Flight to the Lonesome Place (15 page)

“There's a path, but it's a bad one. Even if we had a light, I wouldn't want to try it in the dark. We'd be better off on the Las Alturas road.”

“That's too dangerous. It's not raining as hard as it was. I'll bet Bernardo's got cars out looking for us already. The path's the only way.”

“Well, we sure can't take it till there's enough light to see by.”

Ronnie shook his head. “I'm afraid that'll be too late … unless we want to hide somewhere in the woods all day. But I don't like that. Golly, there are too many people on the watch for us already. There are four that I know of trying to find me—and there must be at least four more searching for you. And in a few hours, when Bernardo gets things organized, oh, brother!”

“But—but I don't understand,” Ana María Rosalita interrupted. “Why are they after you, Black Luis? I know you've had to hide so Bernardo wouldn't make trouble. But has it got any worse since your last letter?”

Ronnie exclaimed, “You bet it's got worse! The police and the immigration people are after him. Bernardo wants him caught and deported, and I mean fast. Bernardo's pulling every trick in the book to get that land, so a factory can be built on it. I think a big company wants it. Anyway, the surveyors were out there this morning—I mean yesterday morning—”

“Not a factory!” the tiny girl cried.

“I think so, and it'll probably be a whale of a big one. The place is on deep water, and that makes it really special. Why, if Bernardo handles things right, that land would earn a thousand times what the government would ever pay for it in land reform. I'll bet—”

“Wait!” she said. “I—I've just remembered something. When the Señora brought me to Las Alturas, Bernardo followed us upstairs and they talked about a factory. A big, big,
big
factory where they would make chemicals and plastics, and all kinds of stinky things. It would be next to a little mountain that they would grind up for the lime or something in it. And all the land around was to be flattened, and they would build hundreds and hundreds of little boxy houses that they'd rent or sell to the workers for a profit. He could talk of nothing but profit. Profit, profit, profit!”

She caught her breath and added in a whisper, “I—I didn't even dream he was talking about your place, Black Luis.”

They were silent a moment. At last Black Luis repeated sadly, “Profit, profit, profit! My papa said that a man who lives for profit would cut down every tree in the Garden of Eden to make a dollar.”

“Sure,” Ronnie muttered. “Where d'you think all the Edens have gone? Into somebody's pocket. In this world the dollar comes first.”

There was another silence. Beside him Ronnie saw that Ana María Rosalita was clenching her hands, and that a terrible anger had risen in her. Suddenly she began beating her tiny fists upon the seat. “Black Luis is my brother,” she whispered. “I'll not allow my brother to be treated so horribly. No! I'll not have it!” She was trembling now, and her voice was rising. “Oh!” she cried. “Oh! That dog! That wretch! That unspeakable thief! I'll make him wish he'd never been born!”

She stopped, and an icy calm came over her. “I must find a telephone,” she announced quietly.

“A—a telephone?” Ronnie gasped. “What in the world for?”

“To make a call, of course.”

“But—”

“Do not ask me about it. No one must even speak of it until I have made my call and done what I am going to do. It must be done. And as soon as possible. But first I must find a telephone.”

Ronnie said, “I know where to find the key to Captain Anders' cottage. Would he have a phone?”

“Not unless he had one put in after Papa sold him the place.”

Black Luis said, “We'd better try it anyway. He just might have had one put in. If not, the nearest telephone is at the Beach of the Three Brothers.
¡Madrel
I would hate to go there today with all the world looking for us.”

Ronnie frowned at his watch, then peered out at the dripping blackness. The rain seemed to have stopped. For the first time since the storm he could hear the coquis. They were shrieking happily.

“I don't know how we're going to travel in the dark,” he said. “But if we don't want to get caught, we'd sure better get started.”

Black Luis led the way, carrying Ana María Rosalita's bags. Ronnie followed, clinging to her with one hand; the other held fast to the plastic bag in which the shrimp had been packed. He had left most of the shrimp behind and kept only a small amount, which he thought they might be in need of later.

