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Authors: Mingmei Yip

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BOOK: The Witch's Market
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“Luis, I like you very much. But let's just be friends and not complicate matters,” I replied gently.
“How can true love complicate matters? It's pure and simple.”
I had no particular reason not to return Luis's love. But we would have no future. As recounted in the 3,000-year-old
Book of Changes,
“Everything changes.” Especially love, even though the ancient sages did not think to mention it. I couldn't possibly bring him to live in the U.S. He spoke only Spanish and couldn't earn a living making furniture.
I put my arm around his shoulder again, trying to comfort him. He pulled me against him and I surprised myself by not putting up any resistance. I felt as if I were a newborn chick in a child's hand, although Luis's own hand was large and big-boned. His heart was that of a child, but in a big, muscular body. I closed my eyes, letting all my inhibitions slip away.
He lowered his head to kiss me. His thick lips were warm and soft, but his kiss tentative. Maybe it was his first kiss.
“Eileen, stay with me tonight.”
“Alfredo expects me back. You shouldn't antagonize him right now. Besides, Grandpa is right here in the house.”
“We'll go to Past Life Lake. So you can see our future underwater. We'll be a happy family.”
I sighed. “Luis, slow down, all right? I'm older than you. Much older.”
He looked like a child told not to swing too high, lest he fall.
“Let's just stay friends, all right?” I said.
He remained silent for a while, then asked, “What would it be like to be rich?”
“I don't know. I've never been rich.”
But that wasn't completely true, for Ivan was rich. But I was not going to get into that with Luis.
“When we first met, you told me the story of
The Butterfly's Lovers,
remember?” said Luis.
So he was back to the subject of love. I'd have preferred to stay on the subject of being rich.
“You are the one who told me a story that shows love conquers all,” he said.
“Luis, that's just a legend. Real life is not that simple.” Of course, life had been simple for him. No doubt this was part of the problem.
“Eileen, please answer me honestly. Is there any chance we can be together?”
“I'm afraid not.”
And that ended our conversation.
As I was about to leave, I noticed Juan was nowhere to be seen. But the word he'd scraped on the ground surprised me.
Father.
What did that mean? What did he actually know? Did he want Alfredo to be his father?
But if that was the case, he'd be greatly disappointed.
 
When I arrived back at the castle, Alfredo was waiting for me. He told me he was eager to see Luis again and hoped I would encourage the young man to visit very soon. I told him that he was still in a state of shock and it would be better not to push.
“But he has a rich life waiting for him here. Why would he want to stay in that no-place village?”
It would be of no use to explain. Alfredo, like Ivan, could not understand why someone would want other things in life than money.
I told Alfredo I had a headache, went to my room, and locked the door. I needed to be left alone to try to think clearly. Bittersweet memories of Luis's kiss kept floating up in my mind. Turning him down had made my life simpler, but I did have second thoughts.
I couldn't yet tell if I loved him, but after Ivan and his ilk, Luis's naïveté and kindness were extremely appealing. So was his physical beauty—beauty derived from honest work, rather than an expensive gym membership and a personal trainer. But being attracted to him did not undo the fact that there could be no future for us as a couple.
That night Laolao came to me in my dream, and said, “It's good to follow your heart—but be careful.”
30
Farewell, My Beloved Village
W
hen the sun shining through the window woke me up, my chest was tight and my throat dry. I had a premonition that a disaster was about to happen, but what, I had no idea. I thought if I did intense meditation I could open my third eye and “see” what was coming, but I was afraid.
Laolao had always advised me to follow my heart, but also to be careful. Should I follow my heart and give in to Luis's love? Or should I be careful and marry Alfredo—or even Ivan—for their money?
I kept driving myself crazy with second-guessing. Had I made a mistake connecting Alfredo with Luis? They lived in such different worlds, I doubted true affection could develop between them. But after I learned that they were father and son, how could I just let the matter go?
I thought it best to leave Luis alone for a while, but after a week, I gave in to Alfredo's urging and brought him back to the village. There was no answer when I knocked at Luis and Grandpa's house, which was strange since they rarely went anywhere. We sat by the table in the courtyard and waited until three hours had passed. Fearing something might be wrong, I suggested we go to the church and ask Father Fernando for their whereabouts.
Only Juan was at the church, dusting the altar. Once he heard our footsteps, he turned and hurried toward me, his bad leg thumping heavily on the floor.
I gave him a peck on his cheek. “Juan, you're okay?”
He smiled, nodding enthusiastically.
“Juan, remember this is Señor Alfredo Alfrenso, the father of—”
Before I could finish my sentence, to my utter shock, Juan threw himself at Alfredo. Looking completely disgusted, Alfredo roughly pushed the young man away.
“Please tell him to go away!” Alfredo said to me.
I signaled Juan to leave and he did, looking completely crushed. I hated to do it, but I also didn't want Alfredo to hurt the young man any further. Juan must have been hoping that Alfredo was his father. Of course, that was why he kept writing the word
father
on the sand after I took Alfredo here. But I knew Alfredo only cared for those who were attractive—or rich. I told Alfredo to wait and hurried around to the back of the church.
