GRINGA (47 page)

             
Laughter all round.

             
M
y ey
es are fixed on Diago’s face. ‘Diago, that was a long ti ...’ 

             
‘
“Want to slash off his dick and let him die. Bleed to death. Hate this place. It’s evil and dark. Want to burn it down with Diablo in it
.
I think about
Austin
all the time. Handsome, loving, kind. My first love. My Ken doll. I forgive him for dumping me and marrying
Paris
. I forgive him for falling under her spell. He’s human – he did what most men do. The relationship we had was too good to be true. Beautiful people like him don’t happen to girls like me. But I still hanker after him. Still. That’s cos I’m a dumb fuck. Here’s another confession: I love his son and whenever I hold him, I pretend he’s mine. Mine and Austin’s.’”

             
I leap out of my chair and attempt to snatch the diary from her, prepared to wrestle her for it.

             
‘Give it back!’ 

             
Santana scrambles up and yanks me off Christa. I elbow Santana in the solar plexuses and stomp on her foot
,
but she is strong and hangs onto my hair, giving Christa her air time.

             
Christa
reads randomly from different parts of my diary.
‘“Whenever Diablo fucks me, I think of you and I fantasise about us making love.’”

             
She stops and looks at Diago. ‘I am so sorry for you Diago,’ she says in a solemn voice.

             
Diablo squeezes his eyes shut for a moment then blinks rapidly.

             
‘You see Diablo, I tell you there is something going on with the gringo and gringa here, ’member? But you don’t believe me. You have to trust me from now on because I am your mother - I know ever’thing.’

             
Santana
laughs as she
releases me.

             
Christa shakes her head, tsks! and continues reading.

             
‘“I picture you above me and sometimes I even feel like responding. It’s fucked up, I know and ... ’”
             

             
A murmur ripples through the room as Diago deadpans.

             
‘No, no, no, Diago,’ I protest.
It’s not like that now. Please!’
             

             
“‘
Dreamed of
Austin
again  ...
’”

             
Adrenalin takes over - I crash into Christa and rip the diary out of her hands.
But
Santana grabs me from behind and holds me down while Christa punches me in the face.

             
Under normal circumstances I would retaliate, but now I fear I will lose my grip on the diary if I do. Luckily
Troy
steps in and breaks up the fight. I lie on the ground, my nose bloodied but diary firmly in hand. Christa kicks me in the ribs and
stands back
. Someone shoves Kleenex at me
to wipe my bloodied nose.

             
Diago is on his feet looking down at me. ‘How
, Payton? Why?
I th
ink you and me …?
’ His voice is wavering, his shoulders slumped. Then he quickly straightens up, turns and strides off. 

             
‘Diago wait!’

             
H
e keeps walking.

             
‘That was a long time ago Diago! Please, don’t be mad.’ I get up and run after him, Christa’s mocking laughter ringing in my ears.

             
‘Please ... I don’t feel the same way now – anymore. Please Diago, understand.’

    
             
He suddenly swings around
and glares at me.
I shrink back when I see the fury in his eyes. ‘You ... I ... you stay away from me, Payton,’ he snarls.

             
‘But Diago, you ... ’

             
‘No!’ he roars, his fists raised, his nostril flaring.

    
             
I back off, terrified he’s going to strike me. But he doesn’t. Instead, he punches the air next to me and I gasp. Then he turns and storms out of the ranch, gets on his horse and rides away.

    
             
Crushed, I drag myself to my room and literally run into
Troy
. He looks at me with clenched jaws. Is he mad at me for humiliating his brother in public, for letting him down, for breaking his heart?  

             
‘I don’t feel that way anymore,
Troy
,’ I croak. ‘I …I really care about him.’

             
He silently steps aside for me to continue walking.

             
I
sit on my bed
and think about Diago
. Why the hell didn’t I destroy that diary? The moment my feelings towards Diago changed, I should have burnt that fucking book.  

