“I hear the drums going every night.”
Jetta — white-haired, nearly forty, Danish, and teetering on the edge of anorexia — sits down beside her two friends. Lena, a Finnish blonde of the same age and walking that same thin line, and Maite, ten years younger, petite, dark-skinned, with a tumble of black curls and an easy laugh far from anorexic worries, have just come back from aerobics. They stop at the tienda for coffee.
Jetta — white-haired, nearly forty, Danish, and teetering on the edge of anorexia — sits down beside her two friends. Lena, a Finnish blonde of the same age and walking that same thin line, and Maite, ten years younger, petite, dark-skinned, with a tumble of black curls and an easy laugh far from anorexic worries, have just come back from aerobics. They stop at the tienda for coffee.
“It’s close to where you live, eh? They say he really heals people,” says Maite, eyes shining with excitement.
“They’re flocking to him from all over the island. I guess he’s got something... I’ve got to get some fruit and milk.” Lena picks up a basket and walks over to the produce section.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe in all that new-age healing stuff,” Jetta says, flopping down on a barstool. “It’s just playing on people’s imaginary illnesses. And their hunger for sensation.”
“Well, I think there’s more to it than that,” Maite counters. “You can’t chalk it all up to imagination. It’s happening everywhere—just like all those UFO sightings these days.”
“I don’t believe in that either. People are just looking for new thrills. But I’m curious—to see what goes on at these nightly gatherings. Aren’t you?”
Maite frowns, torn between curiosity and caution.
“Maybe,” she admits, “but it also scares me a bit. Suppose we go there and he singles you out? I shudder to think. I wouldn’t want some kind of supernatural treatment, would you?”
“Maybe,” she admits, “but it also scares me a bit. Suppose we go there and he singles you out? I shudder to think. I wouldn’t want some kind of supernatural treatment, would you?”
Jetta snorts and shrugs. “I just want to see what happens. With those drums going, he must be in some sort of trance. Let’s go tonight and find out what’s going on. It’s in the valley—we can watch from behind a rock or the shrubs.”
An adventurous glint sparks in her cobalt-blue eyes.
An adventurous glint sparks in her cobalt-blue eyes.
Maite hesitates; part of her wants to go, the other part pulls her back. Lena returns with her shopping and places it before Pilar, who sits at the long wooden table peeling potatoes.
“What’s that? You two planning to go?” Lena asks, intrigued.
“Yes. Tonight. You’re coming, aren’t you, Maite?” Jetta insists.
“I don’t know…” Maite murmurs.
“Cosas raras pasan allí,” Pilar interjects. Her eerie tone hangs ominously in the air. Aside from the hum of the ceiling fans, the tienda falls silent.
The three women exchange glances. Jetta breaks the stillness.
“What strange things?”
“What strange things?”
But Pilar, already on her feet, carries a pot of peeled potatoes to the back.
“What does she mean?” Maite whispers. Lena bursts out laughing, and Jetta shoots her a look.
“Don’t look so scared,” she says. “What does she know?”
“Don’t look so scared,” she says. “What does she know?”
A thundering belly laugh and loud male voices roll in from the porch, flooding the dim store.
Duncan Murray — a black American, former college football player with the neck of a bull to prove it — strides in, followed by horsy-faced Henry, a retired English photographer of rock stars, and Paul, a onetime wealthy Canadian businessman turned laid-back island drop-out. They greet the women with bear hugs and teasing.
Duncan Murray — a black American, former college football player with the neck of a bull to prove it — strides in, followed by horsy-faced Henry, a retired English photographer of rock stars, and Paul, a onetime wealthy Canadian businessman turned laid-back island drop-out. They greet the women with bear hugs and teasing.
“Hey, what ghost spooked you, girl?” Duncan grins at Maite, who indeed looks as if she’s seen one. She recovers quickly and smiles.
Laughter and chatter sweep away the old maid’s warning about strange happenings in the valley. Then Jaime returns, sporting a grin that likely means he’s duped someone again with his smooth cunning. He flips on the radio; the Bee Gees’ falsettos flood the shop. Drinks are poured, the mood lifts.
“Don’t dismiss what you can’t understand, Jetta,” Duncan says, swirling his glass. “There’s more between Heaven and Earth—”
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Jetta cuts in, eyes flashing with irritation. “It’s all tricks to squeeze money out of gullible people. I’ve seen those Filipino ‘psychic surgeons.’ All sleight of hand.”
“Pilar says funny stuff happens at those sessions,” Maite ventures, still uneasy. Duncan waves a hand, smiling.
“To the locals, everything foreigners do is weird — all sex, drugs, and rock and roll,” Lena jokes, turning to chat with Canadian Paul.
“The natives have seen more inexplicable things than you can imagine,” Duncan says, rolling his eyes dramatically. “This island’s got something… mystical. Once, driving home down the Beni Musa road, dusk falling, mist swirling around the car — like floating on clouds. Then, suddenly, there was this woman. Long black hair. Black dress. And she was running alongside the car. Kept pace exactly.”
“Get outta here!” Jetta laughs, shaking her head.
“Henry?” Duncan looks over.
Henry flashes his long yellow teeth. “That’s right. She kept pace the whole way.”
Henry flashes his long yellow teeth. “That’s right. She kept pace the whole way.”
