Chapter Eighteen
I stared at Esmeralda. “First of all, I came here to try to get my brother freed as a hostage. What is going on with Appolonia? Who is Diablo ?”
“You don't know of Diablo?”
I remembered the words of the DEA agent, Richard Braggs. “No, but I just heard his name mentioned before I left the States. I heard he is a big fish.”
Esmeralda blew air from one nostril in a gush of disgust. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “He's a really big drug lord down here. He got out of prison last year and it's like he didn't miss a beat after being gone almost fifteen years. He ran his organization from the prison, and now he's picked back up from where he left off.”
“Why is he holding Appolonia? Does he want money?”
“I don't think so.”
What happened to the money she had?
I wondered. “First, can you tell me what you know about Appolonia?” I decided to try to get all the information I could.
“She was a sweet girl.”
“When was the last time she came home?”
“She hasn't been home in fourteen years.”
“Why?”
“I can't talk about it.”
“Look, I've got to know what I'm up against. I'm putting my life on the line to help her and my brother. Otherwise, I will get on the plane and go on back to America.” I was adamant.
Esmeralda hesitated before speaking. She cleared her throats several times, as if speaking out would put her granddaughter's life in jeopardy. “Okay, as for Orchid, she's not Appolonia's sister. That's her daughter. She had her when she was young. I'm Orchid's great-grandmother. When she was thirteen, Appolonia had gotten involved with Diablo just when he was starting out. At that time, he was growing his cartel. He became a big drug lord and the police wanted him bad. He was living high. Big mansion. Swimming pool. Flaunting it before the poor.”
“What happened?”
“When Appolonia became pregnant with Orchid, she was arrested with Diablo. To keep from going to prison while pregnant and giving birth in prison, she turned state's evidence on Diablo. My daughter, Axa, and I kept the baby when she delivered, and Appolonia went to stateside and was put in the witness protection program. Her real name is Samaria.”
“So what made her come home now?”
“Her mother is dying and she came home to see her on her death bed. She also wanted to see her daughter, whom she left with me when she was a week old. We acted as if Orchid was Samaria's sister, and my grandchild to keep Diablo from coming after her. I helped my daughter Axa raise Orchid. Anyhow, Diablo went to prison for fifteen years, got out last year, and was determined to get revenge on my granddaughter. When he found out she was with Mayhem, he set up the deal so he could entrap her. He changed his name and now goes by Escobar.”
No wonder I couldn't find a long record of Appolonia in the States. She'd been given a new identity. “Didn't she know it was dangerous to come here?”
“She wanted to see her mother and her child,” Esmeralda said simply. I guessed because I didn't have a close relationship with my birth mother and didn't have any children, this was kind of unfathomable for me.
“Well, she has money that belongs to the Feds, supposedly, and some Mexican cartel is holding my brother to kill him if they don't get that moneyâsoon.”
“So her David has been kidnapped too?”
“Yes. Are you sure they haven't asked for money for Appolonia?”
“No. I believe this is a case of âif I can't have her, you can't have her either.' Although Diablo was hell bent on revenge, he hasn't harmed herâso far. She's still a beautiful woman. She's already worked her charms on him because he's given her permission to go to the Carnival this weekend.”
“How do you know?”
“She sent a message by one of Diablo's men who befriended her. She will be in the Samba Parade. She is still as beautiful as Miss Universe. She is also to be at the ball.”
I guessed she was trying to help her man, Mayhem, get back up on his feet too. She apparently stuck by Mayhem when he did some time the year before.
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We went to what I assumed was a hospice and visited Axa, Esmeralda's dying daughter. There appeared to be three other patients in the house. We were met by an Amerindian, who wore a long single plait down her back. The house had a hushed tone to it.
The woman didn't appear to speak Portuguese or English. “This is Idina,” Esmeralda introduced her. “She is from the rainforest. She was brought here with some nuns when she was a young girl, but she has become like the village healer. She knows all the plants and herbs. The secrets of the jungle.”
“What is wrong with Axa?”
