Captive Heart (17 page)

JoNell had never before seen anything quite like Del Toro's village cottage. As she moved around the room, becoming familiar with its furnishings, a sensation of relaxation and contentment spread through her. Whether the room had some kind of magical effect on her, or whether it was due to the altitude, she didn't know. She only knew that she felt more relaxed than she had at any time since arriving in Peru.

She walked over to the bed and rubbed her hand over the alpaca bedspread. It was smooth and soft. She sat on the bed, a smile crossing her lips at the thought of how out of place she looked in her powder-blue jump suit and white sneakers. She was a twentieth-century woman finding herself suddenly in a primitive setting of an earlier time. She stretched out on the bed, snuggling cozily into the soft cloud of the bedspread. Suddenly, she was very sleepy. She dozed briefly.

"I see you've made yourself at home," said Del Toro's voice, jolting her awake.

She opened her eyelids with an effort. The first thing she saw was a red and gold poncho topping tan breeches on a figure much taller and more robust than any of the natives she had seen.

"Why are you wearing that outfit?" JoNell asked, sitting up.

"These are the native clothes of the village," Del Toro said. "They are more comfortable and better suited for the village."

He tossed her some garments. "Put these on."

JoNell picked up a roughly woven red skirt and a poncho of yellow, red and green. On the floor by the bed were a pair of leather sandals.

JoNell looked nervously around the room. "There's no place to dress," she protested.

"You needn't worry about your modesty," he said sarcastically. "I'm leaving. There's a problem in the copper mine that I have to take care of immediately."

"When will you be back?"

"I don't know. But don't worry about finding your way around. A woman named Angelita lives just next door. She speaks Spanish. I've asked her to look after you."

With that, he strode out the door, leaving her to dress.

JoNell sat on the bed for a long moment. She was eager to explore this colorful village, but the altitude had sapped much of her strength. She decided to proceed slowly until she had adjusted to the rarified air, and took her time changing from her jump suit to the native clothing Del Toro had given her. She had smoothed her ankle length skirt when she heard a soft tapping on the door.

JoNell slipped the colorful poncho over her head and opened the door to a middle-aged, dark-skinned woman who had Mongolian features. The subtle, oriental slant of her eyes was striking. She was dressed in a yellow, ankle length skirt and had a black and red poncho draped over her shoulders. Covering her thick, black hair was a hat with a crown of straw. The hat's wide brim was covered with a green material.

"Welcome," she said with a warm smile. "My name is Angelita. I promised Jorge to look after you while he is gone."

"Come in," JoNell said. "He told me you were our neighbor." She liked this woman immediately. There was a warm earthy quality about her that was absent in the socialites she had met back in Lima.

"I want to welcome you with this tribal hat," Angelita said. Then she explained, "In these small villages, each region has its own distinctive hat. It's one of our most prized symbols of our heritage. As you see, the hats from our village have a wide green brim."

JoNell was surprised at Angelita's polish. She had expected a simple native girl, but this woman was obviously quite aware of a life apart from the village.

"Thank you," JoNell said. "It's very kind of you to offer me a gift so special." She took the hat which was a carbon copy of Angelita's and tried it on.

"It makes you look quite handsome," said Angelita. "As if you needed any help!"

"Now I'm sure I like you," JoNell laughed.

Angelita joined in the laughter. "Have you rested enough to see some of the village?" she asked.

"Yes, I think so."

"Jorge told me how the altitude affected you. The main thing to remember is to walk slowly. Life here never hurries, so you needn't worry about rushing around to see everything."

"You haven't lived here all your life, have you?" JoNell asked as the two women stepped out into the daylight. They began strolling easily down the dirt street.

"No, but I was born here, as was Miguel."

"Miguel?"

"Yes, Jorge's chauffeur. He's my nephew. You have met him?"

JoNell registered surprise. Now she realized how Miguel knew all about Del Toro's trips to this mountain village.

"Yes, of course I have met Miguel. But Del To— Jorge didn't tell me you were Miguel's aunt."

"He wouldn't." Angelita clucked her tongue. "Jorge is a great one for letting people find out things for themselves."

