Guardian of the Fountain (4 page)

“Sí.
This will be better for you, and muy rápido to go home.”

“Will
I be able to meet him?”

“No
se.”

“Why
won’t he let me know who he is?”

“Most
likely for your safety, Señorita. It’s very dangerous to be close to the Señor
right now. You might meet him. For now, we get you better and keep my María
happy, sí?”

“Yes,
Arturo. We’ll keep María happy.”

The
driver opened Chrissie’s door and helped her out of the vehicle. She put the
hat on the roof of the car. “Sorry.” She shrugged at the driver. Arturo was
right by her side to help her into the jet. Halfway up the stairs, she paused
for breath. The cream-colored interior looked new and expensive.
 
A twin bed sat near the back.

“Señorita,
we put you to bed now. You sleep to Venezuela. In the morning, we will be
home.”

“Home.”
She sighed. It was such a short time ago that she had been there, and she
didn’t even remember half of it. Arturo tucked Chrissie snugly into the crisp,
clean bed. “I don’t feel at home in Dallas anymore. Maybe Venezuela is where I
belong.”

A
familiar face came from behind the partition. “Hello there. Long time, no see.”

“Dr.
Wilson? How did you get mixed up in this?” Chrissie admired her clinic’s head
doctor. He had been an influential teacher at the humanitarian health clinic.
She would serve those beautiful people forever and learn much more under Doctor
Wilson’s tutelage if she was well.

“I
jumped at the chance to care for you on the way back home. I had to fight off
five other nurses and Dr. Jones to do it.” He patted Chrissie’s hand. “So, on
to the why I’m here. Let’s get you all prepped for the flight.” He gave
Chrissie a quick exam and administered a shot of pain meds for her headache to
help her sleep as they traveled. He sat right next to her bed so he could keep
a close eye on her during the flight.

She
drifted off to sleep just as the jet picked up speed down the runway. Arturo
sat by the foot of her bed and Dr. Wilson was to her left, but she was totally
unaware of anything else as the heavy feelings of medication began to take
effect.

* * *

Brant
watched as Dr. Wilson and Arturo wheeled the gurney through the French doors of
his kitchen at four a.m. His eyes paused on the face he fell in love with not
so long ago. The ghost who slumbered under a white sheet was a whisper of the
girl he longed for. Dark gray circles hung under her closed eyes, and her
cheeks were sunken and gaunt. She looked so frail as they wheeled her past him.
Her hair was stringy and dangerously patchy-thin as it lay dull across her
pillow. She’d only been gone for six weeks; she was supposed to be getting
better, not worse.

“Is
she dead? I can’t even see her chest rise and fall with breath.” Brant helped
lift the gurney up the steps to the top floor.

“She
is alive, but barely,” Dr. Wilson said. “She will sleep deeply for a few more
hours. I didn’t want her body to become stressed from travel. I’ll keep her on the
IV until she wakes up, and then we will reassess.”

“Mija!”
María wailed as she caressed Chrissie’s face.

“María,
carry this monitor up behind us and plug it in by her bed,” Dr. Wilson ordered.

Arturo
and Brant carried the gurney up the large staircase to the top floor and down
to the farthest room at the end of the hall. Arturo pushed open the door to
Chrissie’s new room. Brant tenderly picked her up off the gurney, cradling her
in his arms. Her hair still smelled of summer and gardenias. She sighed as he
laid her down onto the white jersey sheets.

Dr.
Wilson approached and checked her vitals. “I have her medical chart from the
Dallas hospital, and it states something very disturbing.”

Brant
held his breath, awaiting the news.

“She
doesn’t remember the six months prior to getting ill.” Dr. Wilson paused.

Brant
knew instantly what Dr. Wilson was implying. “She won’t remember me.” Brant’s
shoulders slumped. “That’s why I haven’t heard anything from her. She also
won’t know the secret, either.”

