The Witch's Market (22 page)

He laughed. “If a ghost is coming after her, there's no way she can hide. It's much more likely whom she fears is not a ghost, but a human.”

“But whom?”

“That I don't know. She's a wicked woman. She cast spells on many innocent people. She has many enemies.”

After that, my potential husband abruptly stood up. “Let's not talk anymore about unpleasant matters. Why don't we put aside these past tragedies and enjoy our lives? Eileen, please seriously consider my proposal. Perhaps you think I am too old for you, but a mature man knows how to make a woman happy.”

Of course his age was not my main concern, but it was easier if that was what he thought.

“Maria has made up the room for you,” he said. “You look tired, so feel free to take a nap. And don't worry, I will give you time to decide.”

28

Cecily's Ritual

I
'd slept soundly all afternoon, but as a result was unable to fall asleep again when night came. So I put on a sweater and stepped outside to see if a walk in the cool air would relax me. It was overcast with only a few stars pathetically shining through. A light breeze blew from the sea, soothing my frazzled nerves. The silence was occasionally broken by birds' cries, or distant barking. Walking for minutes I spotted the pond where I'd encountered Cecily and the other witches.

Through the trees surrounding the water I saw a figure, indistinct in the moonlight but substantial enough to be a human rather than a ghost. As I approached I saw that it was Cecily, this time by herself.

Cecily. Formerly Nathalia.

I slipped behind a tree to watch. On the ground was an area in the shape of a five-pointed star outlined by candles stuck into the earth. In the center, revealed by the flickering candlelight, was a crude wooden doll of a mother holding a baby. Cecily wore a cape and also a black hat, pointed like a traditional witch's hat, but with a wider brim that partly concealed her face.

She threw some powder on the doll and began to dance around the altar as she chanted in a low voice what seemed to be names of ancient gods. She continued this weird performance, then paused and from a basket extracted a live chicken. I knew what would come next and was tempted to look away but decided I needed to observe the sacrifice for documentation in my book.

Cecily lifted the bird up to the sky, then brought it down toward the earth. Mumbling another spell, she took out a sharp knife and, with a practiced hand, cut off its head. Blood spurted onto Cecily's hands as she set the poor bird—still quivering—on the altar, no doubt as an offering to some unknown, likely evil deity.

Next she took out a small jar of water and sprinkled it over the space. She continued to chant and pray, then flopped on the ground, rolling her eyes so only the whites could be seen. This was creepy, for she looked like she was transforming into a living corpse. All her strength seemed to have been consumed by the unpleasant ritual, but I still feared to approach, because I suspected she had endless reserves of evil energy.

I didn't think Cecily would be well disposed toward me when she realized that I had seen her ceremony, chicken sacrifice included. Her reaction was likely to be quite unpleasant. But this could be my opportunity to question her, and being caught in the act might loosen her tongue. I approached, making some noise so as to warn her of my presence.

When she spotted me, I said, “Cecily, is that you? I was just out for a walk. How are you?” Then I looked down at the lump of feathers and blood.

Even in the faint light I could see that she was not at all happy to see me here.

“Eileen! What are you doing here! Spying on me, are you?” She jumped up, glaring at me.

I didn't like her rudeness, but I didn't want to tangle with her either. I backed away, holding my hands out in a placating gesture.

“I'm staying at the castle, so I often go out for walks.”

“You know this is my special place for rituals. When I met you the first time I invited you here, but I never said you could come back.”

“Well, I'm here. Actually, I looked for you in your cave, but you moved out.”

“Because I want to be left alone. But since you are here, join me in the ritual.”

“I can't, not with a sacrificed chicken. . . .”

“Ah, Americans, so concerned about animals—except when dinnertime comes.”

“Maybe. For Chinese, blood sacrifice is to appease the dead. So who are you trying to appease—someone you wronged?”

I surprised myself by talking back to her like this. Previously I would not have dared. This made me realize how my stay here had changed me. With my third eye opened and having conversed with ghosts, I seemed to be getting braver.

“If you're bothered by a dead chicken, just leave. There are curses. . . .”

I ignored her threat. “This is someone else's property, so you're trespassing. And I know why you're here.”

“Really?”

“My third eye opened. Now I know a lot of things . . . that you used to be Nathalia, for example.”

I was pleased to see that I'd actually succeeded in scaring her.

“I think I have a pretty good idea of what you are doing here,” I continued. “Something to do with the woman you drove to drink, which killed her. Your one-time romantic rival, Sabrina Sanchez, right?”

“Just leave me alone, will you?!”

I didn't know where my courage came from as I went on. “Sabrina told me about your stealing her baby boy. That's what this carving of a mother holding a baby is for. To keep Sabrina from coming after you from the
yin
world! Good luck—it's not going to be so easy for you.

