Lamia (5 page)

I should have known that something was different when I saw Patricia cooking breakfast, but I was so excited at the prospect of beginning a relationship with Maria, that I totally missed the significance of this.

“Where’s Maria this morning?”

“Oh John’s running her down the mountain to the tourist centre.  She occasionally acts as an adviser on treks up the mountain by tourists or scientific bodies.”

“She’s acting as a tour guide?  Isn’t she a bit young?”

“No, there are two tour guides and they look after Maria well.  They need her there because her knowledge of the area around here is unmatched, plus she speaks the local dialect and knows many of the locals.”

“How long will she be away for?” I asked in the forlorn hope that it would be a short trek.

“She’ll be away for a few weeks.  She is going on two treks, the second being a scientific expedition, so
it could be a little shorter if Maria can lead them to whatever it is they’re looking for.  It pays good money and it gives Maria more independence, especially when she returns to school.”

I could not believe what I had just been told!  Life there without Maria would seem very boring.

I suppose I was a bit like a lost puppy over the ensuing weeks.  I worked hard at times and got on well with the villagers, but life simply was not the same!
  Time dragged but eventually on my last day in Colombia, I got the news I had been waiting for.  It was as she cooked lunch that Patricia mentioned it so casually that it took me a few moments to realise what she had said.

“John should be back with Maria soon.  She didn’t want to miss your last night party.”

The words ‘Maria’ and ‘party’ were swimming around inside my head as I tried to reply in as casual manner as possible.

“Party?”

“Of course!  You don’t think we’d let you go without thanking you for all the hard work you’ve put in, do you?”

“Well thank you,” I said.  “What time will John be getting back?”

I thought I had posed the question very well by asking about John’s return, but the wry smile that Patricia gave me as she glanced in my direction, told me that she knew I was more interested in Maria’s return.

“Any time now, John went to pick her up just after breakfast.”

I think I must have blushed but my day
had been suddenly brightened.

It was hot and I was doing some repairs to a roof when the Land Rover drew up.  It was good to see Maria again, even from a distance.  She finally caught sight of me and she waved with both arms.  I think I must have speeded up because despite the heat, the job seemed to be finished in no time.  As if a bell had been rung, Maria arrived with a tray of drinks and the others gathered round as well.

“Maria, we still need those herbs for the
bandeja montañera
tonight,
”
called
Patricia.

My mind was in turmoil.  I had only just got her back and now she was going off again.  I was about to offer to go with her when
to my delight,
Maria
asked me
first.

“Why don’t you come along?”

“Oh all right,” I replied, trying not to
sound to
o excited.

Maria got her pack and we heade
d off into the forest, ambling through easy paths
,
not at all with the purpose of our previous forays.

“You know we don’t really need any herbs; mum just wanted you out of the way so she could arrange your party.”

“Oh right.  So where are we actually going then?”

“I’m taking you to one of my favourite spots around here.  I thought we might have a picnic.”

The gods were certainly shining on me that day!

After about an hour, we arrived at a rocky outcrop.

“Is this it?” I asked, but Maria was looking up the rock face.

“Up there,” she said
.

I looked up the sheer wall of rock and prayed
she did not want to climb it.  F
ollowing her around the other side, there was an easier access route with crags and bushes aiding us in our
ascent
.  It was a steep, energetic climb, but when we arrived at the top, it was worth every aching muscle.  The three-hundred and sixty degree view from the flat summit was breathtaking!

“That’s our village over there,” she said, pointing at a clearing.

Her hand was on my shoulder and her hair brushed my face, sending shivers of pleasure through my body.  We placed two blankets on the soft vegetation and Maria unpacked the picnic.  Lying on that blanket in the sun with Maria by my side is one of my most pleasant memories.  I so wanted to kiss her but I so did not know what her reaction would be.

“You look nervous,” she said.  “Here, drink this.”

She produced a stone bottle and poured a small amount of clear liquid into two plastic tumblers.  She slugged hers back in one and smiled at me.  Not to be outdone, I followed suit.  The fiery liquid hit the back of my throat and for a moment I could not breathe.  Then the coughing fit started
and Maria banged me on the back until my breathing returned to normal, even though my head still spun.

“What was that?” I gasped.

