The Cartel (3 page)

Josefina came out of the bathroom, pulling her hair back.

“Today is the day, Josefina. I will see Antonio tonight and tell him about the baby. Soon I will leave this place and we will be married.” She twirled around.

“You are a hopeless romantic,” Josefina said.

“Hopeless or not, I am carrying Antonio Espinoza’s child,” she replied.

A pounding at the door interrupted the two friends. Marta ran to it, hoping it would be Antonio. Maybe he had been thinking of her and needed to see her before the party. Could it be that he knew of her circumstances? That his intuition told him of her need and the child growing inside her?

To Marta’s dismay it was only their boss Lupe. “Come. The guests are arriving and Señor Rodriguez wants us out front,” she ordered, hands planted on her hips, not a smile to be found on her aged face.

Tonight’s fiesta was a special one. Señor Rodriguez was hosting a celebration in honor of his wife, having recently found out that she too, was with child.

Marta bounced out of the room and kissed Lupe on the cheek, which the old woman wiped away at once. “What has gotten into you?” she asked.

“Let me say that this is the happiest day of my life.”

“You are an odd girl. This wouldn’t have anything to do with Señor Espinoza, would it?” Lupe’s face darkened.

Marta wondered momentarily why the scowl, but dismissed it and giggled when Josefina interrupted, “Why of course not. Where would you get an idea like that?"

The two younger women grabbed hands and breezed past Lupe, heading to the courtyard garden.

The garden was filled with flowers the color of passion fruit as servants busied themselves placing platters of food on the large, elegantly decorated tables. A waterfall in the center of the adobe tiles sprayed out crystalline drops of cascading water.

As the guests arrived, Marta served hors d’oeuvres. At one point in the early evening, while searching for Antonio, she caught a glimpse of one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen.

The woman evidenced a grace that no other woman possessed at the party. She wore a flowing chiffon dress that matched her light green eyes. The dress covered what Marta knew a dress would soon be covering on her—an expanding midriff. She couldn’t help smiling at the sight of this woman with child. Even in the woman’s late pregnant state, she was dazzling. Her honey streaked hair glistened in the last rays of the afternoon sun. She looked like the women Marta had seen in the fashion magazines Señora Rodriguez looked at from the United States and Spain.

Turning to pick up a tray of drinks, she spotted Antonio. Her heart surged. Maybe she should approach him right there and tell him she was carrying his child, but it would be wiser to wait until they were alone. The least she could do was serve him a drink.

She walked toward him with a tray full of drinks, including his favorite drink of tequila and orange juice, she witnessed a small child run up to him. He stooped down, and the little girl threw her arms around his neck. Behind the girl stood the woman she’d been admiring, her hands resting on her widening waistline. The woman leaned over and patted the child on the shoulder while whispering something in her ear. The girl kissed the woman on the cheek, and then went off chasing after a group of children. The scene mesmerized Marta, but something inside her began to ache right in the center of her chest. After the little girl ran off, Antonio pulled the woman in close to him and kissed her, long and hard, exactly in the way that he had kissed Marta on so many nights.

Marta dropped the tray of drinks. They crashed onto the tile floor. She felt the gaze of partygoers upon her. A silence fell as she bent down, struggling to clean up the glass.
Please don’t look at me. No, please do not see me. God, save me from this moment.

As if he’d read her mind, Antonio’s eyes locked onto Marta’s. She tried to divert her attention back to the mess. Biting back the tears was pure torture. As soon as her mind fully processed what she’d seen, the lump in her throat swelled, constricting her every breath.

Lupe jolted her with a cruel reminder of her actual station in life. “Clean up this mess, you ignorant girl.”

Unable to control her emotions any longer, Marta fled the party, her vision distorted by confusion and tears. When she reached her room, the tears rushed forth.
My God, he is married. Married. He has a child, maybe more than one.
How? Why? Their love was a lie. It had never been real for him. Nausea overtook her, reminding her of the child growing within
her
womb.
A bastard child.
She would never tell Antonio of the baby. Her child deserved far better than a father who spouted deceit as naturally as if he were the devil himself.

Lying on her bed and staring at the painting of
The Last Supper
, Marta knew this was the harsh truth. It was not a bad dream. It was an unfortunate reality, and all of it constructed by a man she’d planned to dedicate her life to. How could he have looked at her the way he had? How could he have held her in his arms? Made love to her? Told her that they would be together soon? Lies. Nothing but lies.

The pleasant thoughts that had danced in her head only hours before dissolved when she looked into his eyes at the fiesta. The truth painfully revealed there. He could no longer hide behind his lies.

She’d forget him. She had to. Antonio Espinoza would mean nothing. Forget his face, eyes, words, touch, all of it. A life grew inside her and she realized she had to find a new way to live for herself, and
her
child. One in which this man would not exist for either of them. Regardless of everything else, she would love the child for what she knew it to be--a blessing from God. Decisions had to be made. Where to go? Where would she begin this new life? How would she get there? How would she provide for herself and her baby? Clearly, she could not stay here.

Suddenly, as if the good Lord himself planted it in her mind, she knew. She would go to where dreams came true. She would go to America.

When Josefina came in after the party around midnight Marta was packing. “What are you doing?” her friend asked.

“What does it look like?” Marta replied.

“I hope not what I think it looks like. Have you gone crazy? You’re not planning on leaving.”

“I haven’t gone crazy, but I am leaving,” Marta said. She placed a small crucifix around her neck.

“Think this through, Marta. Why must you go?”

Marta walked over to Josefina and wrapped her arms around her. “I’m sorry, but I cannot stay here now, not after tonight. Señor Rodriguez must be outraged with me. I ruined his celebration.”

