“Oh dear. I’ll have to do something about comforting the boy’s family. But let’s do one thing at a time. This is the servant’s wing. I know we’re not supposed to coddle them, but I don’t like dirty people handling the food I eat or the linens I sleep on, so I made my husband install a bathroom with a new geyser from England.”
She led them into a small but clean bathroom and knelt to make sure of the flame under the patented hot water heater at the end of the cast-iron tub. She said, “There’s plenty of hot water. Why don’t you wait for me in the drawing room while I show Rosalita how Christians wash themselves?”
He put the girl down with a smile and as he turned to go the little Indian girl sank to her knees at Consuela’s feet, took the hem of her gown in both hands, and kissed it.
He left, feeling grateful and angry at the same time. Consuela was being kind to the little stray, but he’d noticed she hadn’t been at all embarrassed by being treated like a plaster saint. People down here either acted like whipped dogs or walked around like their shit didn’t stink. It was all or nothing. You were a Grandee or a Peon. Where the hell was the middle class? There didn’t seem to be one.
He went out to the drawing room and sat down to have a smoke. He noticed for the first time he was hungry and Consuela had said something about dinner being late.
Where the hell was everybody? Most of these big houses had more servants and poor relations hanging around than you could shake a stick at. He knew the old planter and his wife had no kids and they were pretty far from civilization. But their money-wise relations were probably staying away because something figured to happen. Something like a gunboat. The rival factions in this country had maybe worked out some civilized rules of warfare over the years, but with the whole outside world bidding for canal routes across the isthmus these days, the fight was getting serious.
He’d just finished his smoke when Consuela came in, looking upset. She said, “I left her with a bar of perfumed soap and some clothes to put on. She told me a horrible story. I’m glad you shot the nasty old pervert. My husband assured me he was harmless.”
He said, “I’m sure Don Marin thought he was. Where is he, by the way, and what’s this about your maid taking off on you?”
She said, “Let’s go in the kitchen and I’ll fry some eggs. Marin went down to the next plantation. A runner came back with orders from the revolutionary committee and they’re having some sort of a meeting. He should be back sometime tomorrow.”
As he followed her out of the room, she added, “Lupelita seems to have run off. Probably with one of the peones she’s been sneaking off with.”
He followed her into the kitchen and as she put a stick of wood in the coals of the American range he leaned against a counter and kept his voice casual as he asked, “Why do you put up with Lupelita if she’s been so much trouble to you?”
Consuela put a copper skillet on the range and started breaking eggs in a bowl as she said, “I don’t intend to, thanks to you. When and if she comes back, I intend to tell her she no longer has my patronage.”
He really had trouble keeping it light, this time, as he asked, very casually indeed, “Thanks to me, Consuela?”
“Oh, you must have seen how fresh she was. I would have fired her long ago, but my husband was afraid of Cyclops. He was her uncle.”
He realized he’d stopped breathing. So he took a breath and let it out with a suppressed sigh of relief before he said, “That explains it, then. She was frightened when your husband and I had to have it out with the bully of the place.”
Consuela shot him an arch look over her shoulder as she buttered the warm pan and asked, “Did you really think I was taken in by that nonsense about Marin backing you? Poor little Marin hasn’t nerve enough to stand up to a cockroach.”
He shrugged and said, “I called it like I saw it, ma’am.”
“I know, and it was very sweet of you. By now he really thinks he was the hero you made him out to be. You have a very healthy ego, Captain Gringo.”
“Well, what the hell, it was his woman we were fighting over and he’s the leader, here, so ...”
“Oh, my God, you can’t be that blind, Dick. The revolutionary committee is just using Marin and me.”
“How so? I can see your husband has the wherewithal to buy guns for his guerrillas and this hacienda is far enough from Granada to make a good base. Is that the picture?”
“Only a tiny part of it. Marin’s main strength is his weakness. Both sides know he’s harmless, and we both have relatives on the Liberal side who’d be annoyed if we were attacked for no reason.”
He shook his head wearily and said, “You sure have crazy wars down here. How do you keep from getting mixed-up, with the Liberals and Conservatives intermarried and shipping their produce on the same boats?”
She poured the eggs in the skillet and started to scramble them with a fork, saying, “We get mixed-up indeed. The feud has been going on so long everyone’s forgotten what the reasons for it were in the first place. Could you reach up and hand me down that string of onions?”
He took the red onion string down off the wall and handed it to her as he said, “You said the rebels have a good reason for using this place as a base. I’ll be damned if I can see it.”
