Coffee (36 page)

Etty’s
arms fell limp as she returned her gaze to the large metal letters.
“My grandfather? Are you sure?”

“I
am sure. I knew him. I knew your father. I knew of you.”

Tears
welled up in Etty’s eyes, and spilled over onto her cheek.
She quickly dabbed them dry with the back of her sleeve, and tried
to gain composure. She reached up and touched the worn handle that
opened a hopper on the machine’s side. “You knew my
father?”

“I
did. He was a Dutch businessman. I’d known his company for
as long as I can remember, but I met your father about thirty years
ago. I had only recently become President of Clorice Coffee.”

“That
can’t be. My family was from Germany.”

“Not
true. Your family brought you to Germany, but you, young lady, were
born in Amsterdam.”

Etty
sat down on a dusty bench without wiping it first. She looked down
and rubbed her knees, trying not to cry. “How do you know
this? About me?”

“I
have so much to tell you, so much to ask. You are Dutch, a fellow
countryman. I will treat you as my own daughter. Let us go on to
more comfortable settings.”

Clorice
walked toward the small door. Etty stopped and looked back.
VON
ENES
towered over her in bold letters at the top of the machine
- her real name, her family’s name.

Once
in the car, she asked “What kind of machine is it?”

“It’s
an old style pulping machine, a device that removes the fruit of the
berry from the coffee seeds before they are hulled. That very
machine processed all the production of Clorice Coffee from this
region through two decades. We replaced it ten years ago, but I
would never discard it. There are days I think about throwing out
the new numeric controlled machines and putting your family’s
back in production.”

They
drove back to the main road and turned right toward the mansion.
“Take us to her bungalow,” Clorice instructed the
driver.

Etty
put aside her uneasiness and continued her questions. “Did
you meet my mother?”

“No,
I am afraid not. I only met your father once, right after he took
over the company. You see, your family ran into serious problems
with debtors when your grandfather died. He left your father with a
company accustomed to tight control and conservative management.
Your father’s style was more aggressive, maybe too much so.
He moved too fast.”

Etty
interrupted, “What was his name?”

“Johannes
Von Enes. Your family had a reputation for producing the best
harvesting equipment made. Your father wanted to move his company
into a wider selection of machines, to sell in more countries, and
vertically integrate with the purchase of plantation growers around
the world.”

“What
happened? Sounds like a reasonable plan.”

“True,
but the weight of his ambition exceeded the strength of their
capital. Misfortune struck, when his sales dropped soon after he
made a highly leveraged purchase of land and equipment. The bank
pulled the loan, and well, he filed for bankruptcy.”

“Why
do you know all this?”

“I
was part of a consortium of his customers who tried to help him out.
I traveled to Amsterdam and joined a temporary Board of Directors,
and we did what we could to salvage the company.”

“What
happened to my family?”

Clorice
looked down at the floor of the limo. “I’m afraid the
humiliation and debt problems were too much for him. He committed
suicide.”

Etty
gasped. “Suicide! With a wife and child?”

Clorice
pushed on, avoiding the issue. “Rumor was that the remaining
family migrated north to Essen, Germany. When I saw your name on
the Global analysis, a report more engaging than any done on our
company I might add, I could not help noticing the Von Enes name. I
researched you, and discovered a reference to adoption. Germany was
mentioned as a place of origin. It has to be the same family. You
would have been born the same month your father died.”

A
twinge of anger returned to Etty’s face. “All this
research! You and Global. Is nothing sacred to you people?”
Clorice appeared unprepared for a retort. “And you must have
been a little surprised to see that I am supposed to be dead.”

