GRINGA (60 page)

             
As for my family
,
don’t even talk about them. They’re such a crazy bunch, they make Diago’s family look respectable.  

  
             
Finally, the ranch is in my sights and
I’m
relie
ved and looking forward
to a
hot
bubble bath, shampooing my hair
,
an orgy of self –
indulgence. I bet I smell something
terrible.

             
As I get closer, I hear music
and laughter. Seems like there a
party going on
. It is a party. A
huge,
wild, noisy
party with lots of people I’ve
never seen before
. They’re
drinking and dancing and making merry. The place is strewn with twinkling fairy lights and loud dance music blares from huge speakers in the decorated courtyard.

             
So the fuckers didn’t miss me at all. My ego takes a
tumble.
I stand in the shadows and survey the scene, my eyes seeking
out
Diago. I don’t see him. Neither do I see Santana
. That’s makes a little bit paranoid. Can they be
c
anoodling
somewhere?

             
I spot Christa though,
dancing
suggestively as usual
,
with a strapping young man
with big muscles and
gyrating hips
that
seem to mesmerise her. She’s staggering rather than dancing
but she is grinning.

  
             
I look around for more familiar faces, but I see none. Where is everybody? Maybe they moved house in an attempt to shake me off, lest I returned. Well, I’d deal with that later. First a shower, then food.

    
             
Food.
I
drool when I
see the mountains of beautiful food and resist the urge to dive into it. Instead, I head straight to my old room for a shower
, feeling a tad disappointed. I
imagined running into
Diago’s
arms and holding him and telling him how much I missed him. 

    
             
The state of my room tells me
that Elaine and Paris are still around. Surely, they couldn’t be still living here? I mean, I
l
eft
the ranch
for
fuck’s
sakes. And aren’t they supposed to be afraid of the devil?

             
Anyway, it’s refreshing to use soap again and I go crazy with it. After I shower, I slip into a flowing, white,
off the shoulder dress,
something fancy to remind Diago how attractive I am in case he forgot. I dodge Elaine’s stuff on the floor and style my hair. Finally I look in the mirror
.
It will have to do. 

    
             
My stomach is rumbling. It’s time for steak
. T
ons of it.
Excited, I co
ntemplat
e
my meal as I make my way back to the buffet table
.
I’ll have steak with potatoes. No, I’ll have a steak enchilada.
Well, m
aybe I’ll have steak, then the steak enchilada. Wait, what
about
the sausage? Maybe I’ll have steak, then steak enchilada and then sausage. Why can’t I have
all
at the same time?’

             
I walk up to the tables groaning with food and greed takes over. I dish everything and don’t stop until food tumbles out of my plate. I look at the salad and snub it. Absolutely no vegetables today, thank you.

     
             
Finally,
thrilled
with the amount I can
load
onto one large dinner plate, I totter towards a table and sit down. It’s been five days since I
’ve
had proper food and
I’m breathless with anticipation
. I need a drink
to go with this feast.
Let’s see ... vodka. I tear myself from the mound of food, walk to the bar and ask the barman, who I don’t recognise, for a vodka. I down it and
stamp my glass on the table. ‘Another one, please.’
 

    
             
He frowns at me. ‘Do you have an invitation to this party, Senorita?’

    
             
I look at his
piercing eyes
and my inner demon surfaces.

             
‘What? No
,
not really
.’
I drop my voice and lean towards him. ‘
I’m
kinda gatecrashing.
I’m
gonna raid their bedrooms
and
steal all their valuables. You keep your mouth shut
;
I’ll split with you, 50 / 50. Whachusay?
Huh? Whachusay?
’

             
Now that should have him dialling
Mexico
’s
911
or urgently summoning the armed guards around.

             
His
suddenly stands rigid. Here it comes; he’s going to ring the alarm.

             
‘
70
/
30
,
’ he says.
’

             
‘What!
You’re a greedy bastido.’

             
He shrugs.
’70 for me, 30 for you
or no deal.’
             

             
‘Deal
!
’ I say and
shove my glass forward
.
‘A double please.’

             
He obliges, his eyes
suddenly
shining.

             
‘Gringa?’ 

    
             
I
whip
around and look into
Troy
’s
suprised
. ‘Is really you?’

             
The barman looks
dismayed.

    
             
‘Hey Troy, how you’ve been?’

    
             
He stares at me.

    
             
‘Um ... what’s wrong?’ 

    
             
‘How ...? Where you go, Gringa?’ 

    
             
‘Juan and Enfermera’s. The nurses who saved me when I was thrown over the cliff. The witchdoctors
.
’

    
             
He shakes his head slowly. ‘I must get Diago,’ he says, his face suddenly lighting up like the disco balls in the courtyard. Well, at least he
’
s happy to see me. 

  
             
‘Yeah, where is he? And Taco
Bell
– where is she?’

  
             
Troy
gives a faint laugh. ‘Gringa, wait right here, okay?’

  
             
‘Eh, okay
Troy
boy,’ I say and crane my neck to look at the plate of meat twinkling at me.
‘
Please hurry up
Troy
. My steak is getting cold.’
 

    
             
H
e
changes his mind,
turns around and takes my hand. ‘Come with me, Gringa.’

  
             
My steak - it’s g
onna get …

             
‘Come, come.’

             
‘Am I in trouble?’

    
             
He smiles. ‘No, I take you to Diago.’

  
             
Sausages should be enjoyed warm. ‘Okay,’ I say, trying to sound excited.

             
I glance back at the barman. ’90 / 10!’ I shout out as
Troy
drags me away.

             
‘Okay,’ he mouths
.

    
             
Troy
leads me to the top of the cliff where
I s
ee a figure hunched on the ground, staring into the darkness. My heart lurches
. I
t’s my darling Diago.
I look behind at
Troy
. ‘Why’s he here? Why isn’t he drinking and dancing with his friends back there?’

  
             
‘Go,’
Troy
urges.

  
             
I nod and
walk
quietly until I get close behind him. ‘You’re not going to jump are you?’

   
             
Diago stiffens at the sound of my voice, then spin
s
around to look at me. His eyes light up
.
He’s  unshaven, his clothes are crumpled and his eyes are bloodshot.