She started cutting cubes of onion into the eggs as she explained, “It’s a ruse. The main stronghold of the rebels, or Conservative Party, is in Granada, across the lake. The fight, as always, will be for control of Managua, in the north.”
“And we’re way over here in the outfield. To do what? Catch flies?”
“I’m not familiar with your baseball tactics. But, if I follow you, you are correct in assuming the Conservatives want a distraction over on this side of the lake. They sent Cyclops to us to swagger around and snipe at government patrols. I’m sure they wanted him well away from Granada and points north when the serious fighting starts in the dry season. I’m generous enough to hope they didn’t think he’d kill anyone on our side when they saddled us with him. But, as you saw, he was unstable, even for a guerrilla.”
He nodded. The picture was starting to focus at last. He said, “Gaston and I have been used. If the rebels really wanted those guns they’d have wanted them delivered in Granada, where we were in the first damned place! I owe Gaston an apology. I thought he was crazy when we put in near Granada and started dodging cops. The committee plays very dirty chess, doesn’t it?”
She said, “Both sides have been playing the game a long time. Hand me those plates, will you?”
He did and watched as she forked heaps of egg and onion into the plates. He noticed she’d left a portion for the Indian kid and as she slid it back to stay warm without burning over the hotter part of the range, he decided not to swear at her after all.
She put the plates on a nearby table and took a pot from the range to pour coffee as she said, “Pull up a chair and let’s eat. I hope you’re right about Lupelita running away for good. I couldn’t keep another servant in the house with her here. You see, she was all right until Cyclops arrived. Then, when he turned out to be a relative, and probably a lover...”
“Forget the servant problem,” he cut in. “Let’s talk about this crazy setup over here. As I see it, the central committee wanted your harmless husband and this ragtag band to draw fire away from the real battleground across the lake. You seem to think so, too. Doesn’t that make you nervous, Consuela?”
She shook her head and said, “Of course not. You see, the government party knows poor Marin wouldn’t hurt a fly. That’s why the rebels sent Cyclops over to stir things up.”
“He did. We were blown out of the water by a government gunboat.”
“Pooh, that was for practice. Besides, we must have a dozen Liberal spies working for us, and when they find out Cyclops is dead ...”
“Don’t you want your side to win, Consuela?”
She lowered her fork and met his gaze with a wan smile before she asked, “What side are we talking about, Dick? I’m a woman. Had I not been forced to marry such an old man I might have been a mother one day. This endless civil war is no concern of women and children, save when they’re the victims of it. It’s the stupid blood sport of stupid husbands and fathers who should know better. Suppose, this time, the Conservatives win. What of it? They’ve won before. All that changes is who is in and who is out. In a year or so the Liberals will have licked their wounds, and next time they might win. Do you think it will make any difference?”
He smiled crookedly and said, “Welcome to the club. Great minds do run in the same channels after all. I thought you were just another Proud Spanish Beauty who likes noise.”
She lowered her eyes and murmured, “Maybe, when I know you better, I’ll tell you what I really want, Dick.”
He didn’t know what he was supposed to say. Before he had to say anything the little Indian girl came, looking even more childlike in a larger maid’s smock. She curtsied and said, “I used the rubber bag you showed me, Gracious Lady. I am clean all over, now.”
Consuela blushed and said, “Never mind all that. Go over to the range and help yourself to some eggs. Take some coffee, too, and go to the room I showed you, like a good girl.”
“Where am I to sleep, Gracious Lady?”
“In the bed, of course. I told you it was your room now.”
Rosalita stared adoringly at the older woman and stammered, “The whole room is mine? Even the looking glass on the wall?”
Consuela nodded and told Captain Gringo, “I’m putting her in Lupelita’s quarters for now. We may be able to make a scullery maid or something out of her, once she’s settled in.”
She saw he’d about finished too, and asked if he wanted more. He shook his head and said, “No, thanks. I’m stuffed. It’s a good thing I’m not calling on anyone, tonight. Those onions had a kick to them.”
Consuela rose, saying, “Yes, but they stick to one’s ribs and, who knows, you might meet a girl who’s been eating onions herself. Shall we finish our coffee in the drawing room?”
He got up himself, told Rosalita to take care of herself, and followed Consuela out. As they found themselves alone in the hallway he asked, “What happens if Lupelita comes back and finds that kid in her bed. She may act like all three bears if she’s the bitch everyone says she is.”