The
car pulled up to handsome quarters, a two story residence with an
intricately carved lattice-work railing on a wide deck circling the
entire building. Tall banana and mango trees on either side framed
the weathered wood and soft white clay siding, making a lovely
scene. Two dark skinned women in flowing white dresses approached
Clorice’s door to let him out. He curtly motioned them to go
around and attend to Etty first. “Atrocities have been
committed against you and your family, Miss Von Enes, and I am
deeply sorry. But I beg you to hear my proposal, designed to return
your good name to its proper standing.” He gestured toward
the window. “These will be your quarters. These women will
help you in any way you please. You should find clothes and other
provisions, but a simple request to either attendant is all you need
for anything else. Please meet me this evening at 5pm. That gives
you most of the day to rest. You may call for a car, or I recommend
you walk north up the beach. My home is not far, you’ll enjoy
our Brazilian shores.”

Etty
wanted to ask what he meant about the proposal - an all to familiar
concept after McKinsey’s, but the women tenderly urged her
away. Clorice waited until she had climbed the stairs, and opened
the thick wooden doors before driving on.

The
ladies spoke surprisingly good English, although thick with
Brazilian flair. In the center of the spectacular main room, an
atrium rose from a recess in the floor. Green flowering plants
spread to the ceiling in a fountain of color. Glass windows filled
the entire length of the ocean facing front wall. Tall glass
sliding doors had been pushed aside, allowing a warm salty breeze to
caress her face. The sun sparkling off turquoise blue waves below
sent brilliant spots of light spinning throughout the room. A
symphony of aroma bathed her nostrils - fragrant flowers, humid
thick air, and the smell of recently watered grass evaporating in
hot sun. A gentle lapping of waves, and pleasant songs of tropical
birds filled the air. “Oh my. I have never seen such a
room,” Etty sighed.

One
woman touched her shoulder, pleased to see her guest happy. Her
accent flowed like a melody. “Let us see you to bedroom now,
Madam, you will like it.”

Up
some stairs bordered with a lavish wrought iron railing, they came
upon the master bedroom. It too faced east toward the sea. A
balcony stretched along the full length of the room. Etty opened a
screen door and stepped out to lean on the railing. A little path
between the trees lead down to unblemished sand dunes at the edge of
the blazing beach. Etty wanted to run to it, and squeeze the sand
through her bare toes. A coconut palm bent in toward the house, so
close she could pull at the fronds, and touch the hard green husks
of the coconuts. Returning to her bedroom, she noticed a four
poster canopy bed, draped with mosquito netting tied neatly with
silk bows.

Etty
asked their names. They curtsied as they spoke, embarrassed to be
asked. “Anna,” said the older one. The younger one
giggled. “Catalina.”

Etty
curtsied back formally, “Etty. Please call me Etty.”

Anna
responded, “Yes, Madam ... oh, yes Ittie.” All three
giggled.

Anna
stepped up to a tall cedar armoire and opened two doors to the side.
Six small drawers filled the bottom third, while a rack of clothes
hung above. She pulled down a white dress, embroidered along the
neck and sleeves with bright thread in the shapes of animals and
children. She handed it to Etty, “These are better for you
here. We picked them ourselves. Will you see if they fit?”

“I
need to wash and rest,” Etty said pleasantly. The ladies
looked away, and quickly prepared to leave. Etty didn’t want
to hurt their feelings. “... But I’ll try one on for
size.” They stepped closer to her, smiling again. But they
just stood there. Etty realized they were waiting for her to
undress.

Although
at first reserved, she started unbuttoning her shirt. They
immediately took positions on either side, helping her remove each
article. Etty would have preferred more privacy, but she didn’t
deprive them of their task. She reached under and palmed the pager
pen taped under her arm and moved it to a pant pocket. After
pulling down her pants, she stood in bra and panties, and began
raising the dress to put it over her head.

“No
no! These are soiled, they must be washed!” Anna said pointing
to her undergarments. Catalina stepped behind and unhitched her
bra. Etty hesitated, but decided to continue and slipped off her
panties. Her modesty faded quickly to see the women perform this
duty in such a natural, practiced way. They held the dress high
above her head while Etty raised her arms, and lowered it over her
shoulders. Anna nodded approvingly. “So preeety.”

Catalina
took a brush from an antique dressing table, and held it with a
questioning smile toward Etty. Etty nodded. The lady stepped
behind her and brushed with tender strokes, never tugging. She used
her nimble fingers to untangle the many knots, and then brushed the
hair smooth.