“And there's her daughter, Isabelle. I bet you had something to do with her demise too. She's now a restless ghost. She came to me again. However, it's not me she's after, but you.” Especially, I thought, if Cecily was the one who'd pushed Isabelle into the lake.

I could tell I'd gotten her attention because she asked, almost pleading, “What did she say?”

“Isabelle's ghost is looking to find out if she was murdered. You better do some more rituals and hope they'll leave you alone.”

“You weren't here when it happened. Everyone knows that Isabelle drowned, period. And I had nothing to with it!”

Maybe Cecily didn't. But I also noticed she didn't deny contributing to Sabrina's ruin. I was no closer to an answer, but since Cecily was so vehement in her denial, she moved to the top of my list. Alfredo moved down, but was still a suspect.

“How are you so sure she drowned if you weren't involved?” I asked.

“It was in the newspaper and no one said otherwise.”

“Or you arranged it to look like an accident. And if you didn't do it, who did?”

We remained silent for some minutes.

She vigorously shook her head. “No, it's been twenty years and there's no evidence of foul play. And why are you so interested anyway? You're just a tourist; it has nothing to do with you. So forget about it and go back to your little tryst with Alfredo!”

“I made a promise to Isabelle.”

“Ha, to a dead person? In your dreams?” She chuckled nervously.

“As a witch, you should know these things are real.”

She had no answer for this and remained silent, looking scared and worn-out. Since I seemed to have succeeded in intimidating her, at least for now, I pressed on. “Cecily, did you steal Sabrina's baby son?”

I could tell by her expression that I'd hit home.

“How did you know?”

“Hahaha!” I laughed mirthlessly. “So what Sabrina told me is true!”

“What did she tell you?”

“Everything. You're the witch she hired to cast a love spell on Alfredo. You took her money, then took her man, and then her baby boy too. No wonder she took to drink.”

“You think you know everything? There's nothing you can do.”

“What was the baby's name?”

“How do I know what the priest named him? He was messed up, that baby!”

“So you just threw him away!”

“No, I didn't. I left him at a church so he'd get a good Christian upbringing.”

“That's a laugh. When's the last time you were in a church? You'd be afraid to go, after all you've done.”

There was actually an expression of fear on her face. For all her paganism, she'd been born Catholic in a Catholic country and must have some residual anxiety after going over to the dark side.

But fortunately Luis, if he was the abandoned baby, had grown up healthy, handsome, and hardworking. But I was certainly not going to tell the witch. She was quite capable of using a spell to take him back.

“Miss-Asian-knows-it-all, leave me alone, right now!” Cecily screamed angrily.

Again, I didn't know where my courage came from, for I replied, “Or what? You'll cast spells on me? Use black magic?”

She cast me a dirty look instead. “You're just a crazy woman! I don't have time to talk to someone like you!”

With that, she turned her back on me, gathered up the candles and the doll, and vanished into the night.

PART FOUR

29

The Long-Lost Son

N
ow that I was certain Cecily had taken Sabrina's baby, I had the difficult task of informing Alfredo. Perhaps he would be happy to hear that his son was alive and had turned out okay—but then again, he might be heartbroken because of the lost years.

When I returned to the castle, I told Maria I needed to speak with Señor Alfrenso about something important. She brought me into the study and soon Alfredo arrived, looking worried. When I reminded him that I'd found his son, his eyes became as round as two kumquats.

I explained that Sabrina's baby had been stolen by Nathalia, but that for some reason she had abandoned him at the village church.

“Oh, God, why would she do that?”

“Because she thought he was sick and would bring her bad luck. Maybe she'd thought if the baby died she'd be accused of murder.”

He seemed lost in thought for several minutes, then asked, “How do you know all this?”

“I started asking around and was able to piece it together.”

He put his head in his hands, looking very upset. For a minute I was afraid he would cry and embarrass himself in front of me.

“Oh, God! Oh, God! I still can't believe this! I have a son living right next to me and never knew about him? How did that happen! These women . . . no end of trouble,” he exclaimed.

Finally he lifted his head, but now he was smiling. “So you really think my son is alive and well?”

I nodded.

“What does he look like?”

“You're lucky, Alfredo. Luis grew up to be a very nice and handsome young man. He's a skilled furniture maker, and he also loves to read and learn.”

“A reader and a furniture maker?”

“Yes, he may have been sick as a baby, but he's strong and healthy now.”

“So after all, it's good that I was with Sabrina, as now I have a son and an heir! Tell me exactly how you found Luis.”

“It really was just by chance. I wanted to find Past Life Lake and on the way I walked through the little village. Luis was working in his backyard, so we struck up a conversation. I ended up staying with him and his grandpa, who taught me sculpting.”

“But how do you know he's my son?”