“It
will be imperative that she is not stressed in any way. Her weight is
dangerously low, and I don’t want anything to happen that would cause her to
lose more. Not to mention the headaches and fevers. We will see if the water
does any good. I want her in it as soon as she awakes, and call me immediately
with the results.” He paused briefly before adding, “You may not want to tell
her about you. If she doesn’t remember anything, I would wait until she is
stable before making any earth-rattling revelations.”

Arturo
escorted Dr. Wilson out. Brant sat in a chair next to Chrissie, finally getting
to hold her hand after six long weeks of agonizing separation. Her hand was
cool to the touch as he traced the veins on the back of her hand. He could see green
bruising from an IV’s lingering mark. Medically induced track marks told lies
across her arms.

Still,
the question remained. What had happened to her?

Chapter
7

Chrissie
woke to comforting humming. María sat in a rocking chair in the corner of a
small adobe-walled room. Light streamed through the open French doors that led
to a balcony. The gentle breeze flowing through the window smelled of sunshine
and exotic flowers. As her eyes focused she was able to make out the details of
her room. The homey room was just large enough to hold a queen-sized iron bed,
a nightstand, and a dressing table. Her clothes were hung in a very small
closet next to the bathroom. The bathroom door was ajar and she could see that
it was so tiny, she could sit on the potty, put a foot in the shower, and wash
her hands at the same time.

      
“Mija,
you’re awake!” María crossed the room to Chrissie’s side.

“Oh, María!
I’m so happy to see you.” Chrissie wiped the sleep from her eyes and tried to
clear the frog from her throat. “Where am I?”

 
“It doesn’t matter. Momma María will take
care of you. You’re too skinny. I feed you. Make you nice and fat.” María’s
long, dark braid was striped with silver streaks and hung limp down her back.

“You
aren’t wasting any time stuffing food down me, are you?” Chrissie pulled out
her IV line herself. “Stupid tubing. I don’t need to be tied down.”

María
moved about, unfazed that Chrissie pulled out the IV line. “Dr. Wilson want you
to leave that in, but I can do better than a bag of old saltwater. I feed you
all the best fruits from our jardín, and fresh pan today. Maybe today he will
visit, and everything will return to normal.”

“Dr.
Wilson is going to some extreme lengths for me. María, has he told you why he
is doing this?”

“Dr.
Wilson is helping but we’ll worry about everyone who is involved later. For now,
we hope for a nice long soak and a trip to the jardín.” María came and sat on
the side of Chrissie’s bed.

“How
is a garden going to make me better?”

“It’s
not the jardín—it’s what is
in
the jardín that is muy importante
.
” María
scolded Chrissie like she should’ve remembered this fact.

* * *

 
“I may be weak sauce, but I can still
walk, you know.” Chrissie’s voice quivered. María was carrying her piggyback.
Her pace was steady and strong.

“No,
you will not. Your strength needs to be saved. It would be too long of a walk
for your body. Besides, it’s just a few doors down,” María added.

“You
are freakishly strong for a woman your age.” Chrissie couldn’t even detect any
heavy breathing coming from María.

The
hallway was a large stone arch on one side looking down below into a plaza on
the other side of the black wrought-iron railing. They passed three large
knotted wooden doors before María took the fourth, a set of very large double
doors. She pushed them open with her foot and entered with Chrissie still on
her back. Chrissie had guessed María’s age to be in her late sixties, but her
strength and agility rivaled that of a woman half her age.

Large
beige Spanish tiles covered every surface except the large stone columns that
were holding up the tall, arched ceiling. The room looked like it was modeled
after a Roman bathhouse. In the center was a large pool of crystal-blue water
filled to the brim with a slight steam coming from its surface between floating
pink rose petals.
 

María
set Chrissie down on a white padded wicker rocking chair as she set to work with
the first task of her regimen to health. Chrissie tried to focus on María, but
the room spun dangerously in her head. María bolted the large doors and began
pulling back the tall, sage-colored drapes, letting natural light into the
bathing room.

I must be in a twisted fairy tale
.

