Back on Solid Ground (17 page)

Carlos went
into his explanation.  “We have a term where I come from: 
Media Naranja
. 
Have you ever heard the term?”

“No.”

“Translated
literally, it means half of the orange.  In spiritual terms, you are half the
orange and the person who is your
media naranja
is the other half of the
orange – the one who makes you whole,” he explained.  “You and Niki are each
other’s
media naranja
.  You’re soul-mates.”

“And you told
Niki this on the plane?” she asked in disbelief.

“I did.”

“And, you
came by this information how?”

“Your eyes
told me.  They’re the same color as Niki’s.”

“You’re just
a little bit strange aren’t you, Carlos?” she said, and Carlos laughed out
loud.  “So what did Niki say when you revealed that he had just shot and
kidnapped the other half of his orange?”

“Oh, he was
irritated,” Carlos laughed.  “He denied that your eyes were the same color as
his.”

“Actually,
our eyes
are
the same color.  I even mentioned it to him.”

Carlos was
amused.  “And how did that go down with him?”

Stacy thought
about it.  “I can’t remember.  I think he ignored me.”

Carlos was
looking at her eyes again.  It really was uncanny. “How about I cook you some
breakfast?” Carlos suggested.

“How about I
cook
you
some breakfast?” Stacy countered.

“Even
better,” he smiled. 

They talked
while they walked to the kitchen.  “Did you speak to Niki before he left this
morning?” Carlos asked.

“Just for a
second.”  She didn’t want to think about it. 

Carlos could
tell that Stacy was worried.  In fact, he knew what she was thinking.  She was
like a lightning rod for his psychic capabilities and every once in a while he
could read her mind like a book.  She was thinking about her mother and the way
she had died, and how she didn’t want to lose someone else.  The message was so
clear that Carlos responded as if she had said it out loud.

“You miss
your mother very much,” Carlos said.

Stacy stopped
dead in her tracks and looked at Carlos like he was a leper.  “How did you know
I was thinking about my mother?” she asked, clearly shocked.  “That was creepy!
You gave me goose bumps!” she said, holding out her arms and showing Carlos.

“I’m sorry, I
shouldn’t have said that.”

Once she got
over the initial shock, Stacy was ecstatic, “Oh my God, you’re psychic!” she
exclaimed.  She grabbed him by the arm, “That is too cool!  It must be
something you inherited from your grandmother.”

“I’ve always
thought so,” he agreed.

“You said she
was a healer,” she said.  “It would make sense.”

They had
reached the kitchen and Carlos started the coffee.  Stacy was digging through
the fridge pulling out everything in sight. 

“What are you
making with all that?” Carlos asked.

“Breakfast
tacos.  I hope you have tortillas.”

“In there,”
Carlos said, pointing to the freezer.

“We should
invite Consuela for breakfast.  Would you mind?”

Carlos
smiled.  “Not at all,” he said.  “You know, Stacy, you are a very nice person.”

“I have my
moments.”

Stacy was
sautéing onions and peppers and the kitchen smelled heavenly.  “Don’t you love
that smell?” she said.  “There’s nothing that smells better than onions or garlic
sautéed in butter.”

“That and
popcorn,” Carlos said.  “You like to cook then?”

“Oh yeah.” 
She thought for a second.  “Do you know, that’s the first time I’ve thought
about my everyday life since I’ve been here.”  She was quiet and then she
looked over to Carlos.  “What in the world am I going to do, Carlos?”

“Things have
a way of working themselves out,” he told her.

“I don’t see
how they can.  Things are so screwed up,” Stacy said.  “My father hired someone
to kill me; my friends and family think I’m dead; I’m totally smitten with my
kidnapper.  What’s going on here, Carlos?  Are my stars lined up in the wrong
order or something?”

Carlos
laughed.  “Maybe it’s not as bad as you make it sound.”

“What part
might not be as bad as it sounds?” she asked, but she continued before he could
answer.  “And there’s something else.  Niki told me not to think about it, but
I can’t help it.   I don’t think my mother’s death was an accident.  I think my
father killed her.”

Carlos
stopped what he was doing and looked at her.  “That’s a  serious accusation,
Stacy,” he said.  “Do you have anything to base it on?”

“You mean
other than the fact that he hired someone to kill
me?
”

“Yes.  Was
there anything that happened at the time of the accident that led you to
believe your father was involved?”

