Spellbound - Stories of Women's Magic Over Men by Willans Joel

Author:Willans, Joel [Willans, Joel]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Short Stories
Publisher: Route
Published: 2012-10-31T04:00:00+00:00

Estrella and the Gringo

Estrella was shelling peas in the courtyard when Aunty shouted at her to come and say hello. Merengue blasted from Radio Panamericana, so she pretended not to hear, sure that it would be the padre or one of Aunty’s stupid friends. But when she looked up she saw it was a young gringo. She was so surprised she knocked the bowl over, spilling peas across the concrete.

‘Sorry, I don’t normally have that effect on people,’ he said in Spanish, looking at her the same way Alejandro had the day they first meet.

He said his name was Doug. Up closer, she could see he was older than she first thought. Twenty-five at least. Perhaps more. He had messy maize-coloured hair, and a nose that took up too much room. His mouth was pretty though, like a girl’s, and his eyes were river green. A gold stud glinted in his eyebrow. He touched it when he saw her staring.

‘I got it in Rio. It seemed like a good idea at the time.’

‘I think it suits you,’ Aunty said, putting a painted fingernail to her lip.

It was then Estrella realised that Aunty had curled her hair and put on the yellow blouse she normally kept for the padre’s visits. Perfume too. Aunty had known the gringo was coming, yet hadn’t said a word.

‘I’ve never seen a man wear gold like that. Is it a gringo thing?’

Aunty patted her on the head as if she were a dog. ‘Oh, don’t mind this one, Señor. Estrella may be nineteen, but she still has plenty to learn about manners.’ She grabbed Doug’s elbow. ‘Now, your room is ready. I’ve made it up especially for you.’

‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘You’re very kind.’

Estrella watched Aunty flutter her eyelashes, as if Doug had told her she was most beautiful woman in the world. He didn’t notice. He was too busy looking around the courtyard. ‘Your flowers are amazing.’

‘They’re my babies. I treat them well and they keep me happy with their colour.’

Estrella rolled her eyes. It was true, the yellow angel’s trumpets with a fragrance that gave you strange dreams, the cantutas, and the purple orchids stuffed in old paint pots, were beautiful. But if they were Aunty’s babies, why in the Virgin’s name was it her who watered them every morning and every night?

‘Give me a little while and I can show you around our town,’ Aunty said, pushing her bosom out.

‘That’s okay. Once I’ve dumped my gear, I can check it out myself.’

‘I need to buy some bread,’ Estrella said. ‘I’ll come with you.’

Aunty’s mouth puckered up like a dried plum, but she didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. Estrella knew what she was thinking.

While Aunty showed Doug his room, Estrella counted on her fingers how many gringos she’d seen in her life. She could remember seven. Three missionaries. Two doctors. One NGO man and a tourist who came through town once on a motorbike. She wondered why this one had come.

When Doug returned, he’d changed into army shorts and a T-shirt that said ‘Born to Surf’.

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