The
pool of water reached out to the balcony that overlooked a large rose garden interspersed
with tropical flora. Vibrant colors cast their hues into all the nooks and
crannies of the garden.

María
returned to Chrissie and began undressing her.

Chrissie
stiffened and tried to pull her shirt back down.

“Relax.
We need your skin to be in direct contact as much as possible with the water.
You’ll still be decent.”

 
Chrissie was down to her panties and
loose sports bra before María stopped and escorted her to the edge of the pool.
Chrissie stepped wobbly down the steps and into the warm water with María,
fully clothed, by her side. María reached down, took off her own sandals, and
threw them up onto the deck.

“Mija,
you will soak until you have had enough, but do not drink the water.
Understand?”

“Yes …
but why can’t I drink the water? Not that I think that it’s a good idea to
drink pool water but it does sound odd that I’m forbidden to drink it.”

“You
will find out later, but for now, just trust me.” María turned Chrissie to
float on her back. All sounds completely faded away as Chrissie’s ears went
under.

Chrissie
tried to relax her body into the water and move with the natural waves of the
pool. She felt as though the sickness that racked her body began to lift off her
like a heavy weight. The warmth radiated completely to her bones, filling all
the achy joints with comfort. María’s hands kept Chrissie above the water while
the underwater vibration of María’s muffled hum began to lull her to sleep.

María
sang a native song. It sounded older than time, and the water seemed to
harmonize with the melody. María guided Chrissie’s floating body to the edge of
the pool as she picked up a bottle of shampoo and lathered Chrissie’s hair.

The
perfume of lilacs and roses pleased her nose as María massaged her head. Bubbles
popped against her tingly scalp. María placed a floating pillow under
Chrissie’s neck and knees, which helped her to float. María’s experienced hands
massaged botanical oils into her skin.

Time
ticked slowly away.

I don’t ever want to leave here
.

“It’s
time to get out now.” María sat Chrissie on a step. Chrissie relaxed as María
climbed out of the pool. She retrieved a large white towel and dried herself off
before changing into dry clothes. Once she was finished, she brought a large
fuzzy white robe to Chrissie.

Chrissie
reluctantly exited the warm bath and slipped into the robe. She felt ten times
stronger and much more relaxed. More importantly, she didn’t feel sick. “Do I
have to ride on your back again?” It was embarrassing to be carried like a
child by an old woman. “This is amazing. It’s the first time in weeks I don’t
feel like I don’t want to puke.”

“No.
You may walk now.” María led the way out of the bathroom and back down the hall
to Chrissie’s room. “You will find clothes on your bed, and then I will come
back for you and bring you down to lunch.”

Out
of the corner of Chrissie’s eye, she saw a tall young man in a parallel hall
that also overlooked the inside plaza. He glanced quickly over his shoulder before
retreating back into a door and closing it behind him, not staying in view long
enough for Chrissie to make out any facial features.

He
seemed vaguely familiar, like she had known him from a past life.
 
Strange that he hurried away so quickly.

“Who
was that, María?”

“I
don’t know who you are talking about. I saw no one.” María’s eyes shifted back
and forth, and her voice began to shake as it rose slightly higher in pitch.
“Maybe you saw the gardener.”

“He
was Caucasian.”

“You
think that just because he was white that he isn’t a gardener here?” María spun
around.

“Sorry.
No, I don’t think that. But it is rare to have a white gardener in Venezuela,
don’t you think, María?” Chrissie grabbed María’s hand and squeezed it.

“Sí, mija.
I was caught off guard. I didn’t think I would have to explain him. He is the
master of the house.” María’s ruffled feathers smoothed.

“Do I
know him?”

“I
was hoping you would know him if you saw him. It would make things much
easier.” María’s smile quivered.

“But
I don’t. So what does that mean for me?”

