Thank goodness. A small inn. I enter and almost vomit at the stench of alcohol. I despise alcohol with everything in me. It is as a result of all the crazy drunkards I see on the road as I go about my activities.
Around a huge table some men are playing poker. Whoa, this place is bigger than I thought. I notice a man walking towards me, so I shine as many white teeth I can. 'Hello'.
'What are you doing here?' His voice is harsh; too harsh. I stop myself from shivering. 'I need a place to stay for the night. Don't worry, I promise I'd stay away from this area. Just give me a room or a corner to lay my head. By tomorrow I'll be out of your hair'. I cannot believe I'm begging someone who looks like he wants to cut off my head.
'We do not rent this place to Americans. Leave'.
Ouch. Really. 'Why?' I ask, completely hurt but still confused. 'That is our business, not yours', he growls, his Spanish accent very obvious. I sigh. 'Right. But please-'
'Hey! Javier!' one of the poker guys calls. The man moves to him. They exchange words in really low tones, then the Javier guy glances at me and smiles evilly. I smile back, not knowing what else to do.
He walks up to me, then rakes me with his gaze. I just hope they are not planning to ask what I think they are planning to ask. All the guys at the poker table mirror his expression.
I'm telling you; if I wasn't older and wiser, I'd pee my pants.
'You play'.
Those two words may sound like they have little or no meaning, but as Javier says this, I shiver inwardly. Play. 'Play...what?' I croak.
'Poker. You play poker, and if you win, we'd let you stay for one night. Two if you win twice. But if you lose, we do with you...' he looks at me strangely, '...as we like'. I totally get their point. Charming. I'm itching to bring my gun out, but that's just a phase. I am a champion in poker. Grandfather taught us how to play it when we were young in case of a situation like this. So although inwardly I'm laughing my head off, outwardly I'm indifferent.
'Sure. Let's start'.
Now I'm stuck in the middle of two men of ample proportions, and I'm sweating profusely. Jeez, these guys are veterans in the game. I've seen more than how many exchanges in this game and I haven't done a single one. I sigh and look at my cards. Not helping matters at all.
To cut the long story short, I lose that first round; and the happiness on the faces of these guys make me want to puke. They're waiting for the final ding-dong of a huge bell outside, and that's when we determine the winner. It's thirty minutes left. I saddle up and stare at the table like we are the ones competing.
During the next round I take a peek at my cards and almost let out a whoop. Ace!
It's down to two players; a black hunky guy and my humble self. He seems so happy to be the last man standing; and I am so happy to be the lady that'd whip him off his stool. And that's just what I do. In less than twenty minutes, I win.
'One more round!' all of them yell, and I'm stuck between the two big men again. But I win again, and I get the trophy, to their chagrin.
'Where do I sleep?' I say happily as I take in their sad faces. What a man can do, a woman can most definitely do better. That's my new motto. Roman would never want to hear that. But who cares?
'Outside the building', Javier growls, then pulls me up roughly and drags me outside; so fast I don't realize he's done it until he has, then I jump back in and throw him out after taking him out with a blow to the head [the cerebral part], then lock the door and frown at all the surprised men looking at me. 'Get me a room, or I get you your deaths'.
My voice must be very low and dangerous at this moment considering the way they all scurry to get the keys to their rooms. I love scenarios like these. Makes me feel on top of the world.
After all the haggling, I finally decide on a room that's spacious enough for me to stay in. Although the owner is sad, I'm sure he doesn't want to be gone in a few minutes.
I rest for a while, then by midnight I'm up and poring over the file, still wondering how I'd enter that stronghold. As I deliberate, I hear a scuffle. And arguments. I stand up and look over the window, then jump back as the shot of a bullet echoes. The next thing I know two people jump in and I freeze.
'The file', one says, gun targeted at my forehead. I grimace. 'What?'
'The file'.
In the twinkle of an eye, I'm out of the window and on the street. They follow and we move along the road. I'm breathing fast, but then I realize they are still in a hot chase and I cannot risk my life. Not right now. Not when I'm almost getting there. Not when I have freedom at the tip of my hands.
That's when I don't hear any footsteps. Everywhere is silent. I stop running and start taking baby steps. Then I hear a chuckle.
'You look like you have cooties'.
* * *
My head whips back to see a man jump down from a nearby tree, his face unseen as a result of the darkness around us. My neck stiffens as he walks towards me and my hands instantly move to my gun.
'Don't worry. I don't kill when it isn't necessary. They're dead'. He says it so matter-of-factly I almost don't believe him. But I see the dead men behind him, and involuntarily I become scared. 'Stay away from me'.
He smiles again, but this time it is calmer and friendlier. 'I won't kill you. I promise'.
His voice seems to reassure me and my nerves calm down. He moves his head in a direction. 'I saw your car. My home's a bit far from here. Come on. I'll drive'.
I'm no longer afraid, and for the first time in so many years, I actually trust someone the moment I see them. I follow him to the car. Wonder how he was able to know that it's mine. I open it and enter the passenger side, then slam it shut. He gets in the driver's seat and collects the key, then starts the ignition. All this while I'm examining his features.
He looks rugged; his hair all tousled, his jaw firm, his skin dark and full of sweat. His eyes look focused, though they move about a lot. It's like he's accessing the entire place at the same time. Wish I could do that.
'Staring isn't nice. Learn that', he says as the car moves. I sit up, slightly embarrassed, then sigh, fatigued. He keeps driving. 'What is it?' 'I don't know. I guess I'm exhausted', I reply. For the first time I'm truthful to someone I'm just meeting. What on earth am I thinking?
Sometime later we turn into a lane with trees lined up on each side. I become suspicious, but looking at him makes me feel more relaxed, so I rest my head on the top of the seat and close my eyes.
'Wake up. We're here'.
I open them, and my heart jumps to my throat. The view is breathtaking. We're right beside the ocean, and the sound of the waves is welcoming, like soft tunes. I get out of the car and look around. There's a small house close by, painted blue and white. The perfect color...who am I kidding? I hate blue. Red and black, more like.
He gestures to the house and we walk together, our strides in sync. When we get to the doorpost he knocks and there's a sliding noise, some movement, then the door opens to reveal a middle-aged woman with a calm face. Her gaze moves over us, then rests on him and shows recognition. I see the resemblance in the eyes and conclude that she's related to him. 'Abuela', he says, and I know I'm not wrong. But she doesn't seem like his grandma- more like his mum.
'How are you?', she replies in Spanish. 'Fine'.
All this while it feels like I'm invisible. I stand uncomfortably, feeling like I don't belong here. That's when she looks at me and smiles so broadly I think I'd get dizzy from all the love that radiates from it.
'You speak Spanish?' he asks and I shake my head. She sighs. 'Well, okay. Hello'.
With the accent that comes with it, I fall in love with her. 'Hello ma'am. Ivory Irvine'. 'Matilda Santiago. You have a very nice voice. And beautiful face'.
We don't smile in 'Ivory-land' for such things. We just nod. So I do that. 'Thank you very much'.