Juan was sitting precariously on a broken chair, sulking. “Juan, I'm sorry. I know you want Alfredo to be your father, but he's not.”
He just stared at me with his sad eyes.
“We're looking for Luis and Grandpa. Do you know when they'll be back?”
With his stick, he wrote on the sand, “Gone.”
“What do you mean gone, like gone shopping or for a walk?”
He made some gesture and sound that I failed to understand.
“When will they come back? We can wait.”
He waved his hands frantically.
Did he mean they were gone for good? It seemed unlikely, but I needed to wait for Father Fernando to find out.
I went back to join Alfredo to wait for the priest. An hour later Father Fernando finally returned and I asked him about our friends.
The priest looked uneasy. “I'm sorry to tell you that they left. I'm worried that they will not come back.”
“What do you mean?” Though fearing the answer, I had to know. I realized I'd forgotten to introduce Alfredo, but it almost seemed that the two knew each other, though there was no warmth between them.
“Please come to my office and talk,” said Father Fernando.
Alfredo and I followed him. Juan wanted to join us but was stopped by Father Fernando, who gestured him to sit in a pew and wait.
After Alfredo and I settled into the priest's small office, I explained to him how I'd found out that Luis was Alfredo's son.
Before Fernando could respond, Alfredo said eagerly, “Father, please tell us where Luis has gone so I can find him.”
Father Fernando held up his hand. “First, I must tell you the sad news. Grandpa passed away two days ago.”
“How can this be possible?” I cried.
“He was in his nineties and had a weak heart. I think he'd had an argument with Luis, then collapsed. I rushed over and gave him extreme unction, just as he was dying. Yesterday we buried him. He was a good man and a good Christian.”
“I'm so sorry to hear that. Do you know what they fought about? Luis is such a gentle man.”
Father Fernando didn't answer me, but instead turned to Alfredo. “Señor, please excuse me, but I need to speak to Eileen privately.” He cast me an uneasy glance.
I followed the priest out of the church and around to the churchyard. Leaves and earth whispered under our feet, as if telling a long-kept secret. Nearby I could see the fresh grave. Tears came into my eyes. At Father Fernando's suggestion I followed him in saying the Lord's Prayer. Afterward we walked through the small cemetery toward a cluster of trees.
“Eileen, I'm afraid that you may be setting off a personal catastrophe for Señor Alfrenso and Luis,” the priest said in a worried tone. “You see, it is not Luis who is señor's son, but Juan.”
It was another shock to my already overtaxed mind. I'd wondered about the effect of telling the two that they were father and son. But my concern was about disrupting their lives, not the worse possibility that I would be telling them a falsehood. And just when Luis had lost his grandpa, and me telling him that we would never have a relationship.
“You sound like you're sure.”
“I'm sorry, Eileen, it would be easier for everyone if you were right. But there is no question—Juan is Señor Alfrenso's son, not Luis.”
Father Fernando took something from his pocket. It was the red stone pendant on a silver chain.
“That's Luis's!”
The priest shook his head, then gazed into the distance. “Many years ago our village was prosperous and there were many young people. But even then, some of the women didn't wait to take their vows in church and tried to hide their condition. Babies were sometimes abandoned at our church's doorstep. Luis and Juan came to us that way. Luis was a vigorous baby, so Father Ricardo was surprised that his parents left him. As for Juan, he suffered from a palsy and no one would want him. So Father Ricardo took him in and took good care of him. When Father Ricardo found him, around his neck was this silver chain and pendant.”
“Then how come Luis was wearing it?” I asked, my confusion growing.
“When Juan was little, he had frequent tantrums and would bite on his pendant. Father Ricardo feared that he might swallow it and choke on it.
“Since Luis was such a calm child, Father Ricardo decided to lend Luis the pendant, knowing he would keep it safe. If the mother ever showed, Ricardo would explain and return the pendant. But she never came.”
Of course the mother never came. Sabrina had no idea about her son's whereabouts and Cecily wouldn't want to reclaim the afflicted child. Nor, I thought, would Alfredo want a son unless he was perfect. I thought of Confucius' famous saying that parents should act like parents and children like children—in other words, care for each other. But the Chinese sage would not have said it unless it was often not observed, even in ancient times.
I decided not to tell Father Fernando who Juan's mother was, nor about the witch who had abandoned the child. The priest was a kindly man, but I feared even he might shun the boy if he knew about his connection to witchcraft.
Father Fernando sighed again, shaking his head. “The human heart is so fickle.”
It is said that the heart has its reasons—but unfortunately, too often the reasons are bad ones. The priest hadn't said anything about Luis so I asked, but with trepidation.
“Since Grandpa's death Luis has been heartbroken. He decided he was ready to leave. When he came to the church to ask my blessing and say good-bye he gave me the necklace to return to Juan. I saw him off to the ferry yesterday. You just missed him by a day.”