             
I look out the window? Where can he be? I humiliated him in front of his men. Well, Christa the bitch did, the fucking ... fucking ... uuuggh! I thump my pillow in frustration.

             
My diary was hidden deep between my linen so it couldn’t be discovered. Yet she found it. Obviously she had been searching my room looking for stuff she could use against me. Bitch!

It’s been a week since the diary incident and Diago still ignores me. He won’t even look at me. I’d like a chance to explain things but he’s not interested. 

  
             
I hear him snapping at the men. He’s done th
at
all week. The tension at the table is thick and everyone can’t wait for dinner to be over. Except Christa and Santana – they’re in high spirits.

             
But that soon changes. Something Christa says pisses Diago off and he yells at her, eliciting a profuse apology from her. I can gloat, but I don’t. I’m more concerned about Diago hurting inside.

    
             
Finally Diago scrapes back his chair and leaves the dining room, his dinner unfinished. Shortly after that, I hear him riding off.                                 

‘Senorita! Senorita!’ Maria shak
es
me.

             
I squint at her, then glance at the clock on the wall – 3 AM.

             
‘Maria? Wha ...?’

             
I hear shouting outside – Diago’s voice. Suddenly, I’m wide awake.

             
‘Diablo, he want to kill you,’ Maria says, her voice irritable.

             
‘Oh. Why?’ I stumble to the window and there he is - staggering in the middle of the courtyard, whisky bottle in one hand and revolver in the other.

    
             
‘She doesn’t love me!’ he laments. ‘She love ... Him. She didn’t tell me the truth!’

             
‘Omigod!’
I don’t believe what I’m seeing.

    
             
Villas around us are suddenly lighting up.

             
‘This is not like Diablo
,’ Maria says
. He’s so…so
loco
, Senorita.’

             
‘Yeah.  I’ve never seen him drunk before. I’ve seen him drink a drink a lot, but I’ve never seen him legless like this.

    
             
‘Imadiablo!’ he yells. ‘Nobody makes fool of Diablo! I kill ’em.’ He repeats himself ad nauseam and threatens to kill both me and Austin and all the men I’ve been with in my entire life.

             
To add substance to his threats, he fires wildly into the skies as if we’re all lined up there. 

             
‘
Bring out the gringa so I can kill her,’ he yells to no one in particular. ‘She hates me, so I ... exe …ex …ex’cute her. She say ... she say I don’ know how to ... to romance a woman. She say I a lousy shot.’ He fires rapidly into the skies again.

             
‘See?  I good shot. The best.  He say she not impress with me. ‘
He say I don’t shave and I don’t ... don’t ...’

             
Gender confusion - alcohol is known to cause that.

     
             
‘I fire Senor Vito tomorrow. I grow hair on my face again and I …I … I put on all my eyebrow rings. She tell me to be good and I be good. I learn
English
for her. But now, I will be bad. I will be very bad. I will be evil like ... like Christa. I will ...’

   
             
Thrilled that Diago has finally come to his senses and is about to kill me, Christa ventures into the courtyard and ambles up to Diago.

             
‘I don’t want see you,’ Diago yells. ‘You are evil woman. You take advantage of me. You lie and you let him hurt me. I was little girl ... boy. Now you read ... read ... Gringa’s words because you want to hurt me. One day, I kill you Christa! I
fargin
kiiill you!’

    
             
Christa quickly backs away.

    
             
Maria tugs my arm. ‘Senorita please, go talk to him and get make him quiet,’ she begs. ‘Diago is very upset. You speak to him, he be okay.’

    
             
‘How? I don’t know …’

    
             
‘He is a man.
He
don’t know how, Senorita. You have to go to him and you have to tell him ... tell him you are sorry for writing those terrible things about him’ She does nothing to disguise the accusation in her voice.  

    
             
‘Maria!’ Diago calls.

     
             
We look at each other with wide eyes, then look out the window.

     
             
‘Maria, bring out gringa so I can kill her, Maria. I don’t care if she
make me laugh.
I will kill her with my hands. Imadiablo. Imastrong.’