Gringa - In the Clutches of a Ruthless Drug Lord (4 page)

             
We both
laugh
at
the mental
picture.

             
‘Three green lines
…lik
e, tattoos lines …
across the forehead
. And eyebrow rings - I’ve seen eyebrow rings before, but
he had about
ten
.
’

             
‘Ten?’

             
I hold out both my hands, fingers splayed. ‘
Per
evil
, bloodshot
eye.’

             
Enfermera smiles.

             
‘Yeah, really – the motherfucker’s Masochistic
and
sadistic.’

             
‘I believe you, I believe you.’

             
‘You should, I wasn’t on opium then, so it’s all real.’

             
She nods.

             
‘Not that I’m on opium
now
.’

             
Silence.

             
‘Cause you …you took it away.’ My voice is accusing, bitter.

             
Silence.

             
‘Even though
some
people
think you’re being cruel and you should let me have some for at least another …’

             
‘We should be getting back,’ she
says and stands up
.
‘Enough exercise for you today.’

             
‘Mfff.’ Good move Witchdoctor
ess
. Change the subject and that’ll shut me up, eh? Well, I’ll sulk until you give me
my
goddamn opium.

             
‘Siempre is beautiful,
’
she says as we walk back. ‘
Friendly bunch. I’ve been there
.’

             
‘Yeah
,’ I say. ‘
I love the villagers. They make great Tequila and whisky. And they share it with foreigners too, so that makes them really, really hospitable to me.’

             
She smiles.

             
‘Even though the village lack
ed
the five star amenities we were used to – the resort, I mean - we didn’t wanna leave. We wanted to stay and just enjoy the place, the unspoilt beauty.’

             
‘Mmm …’

             
‘Yeah. Except Elaine - she desperately wanted to get back.
Sa
id something about
running out of wax strips
.
Needed to wax her upper lip.
Among other places. Other
private
places.’

             
Enfermera bursts out laughing and slaps me on the shoulder. ‘Payton you’re crack me up! You find funny in the most serious of things. Just don’t know when to be se
rious and when to be flippant. I s
uppose you drove Elaine
crazy
when you were growing up.’ For an old lady, she sure has a girlish laugh.

             
‘You betcha. I lived to irritate the bitch. She frowned so much, she
constantly needed Botox.
’

             
‘Love talking to you,’ she says, wiping the corners of her eyes. ‘Guaranteed a laugh when I do.’

             
Then her smile disappears. ‘Your family …do you think he may have ki …’

             
‘Don’t say it!’ I say holding up my hand. I shake my head and take several deep breaths. ‘My dad … he’s alive. I know it. When he sees me, he’s … he’s probably going to hold me and cry with relief, disbelief. He’s gonna regret that he never gave me the attention I deserved as a child.’

             
‘You think so?’ Enfermera asks, a frown on her forehead.

             
‘Sure. As for
Austin
…’ I place my hand on my heart when I remember him. ‘They’re all alive.’

             
‘What if you’re wro …?’

             
‘Don’t!’ I snap and storm off.

*
             
*
             
*

Three months. Three months since my rebirth, since the
asswipe
tried to kill me. But now, I’m ready to go home, back to
America
.

             
Enfermera and I are crying. I wipe away her tears and hug her.
She doesn’t say much but I know she’ll be lonely without me.
             

             
Juan is throwing impatient looks our way. He
glares
at us, frowns and then puffs vigorously on his pipe. Clearly he’s irritated at our display of emotions.

             
But we don’t care – we’re both struggling with goodbye. I’m the only connection to a world she once lived in
and she
’s the closest to a mother figure I’ve had since my mo
m
passed. 

             
‘Remember, keep practising
your Spanish,’ she whispers.
‘
If you don’t, you
’
ll lose all that you’ve learnt.
It’ll come
in handy one day.
’

             
‘
Okay,
I will.’

             
‘As for
Austin
– he’s m
ade his choice
a long time ago. Time for you to
move on
, let go
.’

             
Fat chance of that. I’m
never going to be able to let go of
Austin
. ‘Okay,’ I say and hug her again before I turn to hard
-ass Juan, hoping he will accept my goodbye
hand
-s
hake.

             
I gingerly stick out my hand.
Juan
stares at my hand as if I am handing him a grenade without the pin. I’m just about to withdraw my hand when he
bursts into tears and
grabs me to him.

             
I
’m
speechless as he hangs onto me and sobs like a kid. Loud, noisy, wah! wah! sobs. I had no idea he was capable of crying
.
I had no idea he cared.
I
gape
at Enfermera
over his shoulder
.

             
He’s shocked
away
her tears and she stares
slack-jawed
.
Somehow I don’t think she was
expecting this reaction from him, this display of emotion. 

             
I
mean, I
really thought Juan found me loud
,
maybe a little exhausting but he weeps so hard, I
find myself
comfort
ing
him
. ‘I’ll come back one day to visit,’ I whisper in his ear and pat the hunch on his back.

             
‘B
…b
ring b
i
g b
… b
eer,’ he manages to say.

             
‘I promise I will.’

             
Christ
! H
e better mean big
beer
, not big
bear.

*
             
*
             
*

The only way back to
America
is through
the
village
of
Siempre
. I hate the thought of treading there – Diablo shot me there, remember? I really want to avoid the bastard at all costs.

             
The only way to Siempre, is through the mountain
, Juan points out
.

             
I have to climb it.
‘No cable car, Juan? Fuck!’

             
‘Language!’ Enfermera chides.

             
The mountain’s daunting, eerie and I’m scared. I’ve never climbed one before, so I guess I’ll have to learn as I go. But I don’t mind too much because … I
can’t
mind. Hell, I’d move it if it meant getting out this place and back to clean drinking water, coffee, shampoo, my iPod, the internet and other such
essentials
.

             
Armed with just a map I sketched myself and two bottles of murky water, I
start to c
limb the ominous mountain. Barefoot
.
My shoes did
n’
t survive my murder.

             
Throughout my climb, I worry
about plunging to my
death. Since I’m desperate to get back to
America
, I heed the words of
Deepak Chopra
, ‘If you really want it, nothing will stop you.’
(
Or
was
it Beyonce?
Amy Winehouse? Whoever the fuck said it.
)