The Girl Who Could Silence the Wind (18 page)

“A million pardons,
señora.
” She stooped to collect the mess.

Teresa snatched a choker and matching earrings from her hands.

“How did we ever end up with such a disaster of a girl?” she said, slipping the gold posts through Señora Masón’s lobes. “Arenas has clearly forgotten our standards.”

But Sonia was barely listening. She was already lost in thought again, remembering Rafael’s teary face the first day he’d followed their father into the mines. Teresa gave her a pinch that made her jump.

“Do you hear what’s been said? You ought to be ashamed!”

“A million pardons,” Sonia mumbled. “I was —”

Teresa waved off further explanation.

“You were thinking of things that do not concern anybody,” she snapped. “You’ve had the look of a dead fish all night!”

Sonia closed her mouth and pretended not to hear the rest of the complaints that Teresa hissed in her ears. It was true enough about her appearance. She had had no appetite all day, and so she felt faint and her eyes were dull. But how could it be otherwise? Rafael was crowding every thought, and when he wasn’t, it was Umberto who worried her to distraction. She hadn’t seen him since their encounter in the library. At any moment he could return and tell his aunt a terrible lie. As far as Sonia knew, Señora Masón had no idea of what had happened.

Teresa pulled out the drawer of the vanity and held out a small brass key.

“Put this box in the top drawer,” she ordered, handing Sonia the jewelry case. “You can manage that without dropping things, can’t you?”

Katarina Masón chuckled. “I think the sight of all this jewelry is making her nervous,” she said. “Calm yourself, girl.” She held up her hair to let Teresa fasten her choker. “Did Umberto say when he was coming back?”

Teresa fumbled with the clasp.

“No,
señora,
he didn’t.”

“I’d hoped he could join me tonight. I have a girl in mind for him — have I mentioned it? The colonel’s daughter. A little homely, but she’ll run a good house, and her people are well connected. My brother’s son needs someone steady, not this string of harlots who are always throwing themselves at him in bars.”

Teresa’s face was red with frustration as she worked the delicate clasp.

“Caldera is half a day’s drive from here,
señora
. Remember? I don’t expect he’ll be back soon. You know how young men are about their cars.”

Katarina Masón shook her head. “I don’t know what we’re coming to. Vandals are going to ruin this city! Imagine having the nerve to break in to someone’s home to destroy things! First my library and then the garage! Oscar said they made a mess of Umberto’s car. I’m going to have to hire private guards for the grounds before long.”

She looked impatiently at Teresa in the reflection. The old woman’s hands were shaking too badly.

“Niña,”
she called. “Come and do this for Teresa.”

Sonia set the box down slowly and went to her employer. Teresa gave her a warning look as she handed over the emeralds.

“Oscar’s mechanics tried their best to fix Señor Umberto’s car,
señora,
” Teresa said. “But these European models are so complicated — especially for those simpletons. Don’t worry, though. Oscar has assured me his man in Caldera will have the auto like new in a week or two. He is the very best mechanic in the country, I’m told, though he does require that Umberto be on hand to approve the repairs. Naturally, he wants to be sure his most important customer is happy with the work.”

Sonia hooked the gold latch, her own hands fighting to keep steady. So this was how the broken window had been explained. It had never occurred to her that the old crone might actually be saving her from doom. But here it was, plain as day. Teresa was lying about everything, and Oscar was helping.

“Finish up already,
niña,
and put the jewelry box away,” Teresa ordered. “How many times do I have to say it? We’re pressed for time.” She stepped behind the lacquered screen with Señora Masón.

Sonia opened the lilac-scented drawers to place the jewelry box among the French intimates folded there. The box was almost too pretty to touch with hands that peeled garlic and swept dirt, Sonia thought. Its ebony cover was inlaid with dragons of ivory and jade from the Forbidden City.

She couldn’t resist lifting the lid. Inside was a mesmerizing collection: ruby chokers, rings of amethyst, emerald pendants, and gold bangles. The sight made her jealous, though not for the jewels themselves. A person who owned gems like this would never have to work as a servant or say,
“Sí, señora; no, señora,”
or put up with a toad like Umberto. She wouldn’t have to worry a single night about making her family hungry or losing a brother to the lure of a better life.

She replaced the lid carefully, slid the drawer shut, and locked it.

“Is there anything else?” she asked, peering out the window. The moon was already rising — bloodred. It was the kind of sight that made mothers in Tres Montes close their shutters.

“Put the key in the vanity,” Teresa said from behind the screen. “Lock the balcony before you go, too. It’s been a busy season for crooks in the capital,” she added hastily. “They’ll slit a decent woman’s throat in her bed without a care.”

Sonia paused at the back door and clapped her hands for the dogs. Though Teresa had been with her all day since her encounter with Umberto, she was reluctant to cross the grounds alone at all, especially now when the light made the garden statues glow so garishly. The dogs, however, were nowhere to be found. They’d grown skittish themselves since the night in the parlor and wandered with their tails like scythes between their legs.

She hurried along in the brisk night air, but when she rounded the pond, she found she couldn’t take another step. La Casita had come into view. The bedroom windows of the house were already glowing with candles, in Rafael’s honor. It was Eva’s act of friendship, but Sonia could not bear to look at the flames.

“Don’t light them.” She tried to take the matches from Eva. The night before, she’d seen sinister shadows on the walls in the candlelight. She was sure she’d seen Luis reaching his arms to her. “We could be forgetful. We could burn alive.”

But Eva had persisted just the same, and the smell of melting beeswax had reminded Sonia of all the unanswered prayers — of just how little she could do to help Rafael. She had nightmares until dawn.