Consuela led him back to the drawing room and waved him to a seat beside her on the couch as she said, “I doubt if we’ll ever see Lupelita again. She knows I’ve had it in for her for some time, and with Cyclops not here to protect her … Well, we’ll soon learn which of the young men left with her.”
“She knows this is a rebel stronghold. What if they go over to the other side?”
“Heavens, it wouldn’t surprise me if she’d been a spy from the first. I used to catch her listening at keyholes and when I’d challenge her, she’d just smirk. She knew my husband was afraid to discipline her.”
He thought back to the time he’d been with Lupelita with her mistress on the other side of the door. She had been sort of brazen, now that he thought of it. When was he going to learn that just because a lady said she was on your side it didn’t always mean she was? He’d sort of liked her, too, God damn it! He didn’t think he’d ever mention the affair to Gaston. Gaston liked to screw spies, but he always seemed to know who he was sleeping with!
A clock chimed somewhere in the house and Consuela said, “My, it’s getting late. I’d better show you to your room.”
He started to say it was still pretty early for this neck of the woods, and then he saw the way she was looking at him in the candlelight and realized he’d just been about to say something stupid again.
He nodded and said, “I would like to stretch out. It’s been a long day.”
She rose and reached for a candlestick, saying, “I’ll bring along a bottle of Madeira, in case you want some, later.”
She took a bottle from the sideboard as they passed it and he followed her to his guest room, neither speaking as the crickets serenaded them out in the darkness of the deserted garden. She put down the candlestick and the wine and turned to face him, her face unreadable in the dim light. She said, “Well,” and waited. He stood looking down at her until she lowered her eyes and murmured, “Oh, dear, this is very awkward, isn’t it? My husband seldom leaves me here alone like this and I’m afraid I’m not very good at it.”
He took her in his arms and said, “You’re doing fine.” Then he kissed her.
She responded eagerly, digging her nails into his back through the shirt as he explored her mouth with his tongue. Then she shuddered and tried to draw away, saying, “I don’t think we ought to, Dick.”
He held her closer and murmured, “It’s too late to dip a toe in the water, kitten. We’re off the diving board already.”
Then he reached out with his free hand and snuffed the candle out. She laughed, nervously, and said, “I can see you’ve had experience as a houseguest, Dick.”
He growled, “Hey, don’t try to make me feel guilty, doll! I’ve never made the first pass at another man’s woman. If you really want out, just say so.”
She leaned her head against his chest and said, “You said we were off the diving board, remember? What do you do when another man’s woman makes the pass at you?”
He said, “Hell, I wouldn’t want her to think I was a sissy!”
Then he picked her up and carried her over to the bed. As he put her down she asked, “What about the door?” and he said, “Right.”
He went to the door, closed it, and softly turned the key. As he came back to the bed he heard the rustle of silk and by the time he’d shucked his own clothes and climbed in beside her, Consuela was stark naked in the darkness. He didn’t need the light to know what her body looked like as he mounted her with no fore-play. He’d been undressing her with his eyes all day, and from the way she welcomed him, wide-spread thighs and a shuddering moan, he knew she’d been undressing him, too.
There was a moment of awkwardness getting in. Despite her aristocratic features, Consuela had a heavy muff that betrayed more hormones than one might have expected. As he parted the moist matted hair with his shaft and rammed it home, she gasped, “Oh, my God, I didn’t know they came that big!”
And then she went out of her mind for a while as he pounded her the way he knew a woman stuck with an old man needed it. He knew he was right as she responded with hot bumps and grinds. His French friend, Gaston, had told him girls with fading lovers got all the licking and foreplay they needed. When a woman with an old husband went for a healthy looking young stud, she was out for old-fashioned fucking.
He didn’t hold back and he didn’t try for skill. He just let her have it all and when he came, he kept humping. She wasn’t far behind him and as she climaxed she screamed loud enough for the whole house to hear, had anybody been there worth considering. Then she went limp and sighed, “Oh, thank you! It’s been so long since I’ve felt like a real woman!”
He finished coming and stayed in her, chest heaving against her turgid breasts until he got his breath back. Then he said, “Listen, no man likes to hear about another man’s anatomy. It’s insulting to both men when a woman says she hasn’t been screwing her husband. Especially when she moves her tail like that.”
Consuela laughed, a low dirty laugh, and said, “I was no virgin when they made me marry him and, if you must know, he’s not bad for a man his age.”
“A man who couldn’t get it up for you would have to be dead. And I don’t want to hear I have a bigger prick.”
