The Witch's Market (27 page)

“You've done far more than you realize, Eileen. If you don't take the money, a thief will, or worse, the government, who are thieves themselves.”

This was my excuse to look for his money.

“I hope someone can have happiness from what I've done. I've harmed nearly everyone else I had anything to do with.”

I nodded. “Your women, your business rivals and partners . . .”

“Nathalia too.”

“You mean that evil witch? Because she stole your son with Sabrina?”

He sighed. “I told the police that Nathalia killed Isabelle. . . .”

“Then why didn't they arrest her?”

“They said they had no evidence. Anyway, nobody here will testify against a witch—they're all terrified of curses. And maybe they are right—look at my misfortunes. My life has been cursed.”

I was remembering that Nathalia lived underground and kept herself out of sight, except when she wanted to be seen. Likely this was not the only crime she was hiding from.

Alfredo went on hurriedly, no doubt because he sensed his time to make amends was running out.

“But curse or not, I've deserved my misfortunes. Do you still have compassion for this old sinner? Will you stick with me for my last few days on earth? With your third eye, will you watch over me in the other world?”

I was thinking that human nature is too complicated for my little brain. Right now I wished I was back in the library, pouring over obscure metaphysical manuscripts instead of trying to comfort an old man departing a far from exemplary life. In my heart I could not completely excuse him, yet I had no wish to further discomfit his last hours or days.

“What about where I'm headed. Do you think I will arrive in hell?”

He'd obviously had a severe Catholic upbringing, though he'd never referred to it. None of my visions had revealed anything like the old-fashioned hell. Rather the ghosts seemed obsessed with righting wrongs. That's what Laolao had always told me: try to be on as good terms with the dead as you are with the living. So I told him the best thing was to acknowledge the harms he had inflicted and ask for forgiveness. I thought this would be the only way he could ease his troubled conscience now. And I did want to comfort him. He'd never done anything bad to me, so I had no qualms about helping to ease his last days.

Just then a fiftyish, bespectacled doctor came in with a nurse. I discreetly left the room so they could tend to Alfredo. But to my surprise Maria was gone.

A few minutes later when the doctor and nurse came out, I asked, “Doctor, how is my friend doing?”

The doctor studied me for a few seconds, then said in a near-whisper, “I'll give him at best one to two weeks. So if you're his daughter or wife, be prepared.”

So cold talking about a person's few remaining days. Besides, how could I be Alfredo's daughter; did I suddenly look Spanish?

“How come he can still talk so well if he's so sick?”

He didn't answer me directly. “My advice is, since his mind is clear and he can still communicate, you had better discuss important matters with him as soon as possible, before he sinks into coma. You understand?”

“Certainly, and thank you, Doctor.”

But he was already headed away, down the hall.

When I went back inside Alfredo's room, he was sleeping. I wanted to go back to the castle to look for the money but felt I should stay by his bedside. I imagined what it must be like to wake up, remember you are dying, and have only the four white hospital walls for company.

So I stayed by Alfredo's bedside and dozed off until his voice awakened me.

“Eileen, Eileen . . .”

I rubbed my eyes and saw my friend's ravaged face.

“You're still here?”

I nodded.

He sighed. “I'd have never imagined that on my deathbed the only one who cared enough to stay with me would be a stranger, a Chinese woman from across the sea.”

“Alfredo, I wish I could do more.... I can't leave you by yourself.”

He looked out the window, then turned back to me. “Eileen, this has been hard on you too. You need rest. I'll be fine. Please go back to my castle, have Maria cook you a nourishing meal, and sleep on your comfortable bed. But I hope you will come back here tomorrow.”

I nodded. “Of course.”

As if suddenly realizing something, he asked, “Where's Maria? She's supposed to be here.”

I'd been wondering the same. “She's probably gone back to the castle to rest; she's worn-out too.”

“Maybe. But she should have stayed. When you see her, tell her to come back tomorrow. Get a good rest, Eileen.”

“I will.”

“Your kind face is what motivates me to stay alive, at least for as long as I can.”

I stooped to kiss his cheek and felt his tears.

34

A Rich Old Maid

B
ack at the castle, there was no response to the doorbell, so I pounded on the thick wooden door, without result. Then I picked up a stone and pounded even harder. Still no Maria. Suddenly I felt so stupid that I tapped my head, a traditional Chinese way of waking up one's brain. Alfredo must have the key and I should have asked him for it!

Maybe Maria had taken off to spend the night with a friend or go out somewhere to have fun. I was feeling a little panicky because I had no idea where I could spend the night. I decided to try one last time. I threw myself against the door shoulder-first and was happily surprised to have it swing open with a loud squeak like a ghost's cry.

