Three Months Later

I trudged the rocky paths to the village. The sea leapt into the night, sirens blared in the distance, with shouts from men echoed through the rear. My knees begged for a respite, yet my brain screamed ‘We’re close,’ I heeded the voice. The pathway inched me higher and steeper up the hill. Even in the dark, I beheld the infamous colourful art that adorned the valleys of the Caribbean Island. Cars stacked upon each other in the next valley I turned to, tripping over the stairs with a light squeal. Once I found my balance, I took the stairs in twos. I checked the crumpled paper resting in my hand, and when I was assured to have found the right house, I knocked on the door three times. Shuffling of feet creaked the wooden floors. I inched an ear closer, curious as to who it was to have been behind the door. I was kissed with whooshed air. With an inward gasp, I drew my head back and faced her. Her eyes drifted up and down on my figure, as had my eyes slid across her form. 

Elvita’s skin was golden brown, clean of wrinkles and adorned with spots becomen from age. Her hair was coloured almost black, glimmering with streaks of grey. She was a frail woman but could support her body without the aid of a cane or a chair. She was as endearing as many whispered to me on the beautiful Island of Puerto Rico. Since I stepped into Yauco, whether it was to perch on a bench before a beach, buy their aromatic roasted coffee beans or browse through their supermarkets, had many locals murmured of a woman who was their healer, the only indigenous woman alive in their town. Some even held pictures in their shops for admiration, especially men, for they weren’t permitted inside her home. They would recite to me stories of their history, of how genocide and colonialism severed their culture from its people. It seemed that no matter where I stood in the world, in black, brown, or white countries, had we shared the same stories. There was something whole in knowing that those tragedies and stories connected us all. I deduced her rather keenly, and she merely smiled. Her expression was warm and knowing, as though she knew how her people perceived her in her own town.

“Hola, me llamo Neith. Estoy aquí para verte.” I prayed that I had pronounced the words correctly, as in the manner I had practised them on my way down for a visit.

“I see. I see you.” Her voice soft as the salt water of the ocean.

I continued to speak in my gibberish form of Spanish I rehearsed, the English seeping in through my fumbled efforts. “I heard estas healer. Que esta’s door open always.” My ears pounding with anxiety.

Her smile broadened some more. “Si. I speak English also,” murmured she. Her voice was tender, ever so tender, I had trouble hearing her. “I only allow mujer… women in my home. La energía de los hombres es peligrosa. Men. Energy. Dangerous.”

“Si. Si,” had I responded in agreement. 

She opened her door wider, motioned with her hand, muttering what I thought to be ‘come in’. She gazed at me with profoundness, her eyes on mine. Her lips, which were shaped in a frown, sloped up, though. She approached me and said, “Sleep. We, tomorrow, talk.” Her hand reached over my head for a comforting touch, just as her eyes glossed with shine. She unwrapped the blanket which lay on the side of her couch and brought it to her chest. She reached me once more, kissing the top of my forehead. My eyes bowed as my body transpired into reprieve. It was a peculiar interaction; one I hadn’t understood. However, it eased me all the same. She urged me to lie on the couch, placing the blankets over my body, clinching beneath my chin. She stroked my head once more and smiled. “Nos vemos hija de la mañana. See you in the morning,” hushed she. She left the lamp dimmed and retreated upstairs. I was left in solitude. Something peaceful poured through me as my body slipped into a slumber. For the first time in a long time, had I felt safe in my own space. 

Roasted coffee beans tickled my nose. Upon the smell, had I blinked to awaken, only to seal my eyes when pinched by the vivid bright lights of the sunshine. A groan escaped from my chapped lips. My body yearned for a stretch, and upon opening my eyes once more, they hadn’t stung. I shifted to the side to be exposed to an open-plan garden and artefacts, which I deemed to be a lovely portrayal of divine femininity. She had dotted frames of women adorned in flowers and petals whilst naked. Her footsteps padded softly, and she appeared from the arch with a tray cradled between her hands. Elvita laid the tray on top of the table and handed me a cup of steaming hot coffee. “Aquí está tu café con leche,” she whispered. She folded the blanket when I took it off my frame, straightening my form in a sitting position. She talked low with a morning husk. Her pitch, since she had spoken from our first interaction, had failed to falter to raise or change. She made me a revoltillo, scrambled eggs with shrimp, peppers, and garnished with cilantro. Elvita showed me around her home, instructing me on how to use her bathtub. “I may take a bath. Would that be ok?”

“Si. Si. Wait for you downstairs,” returned she.

With a departed grin, she closed the door. I locked the door and undressed myself while the water ran in a stream as I brushed my teeth. I twisted the tap shut once it had reached the desired fill. I gasped as I descended and welcomed the warmth. In solitude, my mind ran wild. They reached the forbidden. The act I attempted to commit. The eyes that saw lashed with the wails, the heavy breathings, and the ferocious, merciless ocean that hadn’t let up. The body sank into the darkness, wanting to flee the very malevolence. My body convulsed and thundered upon the images capturing my mind. I must have screamed for Elvita to have appeared out of nowhere. Indeed, was I grateful for her presence. The string of cold blitzed my skin, making me shudder, and she whispered words of consolation while she wrapped a towel around me. 

“You’re safe. You’re ok.” She guided me to an empty bedroom with a single bed, desk and drawers.

Before she went, had I asked the question nagging my brain since she appeared. “How did you come into the bathroom. The door was locked.” 

