And Along Came Spider - The Entire Series, page 28
part #0 of And Along Came Spider Series
“Oh, I can’t let you do that …”
“Why not?” he said, appearing hurt.
“Are you married, Mister Johansson?” As usual, Martina couldn’t help herself. She just had to know.
“Please. Call me Calvin,” he said, smiling again. “The answer to your question, in a word, is no. But this is Mexico, Marti. In Mexico everyone has a señorita in his bed … now and again.”
“So, is there one in yours now?” She studied his face.
“Her name is Maria.” He chuckled. “She’s the fifth one I’ve had …”
“The fifth señorita?”
“No. The fifth Maria. It seems most females here have some form of the name Mary for a handle.”
“I see,” she said blandly, no longer interested in the man. “I think you’d better not miss your stop, Mister Johansson. I believe I’d rather go it alone from here on. But thank you anyway.”
“As you wish. But before I go, I must say, I approached you for no other reason than friendship, Miss Spalding. However, since we’re from from the States you and I both, I should have known my true intentions would be misconstrued,” he said, and got to his feet.
“I’m sorry,” Marti said, near instantly. “You’re right, of course. Please accept my apology.” She patted the seat beside her as a signal for him to reseat himself. Why had she done that? Just assume every man had nothing else on his mind but a hope to discover a way into her shorts. Because it was true! But she would give Calvin a little slack, simply because he could help her immensely with her orientation into this strange land. That could be invaluable.
“I accept,” he said, plopping down again beside her.
“So, what’s your major at the university, Calvin?” she asked, hoping to revive their budding friendship.
“Pre-med, with a minor in biology …”
“Oh, so you’re studying to be a doctor?” She was gleeful the two had something in common.
“Frankly, Marti, I don’t yet know what I want to do with my life,” he said, soberly eyeing her face for a reaction. “I thought maybe I would eventually work everything into a bio-science degree, but there are so many courses along that path not offered here. I’d have to go back to the States to make that happen. And right now, that’s not a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”
“You like it that well here?”
“I do … It’s so laid back. The perfect atmosphere for someone who has little or no sense of direction in their life … ‘Wine, women, and song’ seems to be my mantra, for now.”
“Well, it does sound fun,” Marti agreed … but for him. She was far removed from that at this point in her life … In fact, she had avoided the after high school indecisive period many endure completely. Or had she …? Kicking back for a while did sound inviting, after all she’d been through these past months. Could she? Never! A gig at the University Hospital sounded inviting, though. That was her mantra: work and learn … and yes, a little sex tossed in never hurt a thing. If Calvin could have a Maria, maybe Marti could locate a Latin lover of her own, later on when the tender thoughts of Jamie had waned to a tolerable level: someone young, and tender, and perpetually aroused … on the honeymoon of his manhood. She smiled inside. Sweet Jamie!
The bus dropped them in front of the ancient, but beautiful, Guadalajara Cathedral, which was surrounded by four plazas. The whole area was laid out like a huge cross, with the cathedral at its center. Surrounding that were even more ancient structures, pleasing to the eye as well.
No doubt Calvin knew the area when he led the way, carrying both suitcases, first to the Bank of Jalisco, where she promptly converted three hundred dollars of her money to pesos. And then he took her to the Hotel of the Americas, an absolutely first class establishment, where she booked a room for a week. After some dickering by Calvin, that ended up costing her the equivalent of forty-two bucks total, and that included a menu breakfast in her room every morning.
Then, after spending a short time walking the Libertad Market, which was more than a person could take in in an entire day, they stopped at a charming patio restaurant for dinner — her treat for all he’d done for her. Then as darkness fell on them, Calvin scrambled to catch one of the last buses to the university. In parting, he promised to return the next afternoon. She still had an abundance of questions, not only about the country, but about the city, and the university in particular. And he vowed to assist her in applying for a job at the hospital there, just as soon as he made some inquires as to their need for nurses. The wages would be small; he already told her that. But in relative terms, it would be the equivalent to working in the States, the cost of living being so much less here.
That night, Martina sat on the balcony of her second floor room overlooking the rock paved plaza as hordes of people moved around below. Other than the coloring of most, there wasn’t much difference in their actions. A bit slower perhaps; more relaxed in their movements. There were lovers among them, and they were more open with their affections. More joyous too — easier to smile and laugh together.
After doing this for a short while, she finally decided to turn in for the night and headed for the shower. She was exhausted, mentally and physically drained. All the emotion of leaving Gloria and Jamie, and the lack of sleep, had taken its toll. But tomorrow was another day, in a strange land, the beginning of a new, and guaranteed different life. Hopefully for the better, but that, she knew, was yet to be seen.
In the shower, as expected, the tears came. She knew they would. Now she was more alone than she’d ever been in her life. She couldn’t even pick up the telephone and call someone for comfort. Not her folks, not Gloria, not Jamie, not anybody, for fear the call would be traced, revealing her location. And it would be that way for some time to come — months, maybe years. But she was alive, that had to be worth the initial distress. And she had met a new friend, thank God for that. He was the one that could make life easier for her to navigate, at least for the time being.