They passed a small, dark man sitting in front of his hut. His foot pumped rhythmically to spin a small potter's wheel. JoNell stopped to watch. The man smiled at them, revealing several missing teeth, but didn't interrupt his work.

"He's making pottery," Angelita said. "We sell our crafts to vendors in the large cities."

"Did you live in the city, Angelita?" JoNell asked, as she watched the clay ball take shape under the potter's skilled hands. He dipped his hands into a bowl of water often and kept the spinning clay wet. The clay spread out gracefully into a wide orb with a thin waist below a smaller orb on top. He worked rapidly and skillfully.

"For a while. I thought life there would be more rewarding. But after a time, I tired of it. Besides, the villagers needed me here."

"In what way?"

"I'm the schoolteacher. After Jorge gave us the money to build our school, the village wanted a teacher. But they didn't want an outsider. I was the most qualified, so I came back."

"Just like that without any regrets for leaving the city?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Are you married, Angelita?"

The woman's dark, expressive face grew sad. "I was; my husband and little son were killed in an earthquake in the city."

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I could cut my tongue out for asking," JoNell said, her face turning pink.

"That's all right. You didn't know."

Another man emerged from the hut carrying a finished vase and an assortment of paints in earthenware pots. JoNell watched as he placed the large vessel on the ground and skillfully applied bright colors to form a pastoral scene depicting life in the village. JoNell was surprised at the deftness and speed with which the artisan created colorful parrots in a palm tree and filled in orchids and wild strawberries. Llamas, burros, and alpacas strayed across the vase to merge into the background.

"He's really talented," JoNell exclaimed.

"Most of our people are skilled in crafts," said Angelita. "It is another part of our heritage from the Incas. We owe them a great deal for the life we live today."

In spite of their primitive surroundings, JoNell sensed a great pride in these simple people. She could easily identify with their loyalty to their culture. She had felt much the same when Consuelo had attacked her middle-class background.

"Would you like to go to the market?" Angelita asked.

"I'd love to."

The two women strolled leisurely past the pottery makers. JoNell was thankful that Del Toro had insisted she wear native clothes. She would have felt terribly out of place in her blue jump suit. But dressed as a native, in spite of her obvious Caucasian features, she was beginning to feel a part of the small village. Much of the credit had to go to Angelita. Her friendliness helped JoNell relax and feel accepted.

The two women rounded a corner in the area where the huts were situated and were confronted by a large, adobe structure with bamboo booths arranged along the exterior walls. Inside the building, the same kinds of booths were filled with produce, meats, fruits and various handcrafts. JoNell was impressed by a collection of dolls wearing the native costume. She wanted to buy one, but realized that Del Toro had forgotten to leave her any money. She didn't even know what the medium of exchange was here. In Lima, it was the sol, but here? She was too embarrassed to ask Angelita to buy a doll for her, even though she knew Jorge would reimburse her later. So she simply admired the dolls and walked on. Another booth held a collection of hand-painted gourds, rattles, drums, reed flutes and horns. Then they came to a jewelry booth. The delicate silver filagree impressed her.

"This looks quite expensive," JoNell said, holding up a particularly stunning necklace with a jade pendant.

"It is," Angelita nodded. She indicated the man behind the table. "He really doesn't expect to sell it here. Expensive items like this go to the large cities. He displays it for others to admire. The craftsmen derive much pleasure from competing for compliments on their work."

"Please tell him for me how gorgeous it is," JoNell asked. "It is truly exquisite."

Angelita jabbered in the strange, musical-sounding dialect to the jewelryman. He smiled broadly, bobbed his head up and down and jabbered something back.

Angelita translated. "He is quite happy that you like his work. He will make you a special price if you want to buy it." Angelita quoted JoNell a figure that made her head swim.

"Tell him thank you, but I better think it over," she said, not wanting to hurt the man's feelings.

Angelita relayed the message, and the man smiled and bobbed his head again.

"Would you like for me to help you select some vegetables and meat for supper?" Angelita inquired as they entered the food section of the market.

"Supper?"