Just in case it was a ghost who'd helped me, I muttered a thank you. After all, Laolao had told me that wherever you are, there's always a ghost nearby. Maria was usually in the kitchen so I walked there first, but there was no sign of her. Nor was she in her room. I checked the other rooms we usually used, but they were all empty.

It was a relief to have a roof over my head for the night. But given the stress of the day, I could not imagine being able to fall asleep. And despite my shame at suddenly realizing that I did want the hidden money after all, I found my legs dragging me toward the music room. I needed to see if those legendary stacks of cash and gold actually existed. Real or imaginary, so far they had caused only misery.

Walking toward the music room, I was all too aware of being the only living being in this huge castle, surrounded by the black night. Laolao had always warned me that after midnight, any dwelling place, especially old ones, is filled with denizens of the other realm who'd silently watch our every move. I'd never believed her, at least not back in our cheery apartment in brightly lit Hong Kong.

Supposedly, these entities usually don't mean any harm; they're just curious—apparently the other world is a pretty boring place. Whether or not their spirits were really near me, my mind was obsessed with unnerving thoughts of Isabelle, Sabrina, Penelope, the supposed hidden treasure, and the witches. And Alfredo, too, now on the threshold of the other world himself—or maybe already there.

Laolao had told me if I was careful not to provoke otherworldly entities, they'd leave me alone, out of mutual respect. But what would offend a ghost? I had no idea.

Still, to be on the safe side, I muttered a soft, respectful, “Hello, all of you, hope you're all having a great time. I'll go ahead with what I came for and won't bother you. I hope you'll also respect my space and leave me alone.”

After that, my heart beating fast, I stepped inside the music room. Before I switched on the light, I saw, or at least thought I saw, a woman sitting by the piano. Feeling icy water seeping down my spine, I flicked on the light and looked again. There was no one there. Had it been Penelope's ghost waiting for me? I was sure that if she'd been alive, the woman would have bitterly resented me, and if she was really a ghost, would resent me even more, since I knew she was a murderess.

Despite my pounding heart, I was resolved to complete my mission, so I approached the huge grand piano, which looked forlorn under the eerie light of the grand chandelier. My eyes searched the space underneath the musical instrument and saw the piles of musical notation covered with dust. It was indeed a clever hiding place, for no one was going to move such a massive object and sort through the piles of moldering books and papers.

As I started to move the papers, I noticed that some seemed to have been recently disturbed. Coughing due to the clouds of dust I created, I removed the piles and began to tap on the floor. I easily detected where there was a hollow space. I hurried to the kitchen and returned with a big knife, then started to pry and lift the planks. As I did so, I noticed places where the varnish seemed to have been scraped off the wood.

After a few planks were lifted I saw a deep space underneath. But my happiness at find the hiding place was short-lived. I saw no cash or gold, just an empty space. Then I noticed a few torn banknotes stuck between planks. So money had been stored there.

Someone had beaten me to the treasure!

But who? Not Alfredo for sure. Not Isabelle, nor Sabrina, nor Penelope. As far as I knew, ghosts could not steal anything material. But Nathalia was still alive. I noticed that despite my chill, I was soaked with sweat, whether from the exertion of clearing the floor or plain fear, I couldn't tell.

Just then I was startled by the phone ringing insistently. Chinese term such a phone call
zuihuan
—a ghost call to lure your soul to the underworld. But I didn't have time to think, for my feet had already brought me to the phone and my hand had snatched up the receiver.

“Hello, who's this?”

“Señorita Eileen, it's Maria.”

I fervently hoped that she would not come home before I'd had a chance to straighten up her master's music room. But I also felt relief that I might not have to spend the night at the castle alone.

Maria's voice was uneasy and I could hear her heavy breathing on the other end of the line.

“Where are you, Maria? Señor Alfrenso has been asking for you. He wants you to be at the hospital early tomorrow morning.”

“I'm afraid I can't do that.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, but I'll no longer be working for Señor Alfrenso.”

“Why now? It's the time señor needs you the most.”

“Because I no longer need to work for him.”

She paused to breathe again before blurting out, “I took all his money and gold from under the piano.”

It took a few seconds for this to sink in.

“So it was you who took everything?”

“Yes, Señorita Eileen.”

“How did you know he hid his money there?”

“I overheard your conversation when I was outside señor's hospital room.”

She went on. “Since what I took under the piano will be enough for me for the rest of my life, I'll leave what's under the lake for you.”

This was certainly not unselfishness on her part. She knew that neither of us could get to this money.

She went on. “That's why I had to leave so quickly. . . . Remember I told you that my mother also worked for señor?”

“Yes, I do.”