Her mother sighed. She put her hands together as if she was praying, looked up to the ceiling, and shook her head hopelessly. “Ovarian cancer.”
“Has she seen a doctor?”
“Yes. She has had the chemo and radiation at the big American hospital. It only weakened her more. The doctors sent her home to die. Idina's been caring for her for the past couple of months. No one expected my child to make it this long. I believe she's waiting for Samaria before she lets go.”
“Has AppoloniaâI mean Samaria been to see her yet?”
“We were trying to get Samaria home so she could say her good-byes, and then she was abducted. She wasn't at the airport when we arrived; we didn't know where she was until she sent the note. We got information from David that he was sending you down to help free her. They say you're a police.”
“No, I'm not a policewoman anymore. I'm a PIâa private investigator.”
“They say if anybody could help, it's you.”
We went inside a small room with only a dresser, a bed, and a pitcher of water. The shades were pulled and the room was dark. Strangely, there was a light that emanated around the patient's face. “Axa, sweetheart, this is Zipporah Saldano. She's from stateside. She is going to help us get our little Samaria back.”
Axa's eyes were sunken in. Dark quarter moons shadowed beneath each eye like a raccoon and her lips were chapped, parched looking. Her nose looked pinched. Her face contorted in pain. Her voice was so low, I could hardly hear her. “Does she know?” she mouthed.
Esmeralda leaned in. “She knows. Don't worry. She's on our side. She's David's sister.”
“What does she want to know if I know?” Shoot. There were so many secrets I didn't know which one Axa was talking about. First, was she talking about knowing that Appolonia's child was Orchid, or was she talking about the witness protection program?
“Everything. I've told you everything now.”
Later, I learned that Mayhem had helped Appolonia send money from an unnamed anonymous source throughout the years so they couldn't trace it back to Samaria.
Now I wondered if Mayhem knew about Appolonia's past.
Chapter Nineteen
The first night I slept in Orchid's room on her narrow bed with the mahogany headboard, Esmeralda gave me a plump round orange. “Put this under your pillow,” she instructed.
I looked at her strangely. “Why?”
“Because this is what the Santera told me you must do to cleanse yourself before going into battle.”
I was too tired to argue, so I did as I was told, then I conked out and fell asleep. I had no idea what she was talking about.
The next morning, Esmeralda shook me awake. I was met by the beautiful sound of the two parakeets whistling, twittering, and singing. Their songs decorated the air.
“May I have the orange back?” Esmeralda asked.
“What orange?” I asked groggily. I had to reorient myself to my surroundings. Then I remembered I was in Rio, and pulled the orange from under my pillow.
I climbed out of bed, then took a quick bath. Esmeralda told me to hurry and dress and to bring one of my outfits I could afford to lose. I picked out a pair of torn jeans (I'd bought them that way) and a faded T-shirt.
It was still dark as we drove toward the mountain that you could see from all over the city during the daytime. A full moon helped light the way. We finally stopped in front of a whitewashed house that looked like a small cathedral. Amid the rest of the hovels, the place looked like the Taj Mahal. We went inside a darkened room with candles lit all over the room. A strong smell of sage wafted throughout the room.
“Z, this is the Santera. She is so powerful, we don't even call her by name.”
The woman, whose skin was ageless and who could have been any age from forty to seventy, was dressed like a gypsy and had a large mole in the middle of her head. This was called the third eye, Esmeralda later explained to me.
I'd heard of the religion Santeria before, but I didn't realize people still practiced it. The Santera spoke in Portuguese, but I understood some of her words because of the similarity to Spanish. Even so, Esmeralda translated for me to be sure I understood what this witch doctor was saying.
“I'm glad to see you. I've got to cleanse your aura. I see a dark cloud surrounding you. You had something bad happen to you when you were a child. Someone you loved died.”
I cringed and didn't say anything.
“His name was Butty, but you still have a close relationship. He says to tell you, you're not to blame for his death. That you've always felt guilty, but you're not at fault. It was just his destiny. He wants you to live and to carry on his legacy. He wants you to have children so his line will go on.”