I suspected that it was not only Grandpa's death, but also my putting him off that led to Luis's abrupt departure. Despite what I thought had been good intentions, I had caused nothing but trouble for my friends.
I wondered if things were even worse than I knew. Worried about Luis, I asked the priest, “Did you tell him he's not Alfredo's son?”
He shook his head. “No, I didn't have the heart, although I should have. Someday I'll have to tell him. Meanwhile he's trying to start a new life.”
“What does Luis plan to do?”
“He didn't tell me. I'm not sure he knows himself.” He paused, then looked at me. “You may have already guessed that Grandpa was not Luis's real grandfather?”
“Of course. He was a foundling.”
“Yes, Grandpa and his wife took a liking to the boy and took him in. When the wife died, the old man and the boy continued to keep house together.”
“Luis didn't say where he was going?”
“No, but he left a letter for you. He likes you.”
“You can tell?”
He laughed. “Oh, yes, even as a celibate Catholic father. The day he met you, he talked about you nonstop, saying how smart and learned you are, a professor, and friendly too.”
I was about to ask, “What about pretty,” but suppressed myself.
The priest stood up. “All right, let's head back. You can read Luis's letter. As for Alfredo, I'm afraid you'll have to explain, since it was you who told him Luis is his son.”
When we were walking back to the church, he spoke again. “Eileen, I'll be leaving the village too—”
“When?”
“In a month maybe, or even less, as soon as social service comes to help the two old people into a nursing home.”
I felt bad that the elderly man and the widow would end up in a nursing home. And Juan's situation seemed even worse, as I was pretty sure Alfredo would not acknowledge him. It was Juan who seemed to get the worst of everything.
The priest must have known what I was thinking because he said, “I'm being reassigned to a larger church back in Spain. They won't need me here. And Juan will be a verger, so he'll be looked after, even after I am gone.”
 
As expected, when we went back to Alfredo and I told him about Juan, he became agitated. I could tell he was completely heartbroken. He'd unexpectedly gained a son, lost him, then gained one he did not want. Nor did he have a woman who cared about him. He was an aging, rich man with bad karma.
Back in the car, his self-control slipped. He pounded on the seat back and shouted over and over, “What did I do to deserve this!?”
“Alfredo, you found your son, even if he's not as you expected. Why don't you take Juan back? Maria can take care of him, or with all your money you can hire more help.”
“No, absolutely not, I won't have a son like this! Who knows if he really is mine? Sabrina was famous for sleeping around! Of course, she wanted my money. I want a DNA test on Luis. Juan could not be my son, absolutely not.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope, inside of which was a toothbrush.
“What's that?”
“My driver got it from Luis's house. It's for a DNA test.”
I felt very sorry for the man. I could not blame him for wanting a normal son, though this did not excuse his intolerance toward Juan. The DNA would not come out as he hoped, but maybe that was the only way he could move on.
When the car reached the castle, Alfredo invited me to go in, but I declined. I wanted to read my letter from Luis in private. I asked the driver to take me back to Luis's house.
Once inside the house, I sat on the long chair and tore open the letter. Even before I read a single word, tears coursed down my cheeks.
Please, let me have some good news from Luis,
I thought as I began to read.
My dearest Eileen,
I am sure you want to know about Grandpa. He died suddenly, but I knew it was coming. The day after you and Señor Alfrenso visited, Grandpa was not feeling well. He warned me that Señor Alfrenso is an evil man and couldn't be my father. I'd never seen Grandpa so upset. I fear it brought on his death.
There's no reason for me to stay on here without Grandpa. The only thing I know how to do is carpentry. You know I want to see the world, so I decided to be a sailor. Maybe the sea will help me forget.
Please take whatever you like from our house, even the furniture. I put Grandpa's sculptures for you in the first drawer of the closet next to the bookshelf. I'm not sure I will ever come back because everyone I know will be gone.
Maybe someday I'll have made enough money to go to San Francisco to visit you.
Whatever happens, my love for you will never change. I believe you love me but can't bring yourself to admit it.
I'll miss you, my dear Eileen.
Good-bye and good luck.
The furniture maker who'll never stop loving you,
Luis
I fought tears as I read the letter. I felt sad and guilty. Had I given in to Luis's romantic longing he would have stayed. But despite my third eye, I had no idea if either of us would have been better off that way.
Being a sailor didn't seem like much of a life to me. But neither did living out one's years in an empty village. At least Luis would earn a little money, have free meals, and maybe, as the expression has it, a girl in every port. The latter made me a little jealous, but also a little less guilty.
If I had accepted Luis's love, what sort of life would I have—especially when the passion wore off? If I had married him and remained on the island, I couldn't be a professor anymore. The only work I could imagine doing was as a shamaness—just as Laolao had always wished. I could sell herbs, tell fortunes, and conduct underworld tours. But I doubted there was much need on the island for an exotic, Chinese witch. The other witches certainly would not like competition and were expert at spreading malicious rumors and casting spells. I was sure they'd do everything they could to drive me out of business.
BOOK: The Witch's Market
5.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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