Josefina pulled away from their embrace but held onto Marta’s arms. “You’ve ruined nothing. The fiesta went fine. Besides, if this is anyone’s fault, it’s Señor Espinoza’s. He lied to you about everything, and now you carry his child. I was so afraid of this. Men like that don’t marry girls like us. I’m sorry Marta, but I knew this to be too good to be true. I wish it wasn’t this way. But you can’t let that man ruin your life. If anyone should leave here feeling disgraced and never to return, it should be him.”

“That may be. But we both know that will never happen. Antonio will come and go as he pleases. Señor Rodriguez will not stop receiving him because he fathered my child and then broke my heart.” Marta choked back her desperate need to sob all over again.

“Why can’t you simply avoid him when he comes here? Señor Rodriguez is a fair man. He will make certain that your path never crosses with Antonio’s,” Josefina implored as she sat down on the edge of Marta’s bed.

“Even so, I will know he’s here, and he’ll surely find out about the baby. I do not want my child to have any involvement with that man.”

“Please don’t go. You’re the only true friend I have here. You’re my family.”

“I’m so sorry,” Marta whispered. She went back to putting the few things she had left into a small duffel bag.

“Where do you plan to go? How do you plan to get to wherever it is that you’re going?”

“I’m going to America, and I have no idea how I’m getting there.” She let out a quiet chuckle realizing how foolish that sounded, but it didn’t change the fact that she was going.

“It’s obvious that your mind is made up. I suppose I’ll have to help you,” Josefina said, picking up one of her friend’s sweaters and folding it for her.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. Now, make sure you pack only what you need, because the trip you’re about to make will be long and grueling. I suggest you get a couple of hours of sleep, because it may be all you are able to get for awhile.”

“What are you talking about?”

“A plan. Don’t worry. I know how to get you where you need to go.”

Marta shook her head. Surely her friend had lost her mind, but she trusted Josefina. After packing, she rested for a bit, her mind racing with thoughts of what lay before her, then with memories of Antonio--memories that now seemed so distant and unreal. She finally fell into a fitful sleep. But, no sooner had she done so than Josefina was shaking her awake.

“Come on. We’ve got to go,” she whispered. “Hide your money in two separate places. It can be dangerous out there. Are you certain that you really want to go?”

“I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Hurry up then. We don’t have a lot of time.”

Marta quickly got up and dressed. She wore an old black skirt and blouse. Pulling her long, thick hair up into a bun at the nape of her neck, she secured half of the four hundred dollars she’d saved into the hair and net. She was thankful for her long thick hair. If anyone tried to rob her, they wouldn’t think to look there. She placed the other half of the money into a jewelry bag, which had been her grandmother’s, and tucked it inside her duffel. If she were robbed, that
was
where the thieves would look, and assume that was all she had.

Josefina grabbed her by the hand. They slipped out of the servants’ area to the back gate of the estate leading to the shore. A guard with a rifle greeted them. He looked at Josefina who called out, “For the people.” The guard nodded his head knowingly, and scanned Marta up and down a look of suspicion crossed his face.

“She’s okay. Señor Rodriguez said that she could work with me tonight. He said that extra help is needed.” The guard didn’t budge. He stared hard at the two women. “If you think I’m lying go ask him yourself. I’m sure he’d be thrilled with you for waking him at this hour, especially after he’s spent his evening hosting a fiesta.”

Muttering to himself, the guard opened the gate, letting them pass through. Marta held tightly onto Josefina’s hand as they descended the rock stairway in between overgrown bushes. When they reached the sand Marta tried to ask Josefina about the incident with the guard.

“Don’t worry about that. It’s nothing. And remember, anything you might see or do tonight is secret. Don’t ask any questions, not one. You may not want to know the answers. Now let’s hurry. We haven’t got a lot of time.”

This was not normal behavior for her friend. The warning to protect secrets that she didn’t even know about was frightening.

They walked along the dark beach for a couple of miles, guided by moonlight. Marta, unsure and intimidated, hesitated at one point, almost telling Josefina that this was a ridiculous idea and they should turn back. However, Antonio’s face flashed through her mind, followed by an image of his pregnant
wife
. Her resolve hardened and she even picked up her pace.

They passed through the village and heard the songs and laughter of drunken stragglers in the palapa restaurant. Lights from the palapa reflected off the ocean’s rolling waves, their shadows following the women as they walked against the shore. The rest of the village was dark now, except for the outlines of huts spread throughout from the shore on up into the jungle’s mountainside about a quarter of the way up.

They came around a point at the south end of the beach where Josefina led them back up on a path and into the jungle. The path eventually gave way to a dirt road where they saw the headlights of a truck. It was headed in their direction. Marta’s stomach twisted.

Josefina squeezed her hand and smiled at her. “It’s fine. When the truck reaches us, climb in, and don’t say a single word to anyone.”

Once in the dark bed of the truck, Marta made out a group of men and women huddled together. She looked at her friend, who put a finger to her lips. The loaded truck took off up the winding road, its passengers jostled around by its rough surface. The truck started climbing shrouding them in humidity, its denseness filled with a pungent and dank sweetness.

They stopped nearly an hour later, deep in the heart of the jungle. Alarming, unfamiliar sounds echoed throughout the lush thick foliage—screeches from some undeterminable animal, a monkey maybe, and alarming bird calls. Marta shivered. Was this really the right thing? And what in the world were they doing in the jungles of Costa Careyes?

“Act like you belong, and do as I do,” Josefina whispered in her ear.