A Story of Mexico

Vanessa could not believe her luck. Or rather, her lack of it. She had just barely left the airport, rented a car, and was over a hundred miles away from Mexico City when her rental car blew up.

"No, no, no!" Vanessa pleaded with the vehicle, as she heard a second loud bang and smoke began pouring out of the engine. "Damn it, not now!" She was only an hour away from her business meeting with the corporate bigwigs of El Dorado Financing Group, and now she would be stranded. On top of that, her cell phone battery was dead.

She had never had car trouble in her life. Leave it to the weekend of her big deal for this to happen. Vanessa had been Assistant Vice President of Hancock & Jones Mutual for four years now, and since Vice President Carl Langley was set to retire next year, she was certain she was in the running. And since Hancock & Jones had decided to go global, Vanessa knew that being sent to Mexico City to talk with the El Dorado people was her big chance to prove that she was right for the job.

But she wouldn't prove that by getting herself lost in the middle of a country road in Mexico. By sheer will, Vanessa perpetuated the rolling car forward, over a slight hill, then downward. To her great relief, she saw a small gas station in the distance, off to the right.

"Come on, you piece of crap," she growled, pounding her foot against the gas pedal as the vehicle began to sputter and die. It rolled slowly, inch by painful inch, until it stopped about thirty feet away from the station. Vanessa took the key out of the ignition and sighed, leaning her head back against the sticky leather seat. It was too hot in this godforsaken country. At least one hundred degrees in the car, with the windows down. Vanessa silk blue suit was moist with sweat, and she was certain she was staining the armpits. She had rented the car without air conditioning, hoping to save some money. So much it had done for her.

Finally Vanessa got out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her. She cursed as she tripped on the dirt road in her high heels, and she kicked the shoes off. Carrying the shoes in one hand and her purse in the other, she walked along the sun scorched road in her bare feet toward the gas station. Already she felt the curls in her strawberry-blond hair wilting, and several strands stuck to her face. Irritated by the obstruction and the heat, she tried to blow the hair off, but it was held fast by the sweat on her forehead and in her eyes.

As Vanessa approached the station, she ignored the stares of several men sitting in lawn chairs in front of the building. Most of them were young, perhaps her age or even younger, but one of the Mexicans was an older man with gray hair and a handlebar mustache, wearing a tattered cowboy hat. Next to him loyally sat a medium-sized dog, also passed its prime, who looked like it had been hit by a car several times. One of its ears was half-missing, and puss seeped out of its large brown eyes. Its tail was gone, and its large tongue was hanging from its mouth as it panted furiously to keep cool from the scorching heat.

Vanessa approached the group, and they did not bother to hide the fact that they were staring. She couldn't blame them, really. She must have looked a fright. Two of the young men were wearing white tank tops with blue jeans, and they both had similar short haircuts and dark goatees. They could have been twins, except that one was a whole head taller than the other, and one was about fifty pounds heavier.

"My car broke down," Vanessa told them, pointing in the direction of her inoperable vehicle. "Is there a phone here that I can use?"

They all just sat there and looked at her with blank faces, and Vanessa cursed under her breath. She knew she should have brushed up on her Spanish before she left New York. "Uh," she started again, "Donde esta . . . el telephone?"

Still she drew no response from them. She dropped her shoes to the ground and ran a hand over her tangled hair, and from the corner of her eye she saw one of the young men elbow his companion, and he spoke to him in soft Spanish. His friend grinned as he replied, and the two of them chuckled. Vanessa found this very rude, and was about to tear them a new one when she felt a tug on her arm. She looked down and saw a small boy, about nine or ten, holding a small yellow box.

"Chiclet?" the boy asked, a wide grin on his face, as he held up the box to her. Vanessa glanced at it, and realized that it was a box of chewing gum. Annoyed, she shook her head.

"No, I don't want any gum. I need a phone. Doesn't anyone around here speak English? Hablo Englais?"

"Guillermo," came a voice from the station building, and the little boy turned