The air smelled wonderful here. The weather was ideal: not too hot; not too cold, as Slade had said. And at this elevation, that remained constant pretty much year around. That was a good thing. Better than the extreme heat of Vegas … Better than the winters of Chicago … These were all good things, she told herself to avoid the tears. However, in the end, the tears won out. But didn’t they always.
Guadalajara, Mexico
Mid-September 1955
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The following morning, Martina sat on the same balcony, slowly eating her breakfast — which mostly consisted of an assortment of fresh fruits, some of which she’d never tasted before, but found to be quite delectable — as the city groaned to life. At first just a few people appeared, then a few more, and before long, when the sun peeked over a distant mountain, the city breathed and finally bellowed. Now it was evident Guadalajara would live for another day. Like yesterday, like last year, like hundreds of years before that. Guadalajara lives … and would, it seemed, forever.
After a quick shower, she excitedly dressed into a cheerful sunflower day-dress. She would be going back to that market today. This time in an effort to see it all, blocks and blocks of everything under the sun. However, the goal today was to buy some dresses more in sync with those the locals wore; long, light, and very colorful. Just because she was a stranger in a strange land didn’t mean she needed to look strange to them, she reasoned. This early, however, she wouldn’t be surprised if the vendors were still setting up shop, in their designated areas of the street, when she got there.
Along the way, Martina came upon a group of young boys making a game of kicking a soccer ball around on the narrow street, which was walled by tall buildings on both sides. They were so quick at it, she found it impossible to pass without disrupting their game, so she waited, amused by their agility. Seeing her there, one of the boys kicked the ball to her. Surprised to see it coming, Martina reflexively gave it a good kick, and the ball went flying high in the air. Seeing her opportunity then, she dashed past them and continued on her way. She walked only a short distance, however, when one of the boys ran up beside her. He had the ball in his hand.
“Vamos, juega conmigo,” he said, excitedly.
Thinking on that for a moment, she said, “You want me to play with you?” It was clear by his expression, the boy hadn’t a clue as to what she’d just said, but he tossed her the ball anyway, and ran back to the others. “Okay,” she said, smiling. She then drop-kicked the ball again, high in the air. When it came down, they bounced it around using their heads until it finally made it to the ground. Then it was tossed back to her to kick again. After a few minutes of this, they encouraged her to get involved in the scuffle each time for possession of the ball. When a half hour had passed, however, she was exhausted. Laughing hysterically by then, she broke away and continued on.
Near immediately then, the boys began chanting: “Vamos … Vamos … Mañana!”
“Mañana, sí,” she returned. “I will come tomorrow, then.” She gave them a parting wave, and watched as they took their ball and walked away. They probably had jobs to get to, even at their age. She had seen plenty of them, from five or six on up, working at the market yesterday. Now she stressed over the fact they weren’t in school. An educated child would certainly serve the family better over time, she reasoned. But, perhaps their work was their education. She saw some children, eight or nine, making change for purchases yesterday, as the older ones waited on customers.
When Martina eventually arrived at the market, she was amazed at all the locals busily going about doing their meat, fish, and vegetable shopping for the day’s meals. Picked chickens, feet and heads still on, hung from poles overhead. As did cabrito (young goat), pork and lamb, quartered and carved to the customer’s specification. Fish of all shapes and sizes swam around in water tanks, waiting to be selected, gutted and scaled or skinned for the customer, as they preferred. The vegetable and fruit venders had an abundance of variety. Much of what was available, Martina had never seen before. Bringing some of the greens and fruits to her nose, she found many to have a strange, pungent smell that perhaps only the locals had grown to appreciate over centuries of cultivation. Even the potatoes on display were not quite the same in outward appearance as those in the States, but the smell of them seemed the same.
“You don’t like our potatoes?” A deep male voice, with a slight Mexican accent, came from behind.
“Oh! No … I mean, yes …” She whirled to see who had spoken, and found herself glaring up into the hazel eyes of a handsome middle-aged man, much taller than herself. “The potatoes are fine … It’s just they don’t look like …”
“Like the russets of America?” He smiled down on her, holding a gold crowned walking stick in his gloved hands.
“Yes … I guess …” She tore herself away from his sparkling eyes and dark features to let them slide over the rest of him: dressed in black, with a white ruffled shirt and a cute little string tie at his neck. “You aren’t a vendor … are you?” Her eyes found his again.
“No. I’m not a vendor.” He chuckled. “But, I must admit life would certainly be simpler if I were. To make it easy for you, the name is Carlos Alfonzo Reyes,” he said. Then when he saw the puzzled look on her face, he continued. “I am the governor of Jalisco.”
“The bank …?” Martina said, remembering where she had exchanged her money yesterday: The Bank of Jalisco.
“Oh, no madame.” He chuckled again. “The state of Jalisco. It takes in all of Guadalajara and then some … I have tens of millions of people under my jurisdiction.”
With that, Martina brought a hand to her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry! How disrespectful of me …”
“It’s quite all right,” he said. “Most Americans have no knowledge of how things are in Mexico. Once they got Tejas from us, it seems they lost all interest in what remained.”
