Entry #20

Dear, Adan, Pepita is suffering.

So focused was I on my class that I did not even notice. One of my sessions had ended the other day, I was saying good bye to the children. We were nearing the end of another section in our class where we looked closely at our holiest musics. This meant another celebration was coming up! Some of the Tairona – including the very wise Mama Gondu – would be joining the children for an early evening feast in the courtyard. Oh, Adan, let me tell you; there will be music, and dancing, and we will truly bless the night.

My children were scattering to meet with their guardians to travel back to the jungle. I sneaked to the infirmary, moving down the garden path to meet with Doctor Gil inside. However, I could not find him.

“Doctor Gil?”

“He is with the Tairona at the bottom of the hill. One of them twisted their ankle hard in the fields today, so he is wrapping it.” The voice was Pepita's, but her tone was faint, and she was peeling the sheets off the bed, folding them messily, and stacking them in a wide, wicker basket.

“Oh,” I smiled, and began to peel the bed spreads, sheets, and blankets with her. “Let me help,” but she shied away from me.

“You needed medicine right? Doctor Gil left it for you, it's on the window sill by the door.”

I was rooted to my spot, surprised by her curt answer. “Pepita. Are you quite well?”

“I am busy today, Hermana Nieve, I really have no time.” She swept through the white curtain, en route to the next bed, and she nearly had made it without me seeing the welt on her cheek, but the smaller bruises lining her neck signaled me to intervene.

“Pepita,” and when I saw the welt, I gasped loudly and stepped away. “Oh my, Pepita, what is this? What happened to you?”

“You can never leave well enough alone, can you?” Pepita hissed, and I snatched the basket out of her hand, glaring stubbornly at her.

“Who did this to you?”

“Who do you think, Nieve?” She snatched her linens back, and bolted for the door, striding quickly and stiffly. I followed her, ignoring the medicine Doctor Gil had left for me on the window sill. Granted, such a prescription would help me sleep, but right now I was more concerned about Pepita. I followed her through the garden.

“Lope!”

She stopped, and spun on me in the garden. She pinned me with a defensive stare. “Yes! And I do not wish to speak of him.” But I could not let her go! Carmen was gone, the reasons for which I cannot explain, but to say I stood idly by when I knew the culprit of Pepita's abuse would be to resign myself to a life of regret. Pepita, as harsh as we began, had become my friend, and I did not want to see any harm visited upon her. What could I say to her, though, to make her talk? What could I do? She had retreated into a shell I found very difficult to crack.

Unless...

I ran back to my classroom, and retrieved the small pouch of coca I had stored by the organ. I had meant to bring it to her anyway. Now was a better time than ever. Tucking the tiny pouch into my sleeve, I crossed the courtyard again, and slipped behind the infirmary. Pepita was sitting at a wide vat filled with gray water, the surface laced with white bubbles. She had dunked most of the sheets, casings, and blankets into the vat, but left the rest of it in the basket for now. She tugged a washboard up from the bottom of the thigh high vat and hooked it to the rim. Just as she started to draw the first length of fabric across the board, I approached, and she stopped with a heavy sigh.

“Dammit, Nieve, I told you - ”

“Please,” I held out the pouch to her. “Just give me a minute of your time.”

She eyed the pouch suspiciously. “The Hell is that?”

“Coca. One of the children brought it for me, but I do not really enjoy chewing it so much.”

“You really going to buy me off with this? Is knowing more important than me, or do you really give half a damn about me, Hermana?”

“Yes,” I smiled helplessly, “and I... give half a damn. Pepita, you are the only sister I have left... Please?”

Pepita wiped her hands on her long skirt and nodded for me to join her. She sat in the shade of the infirmary's wall, and I took a seat beside her. The pouch was pulled open, and she dipped her fingers inside and tucked a wad of coca against her cheek. She began to chew the sticky stuff over, and lay her head back against the stone wall.

“What am I going to do?”

“What did he do to you, Pepita?”

“What you see, Hermana Nieve, is your answer.”

“He cannot do this to you.”

“And who will tell him to stop? You? Me? Father Leoncio? I have a good idea, let us see how long Doctor Gil lasts with his pruning sheers.”

“Pepita, this is not funny.”

Tears peeled from the corners of her eyes, and climbed over the crests of her cheeks that had lifted with a sad and so bitter smile. “I am not laughing, am I?”

“... No.”

“This is not just him, Pepita. The men are different. They will stay up all night some time. They will take Tairona women, and they will force them not to speak a word. How could they, anyway? The Tairona are strong people, and Lope's men may be stupid and reckless, but their aim is good enough.”

“The men do seem different.”

Pepita continued to chew, her brows lifting in an amused acknowledgment to, what must have seemed to her, my ironic statement. “Yes, men do seem so different sometimes.”

“No, I mean - ”

“I know what you meant, Hermana Nieve.” Pepita sighed. Her arms rest across her knees, and she swung the pouch back and forth on its small tether. Her dark hair, pulled back by a violet rag, was blowing around her battered cheeks, and her bruised, bitten neck. “My advice? Get out of here as fast as you can. I did not, and to this very moment I regret it all.” She paused, and smiled sheepishly my way. “Well, not everything.”

“You do not need to be so kind.” We were silent, and I shook my head, finally voicing my thoughts. “And you do not need to be so hurt. This... this has to stop. You know Father Leoncio and Father Alvarelo will protect you, reassign you to the village beneath the hill if they can. They would do anything to make sure no one is harmed in their mission.”

“Their mission? Nieve, this stopped being their mission the second Lope was put in charge. Realize this,” she stood, and made her way back over to the laundry vat, pocketing her pouch of coca in her skirt, “things will change. Mark my word. Get away from this place, Nieve.”

“I refuse to believe that we cannot change things,” I said as I balled my fists.