Now that's when I became afraid. What kind of voodoo was this? How did she know about my father?
“Do you have the orange you were supposed to sleep with under your pillow last night?”
I pulled out the orange and tried to hand it to the Santera. She didn't touch it.
“Put it on the floor and step on it.”
Confused, I didn't know what to think, but I complied. I smashed the orange with my foot; then the Santera picked it up and opened the mashed fruit.
She showed it to me and turned to Esmeralda. I gasped out loud, hand over my heart. “Oh, my God! What is that?”
A face the size of a beetle leered back out at me. It was the visage of an evil-looking man who looked like what I imagined the devil looked like, inside the orange pulp.
How did that get in there?
I wondered. I knew this orange had not been cracked. I shook my head in incredulity.
“That's Diablo!” Esmeralda hissed, her hand over her mouth.
I felt the blood draining from my face. I grimaced in fear of the unknown. I knew there were things that couldn't be explained scientifically, but I'd just witnessed some things I'd never learned in the Western world.
The Santera's voice continued in a hypnotic chant. “Well, this is something I can break. This is a curse Diablo put on Appolonia and indirectly on you, so this is from man. This is not a curse from God. I can break a curse from man.”
“I don't understand.”
Esmeralda held up her hand, beckoning for me to be quiet.
The Santera's eyes rolled back into her head and she started chanting as if she were in a trance. A weird feeling permeated the room and my skin prickled. I stood, frozen to the spot. The eerie howl of a dog in the distance broke my freeze frame. I shook my head, trying to see if I could get out of this nightmare, but I looked down, touched my hands, and saw this was real life. I was not dreaming. I was still alive.
“I want you to bury these clothes in your backyard. Put dirt on them to break this curse. Bring back this box afterward and put as much money in it as you can. I will then bury the box in the graveyard.”
I didn't care what Esmeralda said, but I felt the money was for the Santera. I remembered my thought about how her house was like the Taj Mahal compared to all the hovels in the neighborhood around her.
“If anyone comes and talks to you who is a stranger, don't talk to them. They are straight from the devil. They may come to you as child begging but don't pay them any attention. You are to drink this potion I have mixed for you to help cleanse you. Someone wanted to kill you to have put this type of curse on you. They also have it on Samaria.”
“Go to the Carnival and you will find Samaria. Right now she is being held against her will. She will be part of the Samba Parade, and will be on a gold float with a horse like Helen of Troy, and then she will go to the Magic Ball at the Copacabana Palace. Wear this amulet for protection. You must help her escape. It won't be good if she doesn't get away.”
The Santera stood up and put this rank, rancid-smelling necklace over my head. It was shaped like the African ankh, like the ring I'd seen Erykah Badu wear. I understood the ankh stood for the symbol of life. For some it was eternal life. Next, I drank something from a goblet that tasted like mud, and hoped it didn't kill me. Right away my stomach began to gripe.
“This will clean you out,” the Santera said. “Get home and get to the bathroom.”
On our way out, I asked Esmeralda, “Did you tell the Santera that Appolonia had contacted you with a note?”
“No, I didn't.”
A chill riveted down my spine.
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As soon as we left the Santera's house, what appeared to be a monsoon swooped down on us. One minute it was clear, and the next minute we were in a downpour. I wasn't used to this type of torrential rain and I dashed to the car, mud and water circling around my ankles. I clenched my fist, nerves on edge, as Esmeralda inched down the hills in such pouring rain, but she seemed used to it. The palm trees almost bent to the ground, the wind was so high. I didn't know if we were going to run into a flashflood or what. Now if I was still drinking, this would clearly be a time to need a drink.
“Any questions?” Esmeralda asked.
“Your yard is so small. Where will we get the dirt?”
“Don't worry. We'll get it. I'll return the box for you so the Santera can bury it at the graveyard so you can go to the Carnival tonight.”
“How much money should I put in the box?”
“How much can you afford?”
“I will put $1,000 in the box.”
Esmeralda nodded in approval. I knew this sounded crazy, but I felt I had nothing to lose.