Fables & Other Lies by Claire Contreras

Author:Claire Contreras [Contreras, Claire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Wicked Pen
Published: 2020-12-19T16:00:00+00:00

It was dark out. I rushed behind Esteban.

“I can go home,” I said.

“No. Just wait for me outside. I’ll be quick.”

I sighed heavily. “You said that last time and you took an hour.”

“Well, P. You can’t rush a woman’s pleasure.” He smiled over at me. I cringed.

“That’s disgusting.”

“You’ll understand it one day.” He wrapped an arm over my shoulder. “I’ll show you.”

“Show me what?” I pulled away from him.

“That it can be good.”

“That’s even more disgusting.” I pulled a face. “You’re my cousin.”

“So is half this island. You think it’s going to stop them?” He walked forward. “When your breasts start to grow more.” He brought a hand up and grazed my breast before I could jump back.

“Stop. I’ll tell on you if you keep talking like this.”

“I’m just joking.” He laughed. “Relax. You think I’d do anything to you?” I kept my distance. He noticed and glared. “Just go home. You’re acting like a baby today.”

I turned around and did as I was told, not because I followed orders, but because I was scared. Scared of him, of what he’d do. It was dumb. I knew Esteban. He was more of a brother than a cousin to me. He wouldn’t hurt me. Besides, my father would kill him if he did. He knew that. As I walked home, arms crossed, eyes on the unpaved road ahead, I heard something snap in the forest beside me. I gasped and stopped walking, looking over into the darkness. I couldn’t see anything at all, but Esteban’s words rang clear in my head. Would a man hurt me? Would they dare? I held myself tighter, willing myself to move, but for some reason I couldn’t. I was near the iron gates, near the Devil’s Chair, which I’d sworn I’d never sit on. The fog grew heavy around me and I began to shiver, still looking out into the forest. Another twig, and another, snapped, but still, there was nothing there. Then I saw two eyes, two golden eyes staring right at me. That was when I ran as fast as I could.

When I reached my house, I slammed the door shut behind me. Wela rushed over.

“I saw something. Yellow eyes. In the forest,” I said, out of breath.

She gasped, doing the sign of the cross. “La Ciguapa.”

“No.” I frowned. “I don’t think so. It didn’t look like a witch. It was just eyes.”

“A woman’s eyes?”

“I don’t know. How can eyes belong to either man or woman?”

“Did she have backward feet?” The question came from my father who’d walked into the room smoking a cigarette while I was speaking to my grandmother.

I frowned, looking up at him. My father didn’t believe in childish tales, and as far as I was concerned, La Ciguapa was a childish tale. A folktale people told to keep their children or straying husbands home at night.

“I don’t think it was a woman at all,” I said finally.

“I’ll make you a tea,” Wela said, rushing into the kitchen.

I followed her and sipped on the tea my grandmother made me, my mind spinning.

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