Men of the Cave (Symbol of Hope Series) (3 page)

“And the first door on your left is the boy’s room. They have own bathroom,” Beatriz talked on and on about the rooms and the family schedule in the mornings. I pretended to hear every word, but my mind was on nine o’clock tomorrow morning and Dion.

“Your room is across from the boy’s,” Beatriz continued.

Why would he have offered to take me tomorrow? He doesn’t know me! Were all Spaniards like this?

“I leave you now. If you have any question ask Catalina, she is in her room. You maybe want to rest.”

“I do Beatriz,
gracias
. After that long flight I could use a nap.”

“Oh, yes,
este es su casa
. This is your home, now.” She turned and walked through the living room and out the front door.

I grabbed the ornate brass handle to what would be my room for the next ten months, pulled it down, and walked in. The room was the size of an extra-large walk-in closet. A twin-size bed with green and blue floral bed sheets sat under a small open window. A little wooden desk next to a large wooden armoire was parallel to the bed. A light salty breeze blew in. My suitcase sat in the middle of my tiny room, while the duffel bag and backpack were on my bed. I walked in and shut the door behind me, moved everything from the bed onto the floor and threw myself onto the bed. I took a deep breath to decompress.

Unable to relax, I sat still for a few seconds before popping up onto one side. My hand dove into the front pocket of my backpack, and pulled out my recently upgraded Blackberry. It was my parents going away present with an international calling plan. I pressed the number one, then the green send button. It rang.

“Hey
chica
! How’s the other side of the world?” said a low crackling voice.

“I haven’t been gone but a day and your voice sounds lower. Did your Adam’s apple drop while I was gone?” I replied to my little brother.

“My voice hasn’t change it’s the new hemisphere that’s got your ear drums messed up.”

“Sure, that’s it. How are things there?” I asked, a small lump in my throat starting to form. I tried to control my voice.

“Don’t start. Come on suck it up. You’re a tough cookie. Things don’t change here. You’re the one on the adventure, remember.”

“Yeah, I know. What about Sue and Frankie?”

My parents never liked the words Mom and Dad. They felt people shouldn’t have status names forced on them. They considered themselves earthy people. My brother and I always did whatever we wished, whether my parents agreed to it or not. Our childhood was one bizarre experience after another.

“They went to Cocoa Beach to watch a Native American drum show,” Nolan answered indifferent.

“And you didn’t go because…” I emphasized the ‘because.’

“I don’t know. They’re acting really loopy right now. Like, loopier than they normally are. I think your leaving has made them flip some. Or something’s up.”

“Really? I didn’t gather that from them when I left. They aren’t like that. Are you sure?” Why were my carefree parents now, after eighteen years, giving a damn?

“I don’t know, they’re just weird,” Nolan sounded fed up with them already.

“Nolan sweetie, we’ve known this since birth. That’s why we stuck together in our fight for normal.”

“Yeah, but now you’re on the other side of the world. How do I not go crazy over here?” My leaving was getting to him.

“It’s not like it can get any worse, you know what to expect from them. Make yourself scarce. Try hanging out at Tim’s house. As soon as school starts, it won’t be bad. You will be okay, I promise.”

Would he? Could he handle independence and no structure without me there? 

“Yea, I’ll keep busy and try to stay out of sight for the next few weeks. It’s just not the same without you around here.”

The minute I turned eighteen, I ran from them, and from him. Did I abandon him?

“I know. I miss you too. But you know this is a great opportunity for me and something I had to do.” The lump in my throat hardened, I tried not to cry.

“I never said I missed you. Just that it’s quieter around here.”

I could hear the tease in my brother’s voice. I smiled.

“I’ll call you soon, enough. Tell Sue and Frankie I arrived and that I’m fine. Love ya.”

“Take care, Sis. Keep me up to date. Bye.”

The phone clicked off. Letting out a big, sad sigh, I stood and put my duffel bag on my bed. Feeling like a mother bear deserting her cub, I worried about him. How could I have left him for so long in the care of my parents? Or lack of care.  They never did much looking after us. I hoped he was strong enough to be independent and that his twelve-year-old instincts would kick in. I unzipped and opened the bag. The airport security had rummaged through my belongings leaving a mess. I took out my toiletries and wondered if I would be able to keep them in the bathroom.