“No
se.” María’s face drooped in a frown as she closed the door behind her, leaving
Chrissie to contemplate the last few moments as she dressed in dry underwear
and a white cotton summer dress that hung loosely off her frame. Chrissie sat
at the small dressing table in the corner of her room and brushed out her damp
hair. Her arms shook weakly with each stroke, but at least this time, clumps of
hair didn’t come out. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she caught her reflection
in the mirror. She wasn’t supposed to look like walking death.

What
hair she had left hadn’t been cut in almost a year and a half before she left
on her humanitarian trip here to Venezuela. So many things had changed since
then, and she could only remember half of it. Chrissie stared at her reflection
in the mirror.
While I’m here, I swear I’ll
try to piece back together my memory of those six months.

Her
room gave no hint as to how large and grand the house was, but when María had
carried her out of it, she felt its massiveness compared to her home in Texas.
She thought she had been staying in Arturo and María’s small home at the base
of the mountain, but she was really in a very large mansion in a location she
didn’t even know.

Chrissie
left the comfort of her room and walked down the hallway to the grand staircase
that joined four halls together. The plaza was at the very center of the
mansion and brought the four wings of the home together.

With
the grand staircase at twelve o’clock and her room not too far from it, the
scene felt vaguely familiar. The natural light shone against the white
alabaster stairs as she descended to the ground floor.

Arturo
sat amongst the green vegetation, drinking a cup of coffee with a small,
half-eaten sandwich on the table next to him. “Hola,” he greeted cheerily.

“Hi, Arturo.”

“How
are you feeling?” he asked.

“Almost
as good as new. Which is weird. How can a simple bath do so much for me?”

“Sí.”
He nodded knowingly. “It is the healing water, and María’s witch’s brew that
does it.” He winked. “First part of María’s plan is to get you better. Next
part is to fatten you up. We’ll be calling you ‘gordita’
in no time.
 
My job is to
get some color in your cheeks with a little sol.”

“María.”
Chrissie sighed. “She does baby me so much.”

“She
is just worried that you might break like a fine china doll. But I believe you
are much stronger than you look. Here.” Arturo pushed a bowl of soup and a
sandwich toward Chrissie. “Eat.”

Chrissie
was oddly surprised to discover she had an appetite. She ate in the sunshine
that naturally flooded the room as Arturo filled her in what was happening in
town and at the clinic. “I will take you into town this afternoon so you can
shop for things you might need while you stay here. I can’t imagine anything that
you might need that we don’t already have, but I will obey María’s orders.
Actually, I think she wants to use this little trip as a test to see how well
you are.”

“Where
is María?”

“She
is preparing tonight’s cena. She works very hard to please the Guardian.”

“Oh,
he
does
have a title. The Guardian,” she
said in mock reverence.

A
guardian of what? María and Arturo held him in such high regard, like he was a
king or something. She was a little ticked by the notion that they keep
withholding information about this mysterious man. It made him seem so
important. The good thing was that she did feel better. Why didn’t her secret
benefactor just come out and reveal himself? What was the big deal?

“Do
you work for him as well?” Chrissie didn’t know how much information she could
pry out of Arturo.

“Sí, for
many, many years, we both have. We sell the produce we grow here in the jardínes
in the mornings and work here the rest of the day. We gave our casita to our
grandson to live in and moved here permanently about a month ago so we wouldn’t
have to travel so much.”

Chrissie
finished her small lunch down to the last drop of soup. She hadn’t eaten this
much in a long time.

“Follow
me.” Arturo motioned.

Arturo
tucked Chrissie’s hand into the crook of his arm and escorted her out a large
set of French doors and down a cobblestone path to a small wooden garage.
Inside were parked three vehicles in pristine condition—a brand-new King
Ranch Super Duty truck, a sleek black Audi, and a small two-door powder-blue
Datsun.
 

The
Datsun, she hadn’t seen on any street since she was a small girl, and even then
Datsuns were considered old clunkers. Arturo opened the door to the small
Datsun, and she slid into the passenger seat after closing her door. He climbed
into the driver’s side. The vehicle looked like it just rolled off the lot and
was in no way near-clunker condition, which only added to the mystery of this
magical place.