The moment they left the car he had a vivid recollection of his last dream, and he was shaken by doubt. It seemed impossible that all three of them could ever grope their way safely to the highway.

By some miracle Black Luis found the path, but now their downward progress became ten times as uncertain and difficult. The next half hour was a nightmare. They tripped over rocks and roots, and slid and fell endlessly. A slow fright grew in Ronnie. There came a terrible moment when he lost contact with Ana María Rosalita, and stepped forward into nothingness. Now the dream became reality as he plunged downward.

He thought he had fallen into a cavern when another miracle occurred. Spongy growth cushioned his fall, and he landed in what seemed to be a thicket of young tree ferns. He called out to the others, and presently Ana María Rosalita came sliding down beside him. When they followed Black Luis again, the night was graying. Soon they could hear traffic on the highway, though it was bright daylight before they reached it.

They crouched for long minutes in the shrubbery, waiting for a break in the traffic, then they dashed madly for the safety of more shrubbery on the other side. They had come out far below the captain's place. Now, aware that many eyes could be on the watch for them here, they began creeping toward the breadfruit grove with all the caution they possessed.

At the very edge of the grove Ronnie was startled by a small, sharp voice coming from a guava thicket near him. Then he realized the speaker was Marlowe.

“Hold it,
compañeros!
Praise be that you got here safely! But go no farther. There are men everywhere looking for you. Even the police were here a few minutes ago, checking on the house.”

“The police!” Ronnie whistled softly. “Marlowe, do you know if the captain has a phone?”

“Of course he has a phone! How else could he order a taxi when he needs one? He doesn't keep a car here.”

“Well, we've got to get in and call some people. Do you think we can make it through the door without being seen?”

“Sit tight a minute and I'll take a look around. If the coast is clear, as they say, I'll bring you the key.”

“It's in a coconut shell in the corner of—”

“I know where the key is hidden, brother Blue. Nothing around here escapes a smart little fellow like me.” There was a quick, sniffing sound, and abruptly Marlowe exclaimed, “
¡Madre!
I smell shrimp! I'm expiring for a shrimp!”

“Oh, Marlowe,” whispered Ana María Rosalita, “I know how you feel.” She reached quickly into the shrimp bag, then thrust her hand into the guava bush. “It's so good to be back with you, Marlowe. And thank you for biting the Señora!”

From the bush came small gurgling sounds of joy. “Um, nipping the Señora, um, was an unqualified pleasure. Ummm! There's nothing better than shrimp! Umm-m-m …”

“Except mangoes.”

“I'll, um, bring you one shortly. Now that you are with us again, um, I'm sure all our fortunes will change. Sit tight, everyone. I'll be right back.”

Hardly more than a minute could have passed when Ronnie heard a rustling in the guava bush, and a small brass key fell almost directly into his hand.

“All clear at the moment!” Marlowe said in a rush. “Make it fast, and you'll be safe. Don't forget to lock the door when you get inside, and keep away from the windows.”

They raced through the breadfruit grove, passed the great mango tree that shaded the cottage, and ran up the high flight of steps to the veranda. In seconds they were through the outer grill door and the inner door to the hall, which opened to the same key.

Inside, safe at last, both Ronnie and Black Luis collapsed in the nearest wicker chairs. But Ana María Rosalita, seemingly undaunted by all she had been through, went directly to the telephone. Ronnie could only stare at her in astonishment.

The tiny girl was mud-streaked, torn, and bedraggled; her dark hair was awry, one eye was half closed, and the side of her face was swollen and bruised. But all this did not in the least detract from her look of absolute determination when she picked up the receiver. She managed to get the operator, and in a manner as grand as a duchess she demanded that a call be put through immediately to Las Alturas.

“This is Ana María Rosalita Montoya de la Torre,” she announced, “and I must speak to Bernardo Montoya on a matter of greatest importance.”

Ronnie had never seen her like. Whether it was her manner or the Montoya name that brought instant action, he could only guess, but all at once he was aware of a furious squawking coming from the receiver, and he realized that an angry Bernardo was on the other end of the line.