Elvita’s face transformed into sheepishness. “Many women seek help. I have a lock opened outside the door just in case anything happens.” She spoke with absolute difficulty when she said the sentence in English. I pondered if there was a mystical element she carried as a healer, but I must’ve been tripping. She left me alone when I hadn’t a word to utter in return. I sat on the bed, reflecting on the misfortunes of my life. I had no family nor friends. Fuck a man, so fuck a lover.

Elvita sat idly on the couch, her head towards the one window in her living room. They shifted when my foot left the last step. “Hola,” she greeted with a perk of her head.

“Hola. Tia Elvita.”

Her smile shone brighter, gladdened to have called her with endearment. Tia Elvita headed for the front door, looking back at me. She opened the door and waited for me to close it to seal behind us. I followed her wordlessly, needless to say, where we were going. Though I found that to be fine. The Island radiated during the day. Mountains oversaw the town. It appeared giant and richly green. It was so green with trees filled with health that it seemed to be an ethereal nirvana. The curves and slopes were shaped with precision and suppleness, all the same. “La creación de Dios”, Tía Elvita murmured. 

“Huh?” Said I. 

“God create,” she nudged her chin towards the mountain. I understood what she meant, for we shared the same sentiment in my religion. A sheepish laugh brushed out of my mouth upon catching Tia Elvita analysing me. 

I responded, “Si. Si.” 

Wherever she was leading us, had taken us higher and higher up the paths, with the hills steeper and steeper. My knees angled outwards the more we hiked up the mountains. People of Puerto Rico stopped us many times to greet Tia Elvita, their eyes misting with adoration through their encounters. Men greeted her with delight. Women greeted her with embraces. Certainly, there was magic in Puerto Rico. The people were wholesome folks, the food was delicious, and the streets danced with mirth.

“You like the mountains?” Asked Tia Elvita as we trekked the paths. I, with no aid. She with the hiking stick. 

“Si.”

“Hay otras mujeres que conocerás. More women to meet.”

Tia Elvita remained composed just as I was huffing and puffing with gasping pants, wishing I had made more of an effort to exercise. “Prepárate, hija. Going up the mountain.”

“Bien,” I squeaked, catching my breath. She sat on a big rock, indicating with her hand that I should sit. 

“Agua,” whispered she, pointing at her water. I unzipped my backpack, retrieved the water bottle, and gulped water in heaps. 

It had taken us half an hour to reach the top of a small mountain peak. I detected fumes of smoke swirling in the air with cracks of fire sounding over wood. Panic set inside my body, only to be relieved upon perceiving a fire pit. My knees strained, pronounced upon hitching deeper up the peak. There was a crowd of women dressed in white huddling in a circle around the fire pit. “Hola, mi familia. ¿Cómo estás?” Tia Elvita sang in her whispery voice.

A woman with long black braids and dark skin rose from her seated position, opening her arms wide for Tia Elvita to step into them. “Estoy bien, mamá. Te esperábamos.”

“Extranaba a tu hija. Missed you,” A smile perked upon the realisation that she translated it for me. I stood behind Tia Elvita, rather nervously, and the dark-skinned woman’s eyes landed on me. With perplexity had she viewed me. The woman released Tia Elvita and asked her sharply, “Quien es ella?”

“Ah, hija. Elles es Neith. She is Neith,” Answered Tia Elvita. The woman greeted Gloria with a rolled ‘r’ and lurched towards me, wrapping her arms around me, causing me to jump. 

“No Espanol,” said Tia Elvita. 

Gloria with a rolled ‘r’ showed me the rest of the women who were studying me with trifling judgment in their eyes. They muttered words that were unrecognisable, and Tia Elvita snapped back. I detected her tone to be reprimanding, and it seemed she was the ‘leader’ of the group since her energy shifted upon meeting them. Every woman said hello to me, offering me a seat near them. Tia Elvita nudged for me to sit beside her, translating to me what the women said. “Ran away from husband, trying to get her children back from him.” 

I ought to learn Spanish, thought I. “How do you say - ‘sorry for your hardships’,” I whispered to Tia Elvita. 

She patted the top of my head affectionately. “Lo siento por tus dificultades.”

I imitated Tia Elvita’s words and attempted the pronunciation, and the women lagged heartily.

“Gracias,” uttered she, holding out her hand to put over my hand. 

With the fire cracking like a soft, incessant whisper of twigs and logs turning to glowing embers, Tia Elvita retold the experiences of the women and what they went through the past week. The women within this circle were either widowers, runaways, or lone souls, for these women were haunted by men so deeply, they were terrified to be associated with them. They prayed to their God and I to mine, with my head wrapped in a thin fabric concealing my hair. The air sowed cleanliness, the wind kissed my skin, and the sounds of Earth deeply alleviated the perennial pain. Once I finished, we gathered together around the crackling pit and professed words of gratitude. “I’m grateful for the women. I thank myself for choosing me. I’m thankful for safety. I’m thankful for this Island, and it’s people. I thank God for giving me a reason. I thank myself for choosing light,” said I upon my turn.

“Hermoso,” a woman, Mariana, complimented.

“Beautiful,” Tia Elvita translated.

“Gracias.” Suddenly, tears appeared from the corners of my eyes, a continual stream of rivers. The flicks of my finger remained pointless. “This life has been hard for me, also,” I croaked, giving reason to my emotions.

“A visa ha sido difícil para ella.” 

There were whispered consolations from the women, many gathering around me with kisses and hugs. “Estás bien ahora,” Gloria affirmed unwaveringly, and Tia Elvita nodded along. For the first time in three years, had I truly believed to be reprieved from tragedy.

by Kalina