Sonia climbed across the footbridge and sat down, legs dangling near the surface of the pond. From her pocket she drew out her pouch of
milagros
and poured the silver pieces into her lap. Mouths, eyes, fists, girls, boys, houses. She couldn’t fix her own problems, let alone all that had been entrusted to her.

“Sonia Ocampo,” a deep voice said.

Sonia whipped around and stuffed the
milagros
away. There was a man’s figure at the base of the bridge, and he was approaching her quickly. She thought at once of Umberto Masón’s cologned hands all over her again, and her heart raced. Had he come back unexpectedly? How far would her scream carry?

“Stay where you are,” she ordered.

But the intruder did nothing of the sort. Instead, he stepped out of the shadows. When the moonlight revealed him in its reddish light, Sonia was sure he was a ghost.

His arm was bandaged in a sling. His clothes were torn, and he smelled strongly of horses. But he was smiling at her with his whole handsome face.

“Pancho?”

He took off his cap as he climbed the slope toward her.

“I did not see you off at the train,” he said quietly when he reached her. “It was rude of me; I’m so sorry.”

Sonia stared into his face. Nothing made sense.

“But what are you doing here? You didn’t come all this way to tell me that.”

He scarcely knew what to say, though he had practiced for hours. There was no time to tell her about Conchita Fo or Iguana or Mongo or the train or how her name was a blanket for him each and every night.

“There is no time for explanations.” He put his muddy jacket over her shoulders. “You must come with me tonight. Right now.”

“What? That’s impossible.”

“We have to find Rafael,” he blurted out.

There were a million questions that might have been asked, but for Sonia all of them were answered in the expression in Pancho’s eyes and the way he held out his good hand. She looked at the lights burning in La Casita and imagined the landslide of abuse that would ensue when it was discovered that she’d run away — this time with a boy she loved. Her life as an apprentice in the capital would be over for good.

“Trust me,” he said.

Somewhere in the distance, the dogs began their frantic barking. The garage doors swung open, and Oscar pulled the car slowly onto the path. Señora Masón was leaving at last for her party.

“This way.” Sonia guided Pancho into the shadows, where they huddled close together, listening to each other breathe.

When the gates finally closed and the taillights faded, she laced her fingers with his and let him lead her to a space he had hacked in the hedges.

“Where did you get that knife?” she said, eyeing the fearsome blade he slipped back inside his sling.

But Pancho only raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. A shiver ran along her arms.

Soon they were dashing through the night like thieves.

T
HE CAPITAL WAS
unrecognizable in its night cloak. They rode the last trolley through streets that were noisy with revelers. Musicians serenaded passersby at every corner, and young couples kissed with such abandon that Sonia blushed. In the distance, the presidential palace glowed proudly, the golden domes reflecting in Pancho’s eyes.

One by one, passengers disembarked until only they were left riding the increasingly dark turns.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t get off?” she whispered. Her map was back in her bedroom. Nothing here looked familiar.

Pancho shook his head and slid closer. “Not yet.”

At last, the conductor reached the end of the line and turned to them.

“Have you two missed your stop?” He frowned and looked around dubiously. “There won’t be another trolley out of this place until the morning, you know.”

“No,
señor,
we haven’t missed it. Thank you for the ride.”

Sonia had to fight the urge to run after the trolley as it reversed itself and chugged out of view. The lampposts here were rusted and dim, and store windows were boarded shut.

“We have to hurry,” Pancho said.

Sonia read the broken sign as they walked on.

COLONIA VÁSQUEZ
.

Long ago Colonia Vásquez had been a neighborhood of well-built Spanish houses carved into the mountainside. Now the homes clung to the cliffs like dying monsters, nothing more than crumbling archways strung with laundry lines. Barefoot children ran yelling in the alleys as bored-looking women looked out over the disaster.

“An item for you,
guapa
?” a man called from his pawnshop doorway. “I have combs for silky hair like yours!”

Sonia glanced in his window. It was filled with unmatched jewelry, hand mirrors, vases, pots — all stolen from the finest houses, she was sure.

Her mind was a blur as she followed Pancho down one street after another. What business would they have here? And how did this involve Rafael? Pancho had refused to tell her anything so far.

She had just resolved to demand answers when someone stepped into their path. Sonia started to scream, but the man pressed his massive hand against her mouth and shoved her against a building. She bit at his fingers until she tasted blood. Pancho drew his knife.

“Careful with that thing!” The attacker bared his fangs. “You could have quartered me!”

“Oh, it’s you, Mongo,” Pancho said. “You have a nasty habit of surprising me. Better warning, please.”

Mongo looked around and scowled.

“So that the
guardia
can catch sight of me in these parts? Don’t be stupid! Policemen have long memories. And then what good would I do her brother from a jail cell?”

Sonia, still pressed against the wall, looked in shock from his face to Pancho’s. She pried his fingers from her mouth.

“Who are you and what do you know about my brother?” Her eyes trailed along the tips of the tattooed flames on his neck.

He pulled up his collar.

“Mongo. Follow me,” he said, and dashed off.

At last they turned down an alley. Mongo stopped at a door and pounded three times.

“Come on, you son of a monkey! Open up, or I’ll slice off your other ear,” he growled.

“What is this place?” Sonia whispered to Pancho, who was looking less confident by the minute.

He slipped his arm around her waist and drew her closer. “I don’t know exactly, but I think we have to trust him. Mongo has been a true friend so far.”

Sonia gave him a doubtful look. “He could still hurt us.” A shout and breaking glass sounded somewhere nearby. “He could sell us for money. Even that happens here. This is nothing like Tres Montes.”

Pancho swallowed hard. “We can turn back, if you wish, but . . .”