“Well, I can say with honesty, that I had absolutely nothing to do with any of that.” She laughed. “Texas’ independence was a bit before my time.”
“Yes, I guess it was,” he said, with the slightest of smiles. “Do you have a name, madame?”
Being caught off guard, she had little choice under his glare but to blurt it out. “I’m sorry. Martina Spalding.” She, by habit then, poked out a hand.
Carlos took it, and with a bow, kissed it. “Madame, it is always good to have such a beautiful lady visit our country. Even if she happens to hail from America.”
“I gather you don’t like us much?” she said, overlooking the compliment.
“Madame, you are confusing yourself with your country. I am finding you quite charming,” Carlos said. “However, you are right. I have been rude. Please let me make it up to you. Will you be so kind as to join me, and some others, for dinner tonight at the palace, Miss Spalding? It is Miss, isn’t it?”
“Ah … yes it is … But …?”
“May I be so bold as to inform you, it is a capital crime in Mexico to refuse a dinner invitation from a governor?” He chuckled again. “My carriage will gather you at your hotel at …”
“But … I don’t know what to wear … You don’t even know where I’m staying …” Her mind was a whirl …
“Oh, but I do. You see, the Governor’s Palace is just across the plaza from your hotel,” Carlos said. “I believe I saw you eating breakfast on the balcony of your room early this morning.”
“You were spying on me …” Marti was shocked.
“I believe, Madame, it was you that put yourself on public display.” He chuckled again. “I’ll have a proper gown sent to your room at the hotel. Dinner will be promptly at eight. My carriage will be out front of the hotel by seven. Board it whenever you’re ready.” He bowed, and turned to walk away.
“Mister Reyes … Ah, Governor,” she called after him.
“Yes, madame,” he turned and re-approached her.
“Do you make it a habit of spotting pretty girls across the way and inviting them to dinner? And if so, what do you expect from them?”
“I expect nothing from you, Miss Spalding. In fact, my invitation had nothing to do with your beauty, or the fact that your loneliness showed, as you ate your breakfast in solitude,” he said sincerely, his brow furrowed. “What prompted the invitation was the compassion you showed for the small boys in the street, when they invited you to play ball with them. That and the fact you seemed to be having so much fun doing it … You see, madame, Mexico will love you. Once she’s certain you will love her back.”
“You saw that?” she said. “Then tell me, Governor, did you know my name before I told it to you? Because it seemed to me you did, the way you paid little attention when I told it to you. Yet you remembered it later.”
“How very observant of you,” he said. “Yes, of course. The hotel owner is a friend of mine. I phoned over as soon as I saw that … He was kind enough to share it with me. And by the way, he will be at dinner tonight as well. It will give the two of you a chance to get to know one another.”
Now why, Martina wondered, would she want to get to know the owner of the hotel where she stayed? She wasn’t expecting to be there much longer. “Of course,” she said. But if by chance she did meet him, perhaps she would request her room be switched to another side of the hotel, away from his prying eyes. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Carlos said, smiling broadly. “Until tonight, then …” He bowed again and turned away for a second time.
She watched him as he walked away, straight and tall. She guessed his age in the mid-forty range. And, what of a wife? He never mentioned one. Turning away herself, then, she had difficulty believing what had just happened. What was it about her that caused such things to happen …? Just because of a few minutes of soccer with some totally adorable little boys? With whom she had a date again tomorrow morning, she reminded herself.
Martina spent the remainder of the morning at the market, going from vendor to vendor, rack to rack, looking for dresses, and came away from with only two. The ordeal of earlier, still so fresh on her mind, wouldn’t seem to allow her to focus on the original plan behind being here in the first place. The dresses all seemed so cheap now, since being in the company of the governor, and all the formal elegance he displayed. Even though that was the original purpose — buy dresses that would make her blend in with the masses. Make her disappear in this strange land she had chosen to be invisible in. Contrary to all that, she had now made herself a bigger spectacle than ever. God! Just how stupid was that? She couldn’t have done a worse thing, unless perhaps she stood naked in the square. There for the local media to snap pictures of and print in their newspapers. That, complete with her real name, which everyone seemed to know now. Even the governor of the state.
Martina chose to have lunch at the same little patio restaurant as she’d had dinner at the previous evening, with Calvin Johansson. After that, she hurriedly returned to the room. Her body needed plenty of attention, and she was anxious to get on with it.
Then, shortly after three in the afternoon, a knock came at the door. It was Calvin. She let him in, even though she was in her robe and in the process of polishing her toenails.
“Okay,” he said, coming through the door. “The good news is, they are hiring nurses …”
“Wow! That is good news, Calvin,” Martina said. “When can I interview?”
“Well, wait till I tell you what else I found out … There’s a position open to instruct …”
“Instruct!” She glared at him suspiciously. “Gee, I don’t know, Calvin … Do you think I could do it?”
“Why not? It pays so much more, and you won’t have all those hours like the nurses do at the hospital. Eighty hours a week, I’m told,” he said, studying her on the floor doing a contortion act while polishing her toenails. “You going somewhere?”
“I have a dinner engagement at … guess where?” She laughed. “The Governor’s Palace!” She screeched with joy.