“She worked her butt off; then she died and I had no choice but to take her place. Stuck in this castle in the middle of nowhere, I never had a chance to get married. Now no one will want me, it's hopeless. So I believe that señor owes me the money. Finally I can have a life.”

I was puzzled by her confessing to me. “Maria, why are you telling me this?”

“I know you're kind and won't hurt me. You, a stranger foreigner, are the only one who's been nice to me. Penelope was the worst. She was mean and treated everyone as her inferiors.”

This didn't surprise me, she was a murderer after all. “What about señor?”

“He never cared about me or my mother, we're just servants. I called because I don't want you to think señor lied to you—no reason for you to keep looking for what's not there anymore.”

She paused to take her breath, then said, “I also want you to tell señor that I took the money.”

“Why?”

“To spite him, that's why. Also, I don't want him to think you took the money and pretended that there was no money there.”

“You're not afraid I'll call the police?”

I doubted I would report her, but she wouldn't know this.

“It's all illegal money anyway. But some others may know about it. Cecily, she's a sneak. She's been in the castle; she probably knows where it was, so watch out for her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. I saw her snooping around with her witch friends when señor was away. She probably knows about what's under the lake too.”

“How come Cecily and her group know about the lake?”

“I think she hypnotized señor. She even hypnotized me once, but I didn't know anything useful for her. She's just been waiting for the right time to act.”

“But even if they know about the valuables under the lake, how can they get at it?”

“Just look at her followers, all big and muscular.”

“Even so, I don't think anyone can get it without hiring professional divers.”

“That's why they wanted to get the treasure from the castle first—so they'd have the money to hire workers to bring it up from the lake. Why do you think they were always hanging around the castle here?”

My thoughts were interrupted by Maria laughing crazily. “Hahaha! But it's me who is lucky, not those bitches!”

I didn't respond and she spoke again. “All right, I've got to go. Don't change your mind and report me to the police. They'll never find me anyway. Farewell, Señorita Eileen; I hope we'll never meet again.”

She added. “One last thing, I already told the driver and gardener they could leave. So they're no longer working for Señor Alfrenso either.”

“And they listened to you?”

“I told them señor is not going to make it and his lawyer will contact them about possible compensation after his passing.”

After that she hung up.

I made my way to my room, locked the door, put a chair against it, and collapsed on the bed. Despite these precautions, I was too afraid to sleep, not so much of ghosts as of human evil.

I must have finally dozed off because I was awakened by the sound of the phone ringing ceaselessly. Sun was streaming in as I ran down the hall to answer. Glancing at my watch, I saw it was already two o'clock in the afternoon. In my groggy state, I wondered if it was Maria calling again. I even wondered if her earlier phone call had been a dream.

I snatched up the phone. It was not Maria, but a man's voice. “Can I speak to Maria, Señor Alfrenso's housekeeper?”

“What do you want from her?”

“Whom am I speaking to?”

“Señor Alfrenso's friend.”

“Were you with him at the hospital yesterday?”

“Yes, that's me, Eileen Chen.”

“Then I'm sorry to tell you that Señor Alfrenso has passed away.”

I felt bad I had overslept and lost my chance to see my friend once more.

“When did that happen?”

“Just about an hour ago. I am Antonio Mendez, his lawyer. Fortunately Señor Alfrenso was able to change his will before that. He left most of his fortune to charity.”

“I'm coming over to the hospital right now.”

“There's no need. You're not a relative, so you do not need to sign anything.”

Anyway I didn't think I should go to the hospital. When I'd kissed Alfredo good-bye, though weak he looked peaceful. I felt sad enough without having to look at his empty bed. I did not know what would happen here, now that the Heartbreak Castle had broken another heart—mine.

Outside the castle, I took a last walk around the grounds. Then I spotted a familiar creature—the white horse Lonlon, looking handsome yet melancholic. Do animals know when their master has just passed? It seemed that he did. I went up to caress his muzzle and mane reassuringly.

In response, he looked deeply into my eyes, seemingly saying, “Don't be sad, señorita. This is life, things come and go, prosper and whither. . . .”

I did not know what would happen to him either. I thought out loud. “Poor creature, Alfredo and Maria are both gone. Who's going to take care of you now?”

He leaned his head close to mine as if saying, “Don't worry, the lawyers, they'll take care of everything. . . .”

I stroked his mane one more time, then walked away, my heart as heavy as the rocks on the bottom of Past Life Lake. The castle was not a happy place, and I knew I would never come back. Now it was in the hands of the lawyers, the category of humans closest to undertakers.

 

That afternoon while having tea at the hotel café and reading the local newspaper, I saw an article about Alfredo.