I could hear low rock music coming from under the door of the bathroom. Catalina and I shared a bathroom, each having our own door. I slid open my door and saw that Catalina’s was also open. Good, I thought, perhaps I could ask her. I stepped through the bathroom and peered into her room. Her room-mirrored mine including matching furniture, but hers was decorated to match the bathroom, black and white. Hanging above her bed was a big poster of a rock band. I didn’t recognize the group, I guessed they were European.

I knocked on the doorframe. “Hi, I was wondering if I can keep my toiletries in the bathroom or should I put them in…”

“Keep them where want,” she said in a low harsh voice without ever turning around from her computer.

“Okay, thanks. Can I ask you a question?”

“Not if you value your pathetic life,” she answered, still not looking up from her computer.

Shocked by her blunt rudeness I asked, “Can I ask, what‘s up? Have I done something?”

That got her attention. She turned around sharply, “What did you say?”

“Why are you so short with me? We don’t even know each other.”

She got up from her computer and stood right in front of me, “I do not like Americans!” She slammed the door shut.

I didn’t expect her to be a mean bigot. I’d get the scoop on her. I went back into my room, unpacked all of my belongings, then lay down for a nap.

Groggy, I moaned as my hungry stomach woke me. I rolled over and fell off the bed with a thud.

“Ow.”

A knock on my door followed by a, “
Estasbien
?” It sounded like Garcia.

I got up and opened the door, rubbing my shoulder. “Yeah, I’m okay… not used to a twin bed.”

“Oh,” Garcia said.

Behind him came a smaller voice, “You have slept a long time!” Rodrigo pushed past me and into the room.

“Rodrigo!
No
entres
! She has not invited you in.” Garcia scolded his little brother.

“It’s all right. I don’t mind, you guys can come in.” They both did and sat on my bed. I took a seat in the wooden desk chair.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“It is nine; we finished dinner about a half hour ago. Everybody came to see you but you were asleep. You can go downstairs and grab some if you want.” Garcia was very helpful.

“Everybody? What do you mean?” I asked.

“
Tio
Armando,
Tia
Carmen, Carlos, both Marias, Eduardo…” Rodrigo was going on and on with names.

“Hold on. Who are all these people, and why did they come to see me?”

“Aunts, uncles, cousins. They usually come to have dinner. They all wanted to meet you.” Garcia smiled.

“I see. I come from a small family just my parents, brother, and me.”

“That’s it?” My new little brother was adorably cute.

“Yup, I can’t believe how late it is. You guys eat dinner late!”

“It is normal for
aqui
, oh sorry, ‘here’,” Rodrigo said.

“I am hungry,” I said.

“What is Walt Disney World like?” Rodrigo blurted out as if he’d waited a long time to ask me this.

“It’s the happiest place on Earth, truly,” I smiled knowing he would relish the answer. Garcia rolled his eyes.

“Okay, you asked me a question, and now it’s my turn. What’s up with Catalina?”

“She is a brat,” Garcia mumbled.

“She is crazy!” Rodrigo exclaimed.

“Crazy?” I questioned.

“She is not crazy!” Garcia rolled his eyes.

“She told me she didn’t like Americans.”

“Oh, she does not. I would sleep
con un hojo
abrierto
and watch your back.” Rodrigo warned.

“Rodrigo! She is not crazy like that,” Garcia said, trying to shut his brother up.

“Wait did he tell me to sleep with one eye open?” I asked concerned.

“Yes, but do not listen to him. Let us go. She needs to eat.” They got up and walked out the door.

“Hmm,” I said. As I was about to click off the light and follow them out, the toilet flushed. Great. That meant Miss Black Nightmare was listening to our conversation.

When I passed the living room, I noticed pictures that I hadn’t before. It was a wall of photographs. In the center was a big eight by ten photo of the Castillo family. Fernando and Beatriz stood behind four children sitting in a row from oldest to youngest. First, a girl who looked like Beatriz, then a pre-teen Catalina, next to her was Garcia, about eight or nine years old and last, Rodrigo as a toddler. I wondered who this other girl was. She must be an older sister, but no one had mentioned her. I found it odd. Maybe she was away. I ran downstairs to try the swordfish.

