “We can all walk together.”

They went down the hill, still discussing Pablo's good luck.

The driver harnessed the oxen to the cart, and the children jumped into their seats.

“Goodbye, goodbye,” they called as the cart began to move.

Ramón, Teresa and Mercedes stood waving to them until the trees hid them from view.

As the trio turned towards home, the wind brought back the sound of the voices of the children singing in the oxcart.

The day after the birthday
trulla
, Teresa and Mercedes entertained the family with their accounts of the celebration. They even went through some of the steps of the
seis
.

“I see Don Goyo preserves the original form of the dance,” Don Rodrigo said, watching the girls go whirling around the room.

“Do you know that this
seis
used to be an old ritual of the church and was first danced by little children with their heads uncovered during the feast of Corpus Christi?” said Grandmother.

“I always go to the feast at the small chapel on Cristo Street,” said Mercedes, “but never have I seen children dance there.”

“Of course not,” said Grandmother. “This happened in the old days, and the custom has been abandoned. No one dances the
seises
for religious purposes anymore. At present, the only form seen here is the popularized
seis
which has come to be a
set piece at all peasant dances. It's always the last piece the musicians play to end the dance.”

“Let's end ours with it, too,” said Don Rodrigo, laughing. “If we don't get to the
finca
and see about those six new sheds, they will never be finished. Come on, Ramón.”

“How about sewing the sachets this morning,
Mamá
?” asked Doña Anita. “I have enough material in the basket now.”

“That's a good idea,” said Grandmother, following her daughter out of the room.

Teresa and Mercedes looked out the window. Ramón had brought the two horses and was waiting for Don Rodrigo to come out.

“How long will it be before you let me see the sandalwood box Ramón gave you, Teresa? You promised that if I ever came to the
finca
, you would show it to me. But every time I remind you, there is something else you want to do. Don't you really want to show it to me?”

“I guess I have to,” she said, watching Ramón and her father ride away. “A promise is a promise. Let's go back to my room.”

Out of an old trunk from under the window, Teresa took out a small bundle wrapped up in one of her father's handkerchieves. She untied the knots and showed Mercedes a small sandalwood box.

“I have not opened this box since Ramón gave it to me,” she said, removing the lid carefully so that Mercedes could see its contents.

The box was neatly lined inside. Wound round and round a small cushion was a coral necklace and a pair of matching earrings.

“Oh, Teresa, it's so beautiful!” said Mercedes. “How long is it?”

Teresa did not really know.

“Haven't you ever worn it?”

“I have never taken it out of this box. I want to keep it as carefully as Ramón had himself. You see, he believes it once belonged to his mother.”

“Let me see how it looks on me.”

Before Teresa could stop her, she had taken out the necklace, slipped it over her head and gone to look at herself in the mirror.

“Look how long it is, Teresa. It has gone twice around my neck.”

Mercedes turned around for her to see, but Teresa was busy examining something close by the window.

“What is it?” asked Mercedes.

“This tiny, crumpled card fell out of the sandalwood box when you took out the necklace,” she said. “Here is the mark under the cushion where it had been.”

“Let me see it,” said Mercedes.

It was a wrinkled card, yellow with age. There was something written on it, which Teresa had been trying to make out. They smoothed the card out and together tried to decipher the writing.

“There is an R and an A,” said Mercedes, “but the others are so creased that I can't read them.”

“They look like an N and another A,” said Teresa.

“Let's write the letters down on paper, so we can make out what they mean.”

They substituted dots for the empty spaces.

“RA…NA—what do you suppose it means, Mercedes?”

“Look, Teresa, here is a capital A as clear as it can be, and isn't that a Y?”

“It is,” said Teresa, “but the rest is missing, too, except for those two others which look like an L and another A.” She put them down beside the ones she had written. They made out “AY…LA.”

“This is a name, I am sure,” said Mercedes.

Teresa put the card down and concentrated on the slip of paper.

“Let's substitute the letters of the alphabet, until we get some name out of it,” said Mercedes.

Some of the letters made little sense, until they came to the M and the N.

“RAMONA!” cried the two excited girls.

They began to work with the second name. As soon as they added the first letter of the alphabet, they made out “AYALA.”