“Shut up and listen to me!” Ana María Rosalita ordered. In her high, clear voice there was all the coldness and sharpness of needle-pointed icicles. “Bernardo, you must instantly stop what you are doing to poor Black Luis, or you will be terribly, terribly, sorry. Have you forgotten that my grandmother was a daughter of the Shee? I have the power. I warn you I will use it unless you do what is right. Will you leave Black Luis alone?”

From the receiver came more furious squawking. Abruptly Ana María Rosalita cried, “I have warned you, Bernardo! Now you must suffer. In an hour a wart will begin to grow on your nose. In two hours there will be another wart. By morning your face will be covered with them. There will be more, and more, and more, and they will grow uglier, and uglier, and uglier. You will become the most loathsome creature in all the islands. The only way you can ever get rid of them is to do what I have told you.”

Quietly she replaced the receiver and came to the center of the room. With a little wave of her hand, she said in her duchess manner, “I must be left entirely alone.”

Ronnie hastily followed Black Luis into the adjoining room, which turned out to be the captain's den. As he passed through the doorway he glanced quickly back, and glimpsed Ana María Rosalita sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, lips moving silently.

Black Luis whispered, “
¡Madre!
I'd sure hate to be Bernardo now!”

“You—you really believe—”

“Don't you, brother Blue?”

“I—I don't know what to believe,” Ronnie confessed. “Don't forget, I wasn't raised the way you were.”

“No,” the black boy whispered. “And what a great pity. You didn't have my advantages. I had a wise papa, and he raised me right. He said to keep faith in God and Jesus, but don't take too much stock in the local priest.”

“What was wrong with the local priest?”

“Oh, he didn't think magic was good. He taught that it all came from the devil. Imagine that! Why, the Bible is full of magic.”

Ronnie said nothing. After all, he thought, he really shouldn't
dis
believe in something just because common sense said it was impossible. Common sense had once said that man couldn't split the atom or fly to the moon. And common sense was still trying to tell him that Dr. Prynne had rocks in his head. Yet, if there wasn't a second world like this one, existing in the same space but in another dimension, where did Marlowe go to get those impossible mangoes?

Time passed, and weariness pressed down upon him. He closed his eyes and started to drift off to sleep. But plans had been at work in the back of his head, and at the thought of the telephone he became wide awake on the instant. The telephone! Yesterday, when he had decided to go to Mayagüez, he hadn't dreamed that there might be an available telephone anywhere near. It would solve a lot of problems.

He tiptoed to the edge of the hall, found the telephone book, then slipped back into the den and began studying the list of Mayagüez lawyers. The important thing, of course, was to pick the right one.

He was carefully planning how to do this when a small sound jerked his head around. Ana María Rosalita, herself again, and now a very tired and bedraggled little girl, was coming into the room.

Black Luis whispered, “You—you've done it, small sister?”

“I've done it,” she told them, as she came in and practically fell upon the sofa. “It was an awful thing to do, and it quite used me up, but it had to be done. If you could see how bad your trouble sign has become …”

Suddenly she sat up, and a look of fright came over her small pinched face. “Oh, dear! All our trouble signs are looking absolutely ghastly. I just saw mine in the mirror, Boy Blue. It's a horror, and yours is even worse. I—I hope nothing happens until I've had some rest. I'm too utterly gone to even—”

She was interrupted by Marlowe's sharp little voice. From somewhere in the dense foliage near the side window he called, “I've brought something that ought to recharge you! Unlatch the screen, somebody, and I'll toss it in.”

Black Luis swung out of his chair and started for the window. He froze in mid-stride as the telephone in the hall began to ring.

The sound brought Ronnie to his feet. He stood rigid with shock. Who could possibly be calling here? Had Bernardo guessed where they were? Or were the police on the line, hoping curiosity would betray a hidden occupant?

Again the telephone rang, imperiously demanding attention.

“Answer it!” Marlowe shrieked. “It must be important!”

Ronnie darted into the hall. With an unsteady hand he reached for the receiver.