3. Dion’s Mini Cooper

I pulled up to El Caracoles restaurant ten minutes early. I do not know why I offered to drive Kasey. Am I letting destiny take her course? I walked through the restaurant and greeted Fernando in the kitchen.

“
Buenos Dias
Señor
Fernando.
Buenos Dias
señores
,” I greeted all the men working in the kitchen.

“
Buenos Dias
Dion. Go ahead upstairs, Kasey’s room is the first door on the right,” Fernando said, not even looking up from the parsley he was chopping.

“
Gracias
Señor
, have a lovely day.” I passed the busy cooks and walked up the stairs.

Entering their home, I noticed it had not changed since I was there for the wake. I knocked twice on Kasey’s door and heard drawers slamming. The knob on the door turned and broke my contemplation.

She opened the door and with a brilliant smile and said, “
Buenos Dias
, come in.”

Waiting what seemed like centuries for this moment, I returned her smile. I reached my hand delicately, under her ear. She flinched. Her eyes danced. I pressed my lips onto her cheek and said smoothly, “
Buenos Dias
.” I let go of her and walked into the room.

“Yeah, that’s something that’s going to take some getting used to.” She flushed. Her cheeks now red contrasted against her pale skin. Her hair dazzled me, so red, so vibrant. It was like a light wavy scarlet scarf that accented the natural green jewels that were her eyes. In seconds, I knew her facial features. Then I studied the rest of her.

“You’re early,” she said.

“Actually on time. Would you like for me to wait downstairs and give you more time?”

The red and black colors of her paisley tank stood out against her pale skin. The shirt stopped above the crescent rim of her breasts, and I could only see a handful of brownish freckles above the shirt line. Her frame was smallish, somewhat petite. I think she caught me observing her because she narrowed her eyes in a disapproving manner. I shifted my gaze to her face.

“No, that’s fine. I’ll be ready in a sec. I have to pack my bag.” She reached for a small black bag and placed it on the desk. She began stocking it with pens, pencils, and notebooks. Catalina stood at the doorway, peering in. She wore her typical Goth inspired attire.

“
Buenos Dias
, Dion,” she said.

“
Hola
Catalina, how are you this fine morning?”

“Okie-Dokie,” she replied, sarcastic.

“I thought you were going to San Marina with your mother today,” Kasey said.

I could feel the tension between the two young women.

“My ride is downstairs.” Catalina ignored Kasey then stormed off.  Kasey faced me clearly bothered by the interaction.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Always.” I reached out and grabbed her bag with a smile. She returned my grin, which I took as a thank you. As we walked out of the restaurant, she made a face.

“Don’t tell me your car is the Mini Coop convertible?”

“Ah, but of course madam. Allow me to give you the ride of your life in this exquisite vehicle.” I impersonated a chauffeur.

“Oh, okay, sure.” She sat on the white leather. I cleaned the car the night before making sure that all the trash was out and it smelled nice.

“So why this car?” she asked as I started the auto and began to drive.

“An automobile is not some piece of machine you merely pick. It is an accessory to a personality.” I felt like educating her on my theories between man and machine.

“Really,” she said. “Then you know what my next question will be.”

“I chose the Mini Coop convertible because it has a gentle way. It grooves and moves with the winding roads of Mallorca. It can have unexpected speed and strength. The black and white colors, well, that is simply because there is nothing better than the classic tuxedo look.”

“Wow, Dion. How James Bond of you.”

“James Bond?” I did not particularly like the comparison she made. “I hope to think that I am not nearly as self-absorbed as James Bond.”

“I suppose that’s to be seen,” she said with a hint of intrigue.

“Well then, what car did you drive in the states?” I asked.

“An old Saturn.”

I winced at her. “It does not sound like you had a good relationship.”

“I guess not, it got me where I needed to go,” Kasey said.

“Was it at least fire red or emerald green like your features?” I asked.

“No, it was grey,” she said with a slight grin.