“Oh, I learned that later. Sabrina told me that she'd put a silver chain with a pendent around her baby's neck. Her description matched the pendant I saw Luis wearing.”

“Yes, I know the pendant you mean. Take me to see him as soon as possible. Tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, of course.”

 

This time my trip to the village was comfortable because we were driven by Alfredo's chauffer. However, I insisted that we should walk the narrow path leading to the village, so as not to alarm anyone with an expensive car and roaring engine.

As we were approaching the village, Alfredo took my hand. I knew he was extremely nervous to meet his long-lost son. When we were still some distance from Luis's house I signaled the driver to stop.

“Look,” I said to Alfredo, “we need to figure out how to handle this. You can't just arrive at his house and tell him you're his father. He and his grandpa will be even more shocked than you. You'll shake up their life completely. Maybe they'll think it's some kind of scam.”

“Would it be that bad for me to be someone's father?”

No, I thought—who wouldn't like to discover they had a rich father? But even though Alfredo probably was not at fault, he'd have a lot of explaining to do.

Soon Grandpa came out from the house and sat at the table, followed by Luis holding a tray of food. This seemed as good a time as any for Alfredo to meet them, so I suggested that we get out and walk toward the little house. As we approached, they began to dig into their food, talking and laughing. I glanced at Alfredo and saw distress written all over his face.

Finally, he said, his tone tender, “So this is Luis, my son?”

I nodded.

“I need some more time to get used to this. Let's not disturb them yet.”

I gestured Alfredo to conceal himself with me behind a tree.

When they were finished eating, Luis cleared the table as Grandpa picked up a stone and start to sculpt. Luis went to saw wood. Minutes later, he wiped the sweat off his face and took off his shirt.

I leaned over to Alfredo. “See? He's wearing a pendant. When we go up to meet him, take a look at it and see if it's the one you gave Sabrina. Now let's go up and say hello.”

“Let's wait a little longer.”

“Why?”

“I . . .” he stammered, looking very nervous.

Just then Juan came out from the church, walked over to Luis and Grandpa's house, and sat on the front stairs. He picked up a stick and began to write on the ground with it.

“Who's that?” Alfredo asked.

“That's Juan. He's a mute and somewhat slow, but a nice kid.”

“Mute and slow? That must be why he stays in this place.”

“There are nice people in the world who are not smart and rich like you.”

“I know, I know. I'm sorry.”

Just then Luis waved to Juan and the latter walked over to sit on a stump to watch Luis work. Grandpa stood up and went back inside the house, staggering slightly.

“I'm worried that Grandpa is not well.”

“Not surprising; he's an old man.”

Alfredo would soon be also, I thought. Now that he was out of his element, Alfredo's genteel veneer seemed to be slipping.

“Now let's go and say hello. These are my friends—and one is your son. So be careful what you say.”

As we approached, both Luis and Juan looked very happy to see me, but puzzled when their eyes landed on Alfredo.

As I introduced everyone, they all seemed a bit awkward. Luis quickly excused himself and came back with a pot of tea and fruit.

“Grandpa is taking a nap. Do you want me to wake him up?” Luis asked.

I saw that Alfredo was giving his son an intense inspection, while the young man seemed only mildly curious about Alfredo.

I thought Grandpa's presence would only complicate what was already a difficult situation, so I said, “No, let him have his nap. We can all chat.”

I only introduced Alfredo as a friend because I thought the first step was for them to get acquainted. I had come to take Alfredo's suave manner for granted and so was a little surprised that now he seemed awkward and at a loss for words. He just watched Luis and me as we conversed. I guessed he was thinking what it would be like to have Luis as his son, maybe even the future head of his business.

The young man was honest and forthright, but had none of Alfredo's sophistication. Juan did not pay attention to our conversation, but occupied himself scraping words on the ground. Alfredo did not even look in his direction.

Luis smiled at Alfredo. “Señor Alfrenso, thank you so much for coming here to visit.”

Alfredo nodded but did not speak.

“Alfredo, did you notice Luis's pendant? It's an unusual one.” I leaned toward him. “I wonder if you will recognize it.”

Luis held it up proudly while Alfredo leaned over to examine.

“Very nice,” Alfredo said. “I remember seeing one like this years ago. Luis, are you interested in moving out of here someday?”

“That's my dream. I read books in the library about other countries and would like to see them sometime. Eileen told me I should see the U.S. first, especially San Francisco, and then go to China. Eileen also told me that Chinese say to read ten thousand books and travel ten thousand miles. I like that.”

“What about business and making money? Does that interest you?” asked Alfredo.

I could tell he was shocked to see his “son” shake his head.

“I make good money selling the furniture I make. I can sell that cabinet over there for twenty thousand pesetas.”

Alfredo was clearly unimpressed, not surprising as this large-sounding number was only about one hundred and thirty U.S. dollars.

