Cataveiro by E J Swift

Author:E J Swift [Swift, E J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780091953072
Publisher: Ebury Publishing
Published: 2014-02-20T05:00:00+00:00

20 ¦

THE SHACK IS empty. Inés’s chair sits outside on the patch of earth – the veranda – unoccupied; the chair creaks gently, the wood hot to touch. The door to the shack is closed, and when Ramona opens it, everything is neatly in its place, the floor swept, no dust on the surfaces. The plain brown curtains hang neatly in the windows and bright light filters through the cracks in the storm shutters. In the back room she finds the bed made with the sheets tucked tight around the mattress. There is no evidence of violence. There is no evidence of raiders or strange burning fires, but from the moment she enters the shack, Ramona has a feeling of portentous dread.

She wants to believe this is one of her mother’s wanderings. That it is only a matter of waiting until Inés returns, be that days or months. She wants to believe it. She comes out to the veranda and sits in the rocking chair. The day’s heat pulses down on her bare head and the mountain shimmers. Still she has the feeling, the feeling that something happened here, something very bad. But she tells herself:

She went away. It’s the fugue. She does this.

She notices weeds are coming up through the cracks in the pebbles. This is no good for her mother to come home to. She pulls a few of them out and tosses them aside. It makes no visible difference. She begins the task in earnest, yanking out the weeds, eradicating every illicit stem until the veranda is littered with the thin dusty earth shaken from the roots. It is all over her arms and face. Her vision is blurred with tears. When she sits back on her heels she is crying freely, unable to stop.

Someone is coming up the mountain. She recognizes the slow, laboured walk. It is Carla, Félix’s mother. She wipes a hand across her eyes.

It’s the fugue that’s taken her. Nothing more. Carla will tell you.

The older woman calls out as she approaches.

‘Ramona, is that you? I saw the plane. It’s not like you, to land so high.’

‘What happened? Did she die? Or did she go away to die? That would be like her. Not to give anyone a chance to say goodbye. Take herself to some secret place we’ll never find. That’s what happened, isn’t it? She went away. She must have gone away …’

Against her white shirt, Carla’s face is darkened and creased by exposure to the sun. An anxious face. A frightened face. The sight of it fills Ramona with terror. Carla raises one hand, as if in supplication.

‘I’m sorry, Ramona. It’s worse than that.’

‘No.’ She shakes her head. ‘No, it can’t be worse, what can be worse? It’s the fugue, isn’t it? It’s the fugue that’s got her. I mean it’s hardly a surprise, not with the jinn as well. How could she cope …’

Carla gets awkwardly to the ground, kneeling amid the remnants of the torn-up weeds. She takes Ramona’s hand, as if she is a child again.

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