Entry #7

My Dear Adan,

The next morning, Carmen was feeling much better. She told me that her spell faded, that she kept her soup and bread settled, and before she could thank Brother Ivan, she was asleep. When she awoke, he was gone, but she seemed surprised she had kicked off her blankets as she usually slept peacefully. We encountered Brother Ivan in the church, but he was arranging a flowers beneath the altar. I must admit, Carmen and I were rather surprised.

“Brother Ivan,” I inquired. “No mass today?”

“We rarely hold our mass on weekdays. Our congregation have trades that take them down to the coast almost every day, so we only hold our required masses."

“I see,” Carmen frowned.

“How are you feeling, Hermana Carmen?”

“Much better,” she shifted, uncomfortable.

Brother Ivan nodded. “Very good. There is breakfast in mess. Father Alvarelo would like to show you your classroom when you are finished.”

“What of Father Leoncio?” I chuckled, but Brother Ivan did not seem to enjoy my joke. He was automatically tense, and busied himself with his arrangement.

“I really must finish this.”

Carmen and I exchanged a glance, and took our leave. What a strange reaction. We met with Father Alvarelo after breakfast, and he took us to a small hovel across the courtyard from the stables. The door was painted white, an old, iron cross hung in the center. He led us inside where we found rows of little pews facing a small altar, decorated with flowers much like the colorful orchids we saw in the main church. Our pulpit also boasted a table of books, a small organ, and small stove crowned by a big kettle.

“Father Alvarelo,” I gasped, “how charming!”

Carmen rushed up the aisle to the organ, her fingers brushed the keys, occasionally pressing a few chords, playing a few scales. “Nieve, this is just perfect, simply perfect.”

The rest of the day was spent exploring the mission. We stumbled upon a library. A soldier was leaving just as we were entering, he eyed us both, and was on his way. Carmen and I began to plan our first lesson. We took a break in the afternoon for some tea which Carmen was more than happy to fetch. I remained in the library, and stretched my legs with a few laps around the shelves. The leather spines felt cool and smooth beneath the fingers I drew lazily down the row. Outside I heard a squeal, and went to the window. Father Alvarelo was in the courtyard, trying to keep a big leather ball from the stable boys. They were pawing at him, trying to jump on his back, but he roared playfully and caught one around the waist.

There was a thump behind me.

“Carmen, is that you? Come and see - ” I turned to wave her over, but no one was there. Just me and the library. “Carmen, what do you think you are doing?” I giggled. Seeing Father Alvarelo had put me in a playful mood. I would find Carmen and tickle her senseless! I heard another thump, and pinpointed the very spot. Sneaking around one of the shelves, I lunged from around the corner and found nothing. Only two books that had fallen from their vigils on the shelf.

They slid back into their place with no problem. I heard another thump, and rolled my eyes. “I see how we play the game now, Carmen. I see how we play!” I tracked the sound, and came around the corner. Just another book - my, Adan, I never knew Carmen to possess such swiftness. Silence in the library again, and then:

Thump!





Thump! Thump!



Thump! Thump! Thump!
THUMP!

Imagine my surprise when just as I was hunting down the source of the sound, there was a knock at the door. “All right, Carmen, no more making a mess. Someone is here!” I laughed and opened the door, half expecting to see Father Leoncio there to chide us. I was startled to find Carmen’s arms full with a wooden tray, a pot, a sugar bowl and vial of milk, some biscuits, and two empty cups.
“Thank you, Hermana! I was not sure I could have opened that without making a mess.”
Carmen swept inside, and made tracks for our table, covered in books. “Who were you talking to?”

“Excuse me?” I asked in a stupor.

“I said, who were you talking to? You sounded like you were having very much fun.”

“Oh, I thought I was,” I shook my head, I closed the door. “Nothing, never mind. Where had we left off?”

“Nieve! Look at this mess.”

Carmen had investigated a trail of books that lead her to a whole, emptied row. I followed her to the spot, and was speechless upon seeing all the books across the floor.

“Did you do this?”

Did I?

“No, Carmen. There was a snap, and they fell. I meant to tell you at the, uh, at the door,” I was stumbling over my words. What had happened? Had a soldier played a prank on us?

“Well, help me get these together, and when we are through here, we will alert one of the staff. I am sure they will be able to fix it. Come along, do not stand there collecting dust, now.”

For the rest of the day, I was distracted. I barely touched my meal. Everyone spoke around me, but I could not pick out any particular story from the mess of words. I did not care about the soldiers’ load jokes, or Father Leoncio’s quizzical gaze. I was happy to see Carmen in better spirits, but I did not pursue any further information as to her health. I was in my own world. Perhaps I was working myself up into an unnecessary mystery. The soldiers were as mischievous here as the stable boys were outside. Maybe they were having a little bit of fun.

Still, this explanation did little to calm me. My meal went uneaten and I excused myself early from dinner. Father Alvarelo watched me go, and I only know this because I looked back to see if he had.

My pace changed, I was propelled down the hall way. The candles in their bulbous lamps sputtered, and one winked out just as I abandoned the corridor for my room. I read a book of lyrics to settle my nerves, but even such rosy poetics failed to derail my thoughts. In fact, just holding a book made it impossible to get my mind off of what had happened in the library. I wish I knew who had done it.

In the midst of this sudden, mental storm, I was stirred by something. Sounds. I heard a sigh beside me, and my skin seemed a size too small around my body. I looked over, and saw it was only Carmen. She was swooning in her sleep. Her slumber seemed anything but restful.

The stone floor was cold along the bottoms of my feet. I drew on a poncho, one of several clothes left for us to keep us warm on the cool nights, and cool on the warm days. I pulled the hood over my head, and moved into the hall. There was laughter from down the hall, and footsteps. The laughter sounded like a woman’s, but who else lived in the mission that was a woman other than Carmen and myself?

I followed the sound all the way to the mess. My pace was slow and hesitant. I was afraid, and I was jumpy when I heard a crash from the mess hall, followed by another round of laughter. I tip-toed to the door. My heart was slamming in my chest, ready to leap into my already dry throat. I bit my lip to keep from breathing too loudly, to keep from whimpering. I kept telling myself it had to be someone in the mission, someone I had already seen, someone I had already met. I opened the door to the mess slowly, and only a crack to peek inside.

I recognized Pepita. That long dark hair, and brown skin. A candle was beside her, flickering golden light across a round, exposed thigh. A man was with her. His grin reminded me of a fox, like the one that father obsessed over for a year, Adan. The one that carried our fat hens off by the neck. He was touching her, pulling her skirts up to her hips, tracing her thighs with his mouth. He grabbed her shirt, and wound the loose neckline up in his hand. He wrenched, and I gasped. They both looked up, and I was already gone. I ran around the corner just as the door flew open.

“You decided not to stay?” The man snarled into empty hall. I pressed my hand across my mouth, afraid to move. “No longer wish to watch?” He interviewed the blackness again with a heavy snarl.

“Let them change their mind if they wish,” Pepita called to him.

“Shut your mouth,” he slammed the door, and I waited for footsteps. When I heard none, I finally exhaled, and decided it was time to attempt sleep once more. I crept back to my room, only to find that blankets had been thrown off Carmen’s bed and mine. I tucked her back in, just as she whimpered:

“Leave her alone,” but her whimper sounded so strange, not like her voice at all. Perhaps because she was so deep into her dreams. Unable to handle any other possibilities the day (or in this case, the night) had to offer, I pulled the covers around me, curled into a ball and fell into a fitful sleep.