Luis smiled. “Someday I would like a girlfriend. To get married and have a family.”

“Twenty thousand pesetas won't get you very far if you want a woman,” Alfredo cut in.

Luis ignored this and went on. “Someone like Señorita Eileen.” A deep blush spread over his face.

Alfredo was irritated by this. “Eileen already has other plans. Just look for a pretty local girl who can keep your house for you and grow some vegetables. Or if you really want to travel, someone who has some sense about business.”

“The girls here . . . don't know much. I want a professor, like Eileen,” insisted Luis.

Now Alfredo looked angry. “You will have to find someone else, young man. Eileen is not available and, anyway, she is not suitable for you,” he said firmly.

I didn't think things were going in a good direction so, hoping to soothe the situation, I said, “Of course Luis knows I am very fond of him, but that's all. He needs to learn more about how the world works—and I cannot imagine a better teacher than you, Alfredo.”

This flattery seemed to work, at least a little, because Alfredo's expression softened a bit. I realized that it would be difficult for him to accept that this simple country boy was his child—if he'd ever imagined his stolen baby grown up, it would be as a lawyer or businessman, not a furniture maker. I decided this would be as good a time as any to break the news.

“Luis, I have something very important to tell you.”

“You're going home soon!?” Luis looked alarmed.

“No, nothing like that. I brought Señor Alfrenso here because we think he is your father.” Then I explained to him about his pendant.

Luis looked completely stunned and our little group fell silent. Finally, he opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Juan looked up, probably sensing the tension, but, not understanding, went back to drawing on the ground.

“But, Señor Alfrenso, I . . . don't have a father.”

“Of course you do! Everyone has a father and I am yours. I'll have my driver get your things and you can move into the castle tomorrow.”

Alfredo was used to having things his way without any argument. But his authoritarian personality was at a loss here. You don't barge into a stranger's house, claim to be his father, and expect him to immediately hug you and call you Daddy.

I pulled Alfredo aside, and whispered in his ear, “Slow down. Give Luis some time to know you first.”

“But I'm getting old and don't have a lot of time!” he answered in a heated whisper.

“Calm down! Take some deep breaths. Put yourself in his shoes. Suppose you met a strange man who claims to be your father. Would you just leave and go with him? Luis doesn't know you. He'll probably be angry that you did not search harder for him. I would be angry, too, if it were me.”

Alfredo nodded, like a toreador who's just missed being gored by the bull. We went back to Luis and Alfredo maintained a sullen silence while I patiently explained everything to the young man, about how Sabrina had given birth to him, only to have him stolen by the witch, who in turn abandoned him.

After I finished, he said, “Let me ask Grandpa. Maybe he can tell me if Señor Alfrenso is really my father.”

“Luis, please don't wake Grandpa up right now. I do think Alfredo is really your father; otherwise I wouldn't have brought him here to meet you. Why don't you take some time to think it over. Then you can tell Grandpa and see what he says.”

“All right,” he said softly, but I could tell the young man was totally confused. His life to date had been simple, with the little house, his grandpa, and his craftsmanship. Now he was connected to the larger world outside and his life was completely unsettled.

Alfredo was probably as confused, but he hid it better. I suggested to him that he go home so I could stay behind to talk to Luis alone.

After the older man left, Juan continued to draw on the ground, seemingly oblivious to the father-and-son drama unfolding in front of him.

After Alfredo's silhouette disappeared down the path, I told Luis to sit down with me at the table and began to explain.

As I did so he kept shaking his head, and asking, “Is it really true?”

I nodded and told him everything—about Alfredo, Sabrina, and Cecily, about how Sabrina gave birth to him, only to have him stolen by the witch, who in turn abandoned him.

When I finished, he was unable to respond as tears coursed down his cheeks.

“It's all right, Luis,” I said, and put an arm around his shoulder. “Now you have a father, not to mention that he's very rich. So from now on you could live a very good life with every luxury you'd ever dreamed of.”

He wiped his tears. “I don't know what to think of this. You say I have a father, but I also had a mother, and now you tell me she's just died. Why didn't you tell me when she was alive?”

“I only found out from a letter she left me. I'm so sorry, Luis, but I didn't know.”

“Will you tell me about my mother?”

This was not going to be easy. I liked Sabrina, but it would be hard to describe her character in a positive way.

“Of course, but let's wait for another time, when we are all calmer.”

“If I really go to live with Señor Alfrenso, will you come with me?”

“It's nice of you to invite me. But I don't belong here. This is your country. Mine is far away.”

He sighed heavily. “I . . . I'm afraid . . . I'm in love with you, Eileen.”

I can't say it was a complete surprise—it had been pretty obvious that he was attracted to me. But I knew it didn't mean much, given that there were no other women of interest around. It was a sticky situation for me to extricate myself from.