“Some spooky stuff here, that’s for sure,” Duncan mutters. “¿Jaime, sabes que hay brujas aquí, no?”
“Hay brujas, sí. Mira...” Jaime points toward his sister, who’s talking to the dog — a Podenco.
“¿Qué quieres? No toques la comida. ¿No tienes hambre? ¿Estás enferma? ¿Qué te pasa?”
The dog gazes up, bewildered. Podencos — native to the island — are lean, fast, ghostlike hounds.
The dog gazes up, bewildered. Podencos — native to the island — are lean, fast, ghostlike hounds.
Then Rita bursts in, round and rosy, joy rolling ahead of her. “Hi guys! What’s doing?”
“Hey Rita!” Duncan beams and scoops her in. She greets everyone warmly — laughter, kisses, and noisy affection ripple through the store. On this island, warmth is a given; exuberance, a habit.
Talk shifts to the recent forest fire near San Antonio, and the old Dutch couple, Nettie and Pim, who lost their home.
“They’re staying with Eric and Pamela,” Rita says. “Lovely of them, isn’t it?” Everyone agrees.
“They’re staying with Eric and Pamela,” Rita says. “Lovely of them, isn’t it?” Everyone agrees.
Rita laughs, waddles off to shop.
“Amazing she keeps going, after all she’s been through,” Paul murmurs once she’s out of earshot.
“Amazing she keeps going, after all she’s been through,” Paul murmurs once she’s out of earshot.
“First her husband dying like that, then the mess with their son being busted for burglary…” Jetta sighs, the guru forgotten.
Everyone knows the story — Rita’s husband Tom, dead of a heart attack, after her furious lover Joachim drove his Cadillac straight through her bedroom glass doors. The tale still circulates among locals.
“She used to be so beautiful,” Paul says wistfully.
“She still is,” Duncan replies. “Got soul. That kind of beauty never fades.” The men nod in agreement.
“She still is,” Duncan replies. “Got soul. That kind of beauty never fades.” The men nod in agreement.
“You heard what Gregory’s been up to?” Jetta asks, eyes gleaming.
“His wife was here this morning,” Jaime says. “Haven’t seen her in ages.”
“He had her put away,” Paul remarks softly.
“I heard she made quite a scene in Bernat Vinya,” Duncan adds. “What’s the story?”
“Gregory’s running around with that Chinese woman… what’s her name?”
“Now that’s a witch!” Maite blurts indignantly.
“Maggie was just… odd,” Jetta says. “Turned up one day, opened the trunk of her car, called it her ‘essential Maggie’—a huge red box! I asked what was inside. She got all mysterious and then left, saying she had to go make ‘the difference.’”
Duncan raises an eyebrow.
“That’s what she said! I swear!” Jetta laughs.
Duncan drops his head, chuckling. “I don’t believe that guy. Lulu Chan? My God. He’s really taken up with her?” He shakes his head. “Maggie—now she was beautiful, inside and out. What the hell’s wrong with Greg?”
“He had her put away,” Paul remarks softly.
“I heard she made quite a scene in Bernat Vinya,” Duncan adds. “What’s the story?”
“Gregory’s running around with that Chinese woman… what’s her name?”
“Now that’s a witch!” Maite blurts indignantly.
“Maggie was just… odd,” Jetta says. “Turned up one day, opened the trunk of her car, called it her ‘essential Maggie’—a huge red box! I asked what was inside. She got all mysterious and then left, saying she had to go make ‘the difference.’”
Duncan raises an eyebrow.
“That’s what she said! I swear!” Jetta laughs.
Duncan drops his head, chuckling. “I don’t believe that guy. Lulu Chan? My God. He’s really taken up with her?” He shakes his head. “Maggie—now she was beautiful, inside and out. What the hell’s wrong with Greg?”
Jaime pours another round. “High-strung,” Henry grunts dryly.
“She acted weird this morning. Skittish. She’s gorgeous though,” Jaime adds, licking his lips.
“I knew a girl once… her name was Putzie,” Duncan begins.
The room erupts in laughter.
“Putzie? Man!” Henry bares his horse-like grin.
“Another of your tall tales?” Paul says, ambling toward Grandma Clabet in her straight-backed chair.
“¿Com va, Señora Clabet? ¿Todo bien?”
“Putzie? Man!” Henry bares his horse-like grin.
“Another of your tall tales?” Paul says, ambling toward Grandma Clabet in her straight-backed chair.
“¿Com va, Señora Clabet? ¿Todo bien?”
“In New York,” Duncan goes on, “this girl — beautiful. Mad as a hatter!”
His booming laugh fills the tienda.
His booming laugh fills the tienda.
“And?” the women chime together. But Duncan has fallen silent, a faint smile curling the corners of his full sensuous mouth.
Before long, the group grows restless. Coins clink on the bar as Duncan insists, “I’ve got this.” Farewells, backslaps, and more laughter follow as they drift toward the door. Duncan cracks a last joke to chubby Rita, whose ringing laugh echoes through the shop.
Pilar picks up her broom. Siesta time approaches.
The tienda empties, its hum fading to stillness.
Grandma Clabet rises, shuffles indoors.
Peace returns. Jaime bolts the heavy wooden doors.
The tienda empties, its hum fading to stillness.
Grandma Clabet rises, shuffles indoors.
Peace returns. Jaime bolts the heavy wooden doors.