“There it is complete now: ‘RAMONA AYALA.' You were right, Mercedes. It is a name. Perhaps it is Ramón's mother's name.”

She picked up the card and inserted the missing letters in their proper places.

“There's something written on the back of the card, too,” said Mercedes. “Turn it over and see.”

On a side that had escaped the creases was written 26 Had.

“What do you suppose it all means, Teresa?”

“I don't know for sure, but that is what you and I will have to find out. Only, we mustn't tell anyone until we know. Not even Ramón. Will you promise?”

“Of course,” said Mercedes, “but how are we going to find out if we don't tell someone?”

“We can, we can,” Teresa assured her, “if we find where 26 Tamarindo is. It must be the name of a street.”

“But we are always at the
finca
. How are we to find out?”

“By asking, of course. Let me have the necklace back.” She wound it around the cushion again, closed the box, wrapped it in the handkerchief and put it back in the trunk.

When they came back to the front room, Grandmother said she was just about to call them to help fill the sachets with dried patchouli. She gave them a handful of sachets she had finished sewing.

The girls sat down to work with their minds full of the secret they were keeping between them.

“If Teresa thinks of asking where 26 Tamarindo is, why does not she begin now?” thought Mercedes. She looked at her friend, but Teresa was working, apparently interested in the work she was doing.

Maybe if she began, she could give Teresa a lead to ask Grandmother. She could try anyhow. So she asked Grandmother why the paths in the
finca
did not have names.

“What an idea,” said Grandmother. “There aren't that many.”

“But for the few there are, there could be names,” Mercedes insisted. “There is the path leading to the butterflies. Why can't it be called Butterfly Path?” She was carried away by her sudden idea.

“Oh, Teresa,” she said, “let's make a map of the
finca
and name the places we like best.”

“There is a map of the
finca
,” said Doña Anita. “Hasn't Teresa shown it to you? Rodrigo has all the important places marked with red ink.”

“I wonder if the place where the big tamarind tree is has been marked?” asked Teresa. “I don't remember.”

Mercedes looked at her quickly. Teresa smiled. She had gotten her point after all.

“I don't remember it either,” said her mother.

“Tamarind is a good name even for a street, isn't it, Grandmother?” asked Mercedes, for whom
the conversation had taken an added interest now that Teresa was with her.

“Someone else must have thought the same thing,” Grandmother said, “because there are some streets by that name.”

“There are? Where?” both girls asked, forgetting all cautiousness.

“Isn't there one in Cidra, next to the public square?” asked Doña Anita.

“No,” said Grandmother, “that is Tuna Street, but there is one in Cayey.”

Antonio's arrival interrupted the conversation. Sixta had sent him to fetch Teresa and Mercedes to go and try on the new dresses.

The girls followed Antonio quickly out of the house. They were glad to see him turned towards his home, leaving them to go alone to Sixta's house.

“We must go to Cayey and find out,” said Teresa, as soon as Antonio was gone.

“Maybe Ramón will take us again,” said Mercedes.

“No, not Ramón, Mercedes, I don't want him to know why we want to go there.”

“How about Sixta? She has to return some of her work sometime.”

“That's it, Mercedes. Sixta, of course. Why didn't I think of her before.”

They ran the rest of the way until they reached Sixta's house.

“I did not expect you so soon,” said Sixta when they arrived. “Antonio must have misunderstood me. I said you could come down any day except Thursday. That is the day when I go to deliver my work in Cayey and pick a new batch.”

“Can we go along with you?” asked Teresa.

“But I go on business and come right back. It won't be any fun for you.”

“We can always walk around town while you deliver your work, and meet you at Martín's place.”

“Please take us,” said Teresa. “Mother will let us go if you come and ask her.”

“All right,” said Sixta. “Let's get on with these dresses, since you are here now. I think I can have them ready for you by the end of the week.”

Sixta adjusted the seams and took up the hem of both dresses while the girls stood up on chairs. But they showed little interest in the dresses. Teresa wished she could tell Sixta about their plan, but she had decided not to let anyone know. Maybe after they looked for 26 Tamarindo, but not before.

Sixta kept her promise, and on Thursday Teresa and Mercedes led their horse towards the road where Sixta was already waiting. They carried the basket of lunch Grandmother had prepared. Concealed under it was the sandalwood box.