Amanda slept for most of the five-hour bus trip to the Anderson’s time-share on the Costa Blanca where they often spent their holidays. The older couple, who saw her fall, was on the bus as well. Twice they stopped by to see how she was doing. She was tempted to ask them if they had seen two men chasing her but that would have prompted questions from Leah.
“At last we are here,” shouted Leah. “I can’t wait to get in the water.”
The Mediterranean sparkled with the most intense turquoise Amanda had ever seen and looked inviting. Large, colourful umbrellas sprinkled the beach and little children ran along the shore splashing each other. As soon as they put their luggage in the rooms and had a cold drink, the two girls changed into swimsuits. They would have run to the beach but a slow limp was all Amanda could manage as she followed her taller friend. The salty water felt good on the damaged ankle and she soon forgot about it as the gentle waves flowed over her parched skin.
She also forgot about Dona, the big scary guy and the monk with the skull. Sun, sand and fun, that’s what she came here for. ‘No more getting involved in other people’s problems,’ she promised herself.
The following evening Leah’s parents took the girls to a Spanish restaurant featuring flamenco dancers. Amanda and Leah shared a dish of seafood paella loaded with mussels, crab, shrimp, red peppers and peas.
“How did they get the rice to be such a bright yellow?” asked Amanda.
“It is the saffron that makes it that colour,” explained Mrs. Anderson. “Saffron is a spice derived from the stigma of the saffron crocus flower. It is very expensive. Approximately 150,000 flowers are needed for one kilogram of dried saffron. In other words it would take about a handful of crocus flowers to make that paella dish you are eating right now. There is an interesting legend about the Greek messenger of the gods, Hermes, who accidentally gave his friend Crocos a mortal wound. The blood that flowed sprinkled on the ground, and wherever the blood dropped, a crocus plant grew in its place. This, according to Greek mythology, is where saffron came from.”
“Oh Mom, we aren’t interested in your Greek mythology stories. It just tastes good and looks pretty.” Leah rolled her eyes.
“I liked the story,” argued Amanda. “I love that everything in Europe has a story connected to it. It’s like living in a fairy tale.”
“Seriously, you are both too crazy,” Leah went back to eating her paella.
Amanda agreed it was very tasty and wanted to take a recipe home for her and her mother to try. She helped out in the kitchen at home and often prepared meals when her mom worked late or was out of town on business.
After a delicious dessert called flan – a sweet custard-like dish, the lights dimmed. A young woman appeared on stage wearing a dazzling red dress with matching red shoes and a black lacy shawl tied around her hips. The music started and she danced with such grace and ease, it was as if the wind carried her across the stage.
Amanda sat mesmerized. ‘Wow – to be able to dance like that!’ Her ankle hurt just thinking about it.
Three younger girls, about 10 years old, joined the woman in red. They wore shiny, tight white tuxedo pants, red shirts with puffy sleeves and white vests. The music started, they stomped their feet and looked left; all at the same time. They stomped their feet again and looked right – right at their table. Amanda gave a start. The girl in the middle looked remarkably like Dona.
The dances were incredible, every movement precise and fluid. As the evening wore on, Amanda convinced herself that it was Dona dancing on the stage. The younger girl wore make up with her hair pulled back from her face in a ponytail, but those large, intense eyes belonged to Dona. Amanda hoped she would look her way again and wondered if she had been recognized.
When the performance was over, the dancers went backstage. Amanda excused herself to look for the bathroom. On her way, she noticed the backstage consisted of a flimsy curtain separating the back of the room. Tempted to see if she could find Dona back there, she reminded herself that it would be best to leave it alone. ‘What if it wasn’t Dona, but someone who looked an awful lot like her?’
A dancer came out from behind the curtain leaving an opening. Amanda caught a glimpse of the girl she thought was Dona wearing a tracksuit and putting her dance costume into a duffle bag. As she lifted the bag onto her shoulder, her eyes met Amanda’s. She smiled slightly and shook her head. Obviously, she didn’t want to be recognized. Amanda held the curtain open a little, smiled and said, “That was a great performance, I really enjoyed it!” Dona smiled, “Gracias.” Amanda let the curtain drop and continued to look for the bathroom. She was so confused. ‘Why did this girl keep popping up wherever she was? Could it just be a coincidence?’
When she returned to the table, Leah’s mom asked, “Did you enjoy the performance?”
“I loved it! I wish I could dance like that. I especially liked the girl in the middle.”
“Yes, she is good. She must be new; I don’t recall seeing her here before. Those girls practice a long time before they make it to the stage. They have, most likely, been practicing since they were little girls. Tomorrow night we will go to a fiesta. You will enjoy that also.” Amanda was being treated very well by Leah and her parents.
“Thank you so much for bringing me here.”
That night Amanda’s ankle throbbed and she didn’t sleep well. When she did sleep, she dreamt she was on stage wearing a fabulous red outfit dancing with Dona, stomping, twirling, snapping her fingers and feeling carefree and happy. But was Dona happy?
Something about that little girl bothered Amanda.