Stacy thought
back.  It had been a terrible time for her and a lot of what had happened in
the weeks after the accident was a blur. 

“No, I can’t
say that I ever suspected anything back then,” she admitted.  “My father was
always kind of reclusive, and he was always jealous of the closeness between me
and my mother.  But I never would have thought that he could do something like
that.”

“Then I agree
with Niki,” he said.  “I don’t think any good can come from you dwelling on
it.”  Carlos took Stacy’s hands in his.  “Your father is going to get what’s
owed him whether he killed your mother or not.  Niki will make sure of that. 
And I’ll tell you right now Stacy, if you don’t want Niki to kill your father,
you better let him know.  Because the way he feels about you, I guarantee
that’s the plan.”

Stacy was
silent as the words sank in.  She hated her father, but she could hardly give
the okay for someone to kill him.  “I’ll talk to Niki,” Stacy said.  She
hesitated, then asked, “How did he become who he is, Carlos?”

“Do you mean
Niki or your father?”

“I was
talking about Niki, but I see your point,” Stacy said, sounding depressed.

“You need to
talk to Niki about Niki.  It’s not my place, Stacy.”

“I know, and
I knew you would say that.”

“I will tell
you that Niki has many virtuous qualities that are a complete contradiction to
his actions,” Carlos said.  “Precisely the qualities that attract people to him
when they would otherwise be repelled.”

Stacy raised
her hand.  “That’s me!” she said.  “And I think I love him, Carlos.  I’ve known
the guy for less than a week and I’ve never felt like this about anyone in my
life.  I know it’s irrational; I know it’s illogical; I know its aberrant and
perverse and all wrong, but I can’t help it,” she said.  “And there’s not any
hope of going back to my life and picking up where I left off.  It’s just not
possible.”  She had worked herself up into a state. “What the fuck am I going
to do, Carlos?”

Carlos
laughed and put his arms around her.  “Well, when you put it like that, why
don’t I just shoot you and put you out of your misery?”

Stacy laughed
so she wouldn’t cry.

Carlos held
her at arms length and made her look at him.  “I can think of a lot of  things
worse than falling in love,” he told her. 

Stacy could
hardly argue with that one. “You’d make a good shrink,” she told him.  She
hugged Carlos and kissed him on the cheek and went back to making breakfast. 

Carlos poured
Stacy a cup of coffee.  She had mixed up the eggs and poured them into the pan
and she was chopping up tomatoes. 

“Here,” she
said, handing Carlos a block of cheese and a knife. “Make yourself useful.” 
She walked over to the intercom.  “Does this work in Consuela’s room?” she
asked.  “Oh, I see it,” she said, pushing the button. “Consuela, are you
awake?”

Consuela came
on, “Buenos dias.”

“Hola.  Come
eat with us,” she said.  Stacy turned to Carlos, “Will you ask her in Spanish?”

Carlos joined
Stacy at the intercom and invited Consuela to breakfast, assuring her in
Spanish that it was quite all right to join them.

“She’ll be
here in a minute,” Carlos said.

Stacy walked
out onto the veranda and looked down at the beach.  The shoreline was a mess,
completely covered with seaweed and muck left from the storm.   It would be a
good project to keep her busy until Niki returned.  She decided she would go
crazy if she just sat around waiting. 

“What a
beautiful morning,” she said, walking back inside.  “Let’s eat outside.”

Stacy heated
the tortillas and made four tacos for Carlos and two for herself and Consuela. 

“You’re just
in time,” Stacy said, smiling and handing her a plate.  “We’re eating outside,”
she said, pointing to the veranda.  Stacy refilled her coffee and the three
went out on the veranda and enjoyed their breakfast. 

Carlos finished
his fourth taco and sat back in his chair.  “That was delicious.  Is there any
left?”

“A lot,” said
Stacy.

“I’m going to
have one more.  Can I make either of you one?” Carlos asked, walking towards
the kitchen.

“Not me,”
Stacy said

Consuela
shook her head no.

When he had
gone, Consuela leaned over to Stacy.  “How you and Niki?” she asked, with a
conspiratorial smile.

“Oh, I don’t
know.”

Consuela
smiled like she knew a secret.  “You have Niki’s baby.”

Stacy was
horrified.  “Don’t even say that Consuela!  No es bueno,” Stacy said,
adamantly.  “It’s not good.”