Maria smiled, telling me that it was a local brew.  There then followed my accusing
her
of trying to poison me, which started a play-fight.  Maria was quite strong for her size and in between laughter and silly-talk, she ended up sitting on me and pinning my arms to the ground.  The laughter had rendered me helpless and I lay there totally at her mercy.  It was then that we both abruptly stopped
giggling
and I knew she was going to kiss me.  Her lips were incredibly soft and it was more like kissing a
rose
.  There was no frantic passionate embrace; simply a soft, sensual, bea
utiful kiss that sapped any thought of resistance from my weakened body.
  She was such a
wonderfully
, gentle person, like a wild flower blossoming in the sunlight but also able to weather the storm
.  I was smitten.

We spent an hour or so on the rocky outcrop before heading back to camp.  Maria gave me
a key fob she had carved
while on the scientific survey
.  It was an unusual carving in the shape of an eye but with a number of rings inside each other instead of an iris.

“You see these rings,” she explained.  “Each one represents a cloak that we wear in society.  These are the images we use to represent ourselves to other people; our armour to survive the modern world.  If society ever causes you to lose your identity, look into the centre of the rings and you will remember who you really are.”

I thanked her and gave her one final kiss before we got back to camp.  It seemed odd to me that she still blushed after any intimate gesture, but I put it down to a basic shyness which would hopefully go away in time.

The party went off well but night-time came all too soon and I was left with feelings of sadness about leaving, coupled with excitement about seeing family and friends.

I left early the next morning.  Maria had decided she would go to university and we promised to email each other until my next opportunity to fly over to see her.

CHAPTER
4

I had two weeks left before my freshman year began
and I spent it with friends
and family
.  I recounted my tales of
the Colombian Andes and of course of Maria.  At first it seemed strange not having her there but as soon as I got to university, there were many other things demanding my time and my thoughts.  I was still looking forward to an email from Maria but the weeks went by without any contact.  I had sent her several messages that first few months but
I
never got a reply.  It was only when I got home at my first break that I discovered why.

I bumped into our local minister in town and we stopped for a chat.  He
had been
on holiday when I
had
returned from my trip so I had not seen him since I went away.  I told him a little of the things I learnt and the building work in which I was involved.

“Pity it was all for nothing,” he said
gravely
.  “I bet you won’t be going back there!”

“Yes I will,” I replied, although I was very confused.  “There’s a lot more work to do.”

“Yes but it’s still a dangerous place!  Who’s to say
the new village
won’t be burnt down
as well
?”

“Burnt down?”

His face was ashen as he realised I had heard nothing about the goings on in Colombia, since I left.
  I must have gone quite pale myself and we sat on a bench while he broke the bad news.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you that a few weeks after you left Colombia, the guardianes accused John and Patricia of encouraging farmers to grow coffee.  Apparently these people use harsh methods to get what they want.  The warnings were ignored and so they burned the village to the ground and kidnapped John, Patricia and Maria.  Two bodies were found some time later and
they were
taken back to
the village
for a Christian burial.
  Apparently they loved the mountains so much that they left instructions that they were to be buried there if anything ever befell them.”

“You said two bodies.”

“Yes, Maria’s body has not yet been found.
”

I was in shock. 
I had been annoyed at not having received any emails from Maria, but I had never imagined anything having happened to her.

“Is there nothing left of the village?” I asked in forlorn hope.

“Not of the village that you knew.  Some houses have been rebuilt but no church is there anymore.  It’s just too dangerous!”

This news really upset me, not just because of some fairytale romance I had with Maria, but because two wonderful people were dead and all their good work had been lost.  I spent a few moments in quiet contemplation, Hoping that Maria had
somehow
escaped and was living off the land; something I knew she was more than capable of doing.

It was nearly three years later, after I had gained my degree, that I began to once more think about Colombia.  Being one of the lucky ones who could step straight into the lucrative family business, I felt a
cut
above the rest; that was until I was toying with my keys and happened to look into the middle of the key
fob
that Maria had carved for me.
  Then I was transported back to the ideals and ambitions with which I began my studies, some of which seemed to have been fogged over in the cut and thrust of high finance.  Dad had suggested a holiday after my final exams but he was surprised when I told him that I had chosen Colombia as my destination.

“Isn’t it a bit dangerous?”

“Not now.  Things have calmed down.  They’ve even built another church there.  I was talking to our minister the other day, telling him that I’d like to pay my final respects to John and Patricia. 
He said they would be happy to have me stay for a few days.”

Mum looked a little worried but it was agreed that I should go.  Two weeks later I landed in Bogotá and was being met by
Samuel,
the new minister.  He was a short, balding man with an infectious personality and boundless energy.  He was very interested in what I could tell him about John and Patricia but he was surprised when I told him that they had a daughter.