“Well, you do, but you’re right. He’s down the shoreline playing rebel leader, so let’s leave him there. Move back a bit, will you?”
He leaned his weight on his elbows and she drew her knees up. He saw what she wanted, so he hooked a knee at a time over his elbow joint as she opened wide and said, “Ah!”
He started moving, but he was aware the new position had shortened her passage and he knew it could hurt a woman if you went too deep. He could feel the firm ball of her cervix coming up to kiss the tip with each thrust and he tried to back out a bit. But she said, “No, shoot it right into my womb, my tiger!”
“Honey, I’m going to wreck you if we’re not careful!”
“I want to be wrecked and ruined! I want you to fuck me ‘til I bleed to death! I want you to make a million babies in me, and I want it now!”
He said, “Well, it’s your funeral,” and then he was in heaven and there was no point in idle chatter. She wouldn’t have heard him anyway. She was in her own private heaven and this time, as he came, she drove them both insane by running her cervix teasingly around his glans like a licking tongue. He went limp and gasped, “Jesus, I think you wrecked me, that time!”
Then he heard her crying and when he kissed her eyelids they were salty with tears. He rolled off her and held her gently, saying, “I’m sorry. I was afraid I’d hurt you.”
But she said, “You didn’t hurt me, it was wonderful! But, damn it, my husband will be home tomorrow night!”
He grimaced and said, “Hey, the cold gray dawn is hours away. We’ll work something out.”
“He’s going to want me, after being away overnight.”
“That sounds reasonable. Do we have to be so fucking clinical?”
She started fondling him as she kissed his chest and said, “I know it sounds horrid, darling, but, yes, we are going to have to be, if we want to do this again, once Marin comes home.”
He didn’t answer.
She said, “I thought I could get it out of my system with a wild naughty night with you. But if you’re to stay here until Gaston gets back,..”
“Yeah, it’s a dumb sticky situation, isn’t it? You know what the smart thing to do would be.”
“Make a night of it and pretend it never happened?”
“That’s the way it’s usually done.”
She didn’t answer for a time. Then she said, “All right, I’m a slut and I’m glad about it. You want to do it some more, don’t you?”
“Sure, just let me get my second wind.”
She squeezed playfully and said, “I can see you’re recovering nicely. But I’m talking about tomorrow night.”
“You said your husband had that dance reserved.”
“I know. But he’s not very demanding, and he’s a sound sleeper.”
“Hey, forget it! It’s not only risky, it’s sort of sloppy!”
She said, “I have a French douche. I promise I’ll come to you in edible condition. I’ll take a bath and put on a fresh gown and . ..”
“I heard what Rosalita said. You’re not a very private person, are you, honey?”
She laughed and said, “I let her use another nozzle. She told me all sorts of things had been up her poor little thing and she was itching inside. Do you think she really took a corn cob all the way? She’s so little.”
He felt his flesh twitch as he remembered the way Rosalita had looked, chained helpless and naked out at the hermit’s shack. What was wrong with him? Wasn’t there anybody he didn’t want?
Consuela said, “Oh, it’s getting hard again. Do you mind if I get on top, this time?”
He lay back and said, “Be my guest.” But as she crawled on top of him there was a distant rumble and she paused, a thigh on either side of his hips, to murmur, “Listen to that thunder! We’re going to have a real storm before morning.”
He said, “That’s not thunder. It’s gunfire. A lot of gunfire. How far off is this plantation your husband was visiting?”
“About twelve kilometers. Why do you ask?”
“We’d better get dressed. Twelve kilometers sounds about right.”
She settled down on his erection, saying, “Oooh, nice. They never shell the homesteads over here. They must be shooting at some poor peon’s boat again.”
He said, “Damn it, Consuela, that’s a real barrage down there!” But then his flesh betrayed him as she enveloped it in moist warm delight and when she started moving and said, “Just one more?” he grinned and answered, “Hell, we’ve got time. It would take a gunboat nearly an hour to get here from there.”
She laughed and got a heel on either side of his hips, squatting on the mattress as she bounced up and down. Then someone pounded on the door and a male voice called, “Captain Gringo! Are you in there?”
He said, “Yeah, I’m in there, and this is getting to be a habit! What’s up, Sancho?”
“We don’t know. They are shelling down the shoreline and everyone is frightened!”
He yelled, “I’ll be with you in a few minutes.” Then, as they heard Sancho leaving, he added, “I’ll be with you in a few seconds, too. But let’s finish dog-style. I’ve really got to find out what’s going on out there.”