Carlos came
back out and could tell that Stacy was flustered. “What’s the matter?” he
asked.

Consuela
excused herself, and Stacy turned to Carlos.  “Is Consuela psychic?”

Carlos
laughed.  “Not that I know of.  Why?”

“
Thank God
,”
Stacy said, under her breath.  “She made another stupid comment about me having
Niki’s kid,” she said irritated.  “I was horrified that she knew something that
I didn’t.”

Carlos
laughed again.  “Consuela reads too many romance novels.”

Stacy was
relieved.  “She must get lonesome here.”

“I’m sure she
probably does.  I think she has a boyfriend on the mainland.  She goes in
Wednesday mornings and comes back on Thursday afternoons.”

“She flies?”
Stacy asked.

“No, one of
our boats takes her back and forth.  They drop off our supplies when they bring
her back,” Carlos said.  “They’ll be here tomorrow if you need anything.”

“I’ll let you
know,” she said, getting up.  “I’m going upstairs to put on a swimsuit that
Consuela loaned me.  Can I go to the beach by myself?” 

Carlos
thought about it.  “Niki told me he gave you a pistol. Take it with you and you
can go by yourself.”

Stacy ran
into Consuela in the kitchen.  “Want to go to the beach?” she asked Consuela.

“I work now,
then come see you.”

“Okay, I’ll
see you on the beach,” she said.  Stacy pointed down towards the beach, “La
playa.”

“Si,”
Consuela nodded her understanding.

Stacy changed
into her swimsuit then stopped back in Niki’s room for the pistol.  The room
had his smell to it.  Stacy sat on the bed and held his pillow to her chest and
buried her face in it.  Her heart hurt and she had an overwhelming, almost
urgent need to be with him.  If she didn’t get busy she was going to go crazy.

She left
Niki’s room and went across and knocked on Carlos’ door and he called her in.

“Are there a
pair of gloves and a rake I can take down to the beach,” she asked.  “I guess I
need some garbage bags too.  I’m going to start cleaning up.” 

Carlos
couldn’t help but stare.  Stacy was wearing a bikini top and she had the pistol
tucked into the waistband of her cutoffs.

“What?”

“You look
like Calamity Jane,” he laughed.

“Shut up or
I’ll shoot you.”

“Come on,” he
said, leading her out into the hall.  “Let’s look in the tool shed.”  They went
through the house and out the kitchen door to a closet off the back of the
house.  “Let’s see what’s in here,” Carlos said, looking around.  “Here’s a
rake you can use.  There should be some gloves in here somewhere, but they’ll
be big on you.”  He moved some things around. “Oh, here they are.”  He slapped
them against the closet door to get the dried dirt off and handed them to her. 
“Check the inside for spiders before you put them on.”  He found a box of trash
bags and handed them to her.

“Thanks,
Carlos.  Why don’t you come with me?”

“I’ll come
down later,” he said unenthusiastically.  “You need to watch for snakes.  I’ve
seen them in debris like that on the beach before.”

She took off
with the rake, gloves and garbage bags and headed to the beach.  She started
right below the house and worked towards the dock, raking up  seaweed,
driftwood, pieces from the boat, palm leaves, coconuts, dead fish and countless
other forms of trash, both man-made and natural.  There was an incredible
amount of debris and her progress was slow. She decided to make several giant
piles of rubbish that could be burned later when everything dried out.  She
would fill a half dozen garbage bags at a time, then drag them up the beach
past the tidal line and empty them into the big pile.  It was hard work, but
satisfying. 

After several
hours, Stacy sat down on a uprooted palm tree and surveyed her progress.  The
pristine stretch of beach that she had cleaned was such a stark contrast to the
unsightly mess that bordered it on both sides, that it made the rest of the
beach look that much worse.    Stacy took off her gloves and shook out her
hands.  She had blisters on several fingers and on both thumbs from the
oversized gloves.  She set the gloves down beside the gun and garbage bags and
took off her cutoffs and headed for the water to cool off.  Her shoulders and
back were already pink.

The water was
incredible.  The shoreline she had cleaned had a  gradual slope and she could
still touch bottom a long way out from the shore. There were schools of
colorful fish swimming all around her and she wished she had brought a snorkel
and fins from the house.  Looking at the beach from this perspective, Stacy
could really appreciate her hard work.  The pile of debris she had built up
would make an enormous bonfire.  She decided she better start a new pile when
she resumed.