“Thank
you so much,” Etty said, unsure exactly how to act with such
royal treatment.

“Look
here,” Anna said pointing back to the armoire. She fanned the
clothes, exposing many colorful blouses and dresses. She opened the
drawers and pulled out examples of shorts, pants, other shirts,
socks, and under clothes. She held up a bikini made from little
more than a string and small pads.

“Humm.
Now this will be interesting,” Etty said scanning the suit.

“Many
swim without clothes, Madam Ittie. This is your private beach.”

“A
swim would be nice, then a hot bath. Then a long nap. Can I go
right out there?”

“Oh
yes. But do not pass the recife. Many sharks and other dangers.”

“Recife?”

“The
stone reef, see?” Anna pointed out the window. Etty’s
heart jumped again to see the warm blue waters. She noticed a line
of white water about 50 feet out where the waves broke over some
kind of underwater wall. “Reefs of coral. Where our city’s
name was made. There are many.”

Etty
thanked them profusely, and then asked to be left alone while she
prepared for a swim and bath. Catalina and Anna bowed and headed
quickly for the door. They tried to gather all her discarded
clothes to wash them, but Etty shook her head. Anna obliged, and
folded them neatly on a shelf in the armoire. Etty yelled back as
they left, “I want to continue the tour later too! I can’t
wait to see the kitchen!”

Catalina
leaned back into the room “Madam Ittie? The keechen? You
will not see the keechen. We do all the cookeen.” She bowed
and left.

Etty
stared at the black iron door latch after it shut. “How can
this be happening?” A foreign country, exotic tropical
accommodations, servants for every trifle. Contrasting emotions left
her suspended in a detached state. She needed sleep, her mind
couldn’t center on a single thought. She rubbed her hands
together, and watched them like they weren’t her own. The
touch reminded her of the bacteria injections. “The pills!”

She
found the envelopes still in her shirt pocket. She took two of each,
not sure how long it had been.

She
decided to send a message to Bryce. She admired his foresight while
retrieving the pager pen from her jeans. She moved a white wicker
chair to a spot on the balcony providing the best view down to the
private beach. She sat back. Not a soul in any direction. She left
on the soft cotton dress, enjoying the feel of nakedness underneath.
Bryce’s scrap of paper still wrapped around the top of the
pen. She looked at the numbers, scribbled hastily, and remembered
the frantic moments in which they were written. How far she was
from that now. She wondered where he and Warren were, and hoped for
their safety. She hardly believed that only a week had passed since
she worked in her snow bound apartment, oblivious to her outrageous
future.

But
something about this place played with her deepest desires. She
caught herself fantasizing of never being discovered, living out a
long life in a paradise prison. Like never before, she felt closer
to her family. Her father knew of this area. He corresponded and
sold products here. She wanted to know more about him.

She
used a sharp fingernail to push the little buttons on the side of
the pen, first the ID number and then the emergency code. She held
the pen up toward the sky with her finger on the Send button. For a
moment she paused, wondering what chaos this would bring. It amazed
her that such a small device, making not a sound, from this
comfortable chair alongside a luxurious beach, could set in motion a
major operation on another side of the world.



Although
Etty could see waves breaking over the protective coral wall as she
tread water in the little cove, the thought of sharks and ‘other
dangers’ so close by still gave her the willies. She shrieked
when a small parrot-fish brushed up against her. The minuscule
bikini pushed an annoying string along the crevice of her buttocks.
The privacy was appreciated.

The
bath tub sat up on a ledge next to the window, so she could sit back
and watch the waving palms and diving pelicans while she soaked.
Anna and Catalina tried repeatedly to come in to help her wash and
dress, but Etty cordially refused.

The
cool sea followed by the hot bath sent Etty into a near trance. She
barely remembered toweling off before she climbed into the ultra
soft bed. The sheets smelled of the outdoors - probably from drying
on the line only hours before. She nestled her head into the center
of a yielding pillow, and fell soundly asleep.