"Yes, Jorge said you would be cooking for him." Angelita hesitated. "He said you would welcome my assistance, but I don't want to intrude, so if… "

JoNell felt her expression change from wide-eyed shock to a grateful smile. "That was a look of desperation, not fear of intrusion," she explained. "I couldn't possibly cook a meal here without your help. I wouldn't even know where to begin. Everything is so different."

Angelita smiled. "Yes, different in a special way that I think you will enjoy."

"You are right. I don't know when I've been so relaxed."

Angelita helped JoNell pick out avocados, bananas, oranges, wild strawberries and a sack of wild rice. A stringy looking meat hanging on a hook in the open air was the only choice. JoNell asked for a slice off the hindquarter that looked a little redder than the rest.

"There are spices at the house and cooking utensils," Angelita explained. "But since we have no refrigeration, we buy our fruits, vegetables and meats fresh every day."

Their final purchase was a loaf of a hard-crusted bread. Angelita paid for everything with soles, the usual Peruvian money.

JoNell noted how each purchase was wrapped separately in what appeared to be large leaves and tied with a rough twine. Angelita took from under her poncho two woven shopping bags. They sacked their purchases and started home.

"What kind of a man is Del—Jorge, really?" JoNell asked, nibbling a succulent strawberry as she walked.

"You should know that better than I." Angelita said with gentle surprise.

JoNell caught her bottom lip with her teeth. Del Toro had warned her not to reveal their business arrangement to anyone.

"I have seen only the 'big city Jorge'," she explained. "I was just wondering if he is so different in this small village."

"How fortunate that you will have the opportunity to find out now that you are here," Angelita said with a smile. "To us here, Jorge is the big
patron
, the big, kind boss. Without his copper mine, this would be the poorest of villages. It is our main industry. Many men of the village work in the mine. But Jorge does more than pay their salaries. He paid for our school; he pays a doctor to come to the village clinic to tend the sick once a month. He sends a dentist here, also. Whenever we have a need we can't take care of in the village, we know that our
patron
, Jorge Del Toro, will provide for us. He is our benefactor. Without him, the village would not be as happy a place to live."

JoNell was silent, puzzling over Angelita's words which were so much an echo of what Miguel had told her. It was hard for her to imagine Jorge Del Toro as a kind benefactor and hero to anyone. He had only shown her his selfish, ruthless nature. Unless Miguel and Angelita were in cahoots, there must be another side to Del Toro that JoNell had never seen. It was hard to believe that Angelita would lie to her. She seemed so genuine. Yet, she was the only person JoNell had spoken to in the village and might be the only one there who could talk Spanish. If that were so, JoNell would have only Angelita's word for Del Toro's kind deeds. For a reason she couldn't fathom, it was becoming increasingly urgent that she get to know the real Jorge Del Toro.

"Angelita, are you the only villager who speaks Spanish?" JoNell asked.

"Goodness, no. We have many who speak Spanish. They must in order to trade in the marketplaces in the large cities."

JoNell thought that would give her the opportunity to hear from others their view of the enigmatic Jorge Del Toro.

They arrived at the cottage. Angelita showed JoNell the spices in the colorful handcrafted urns she had seen on the shelves earlier. The most important spice was garlic, which was used in the preparation of rice, an obligatory dish at every Peruvian meal. The large, thick-skinned bananas—
platanos
—were grown for cooking. JoNell tasted one raw and made a face at its stinging flavor.

Angelita got a blaze going in the fireplace and showed JoNell how to sear the stringy meat to prepare for slow cooking in water. The earthenware pots cooked amazingly well, distributing the heat evenly throughout the food.

The two women were chatting over the cooking supper when Del Toro arrived. "You ladies seem to be having a good time," he grinned. "What have you cooked up for a hungry husband back from laboring in the mines?"

JoNell turned to look at Del Toro. She had an odd sensation that she was looking at a stranger. A subtle change had come over him since they had arrived in the village. The hard lines around his mouth were softer. His frown had relaxed. Instead of looking peculiar in the native garb of the Indian village, he seemed quite comfortably a part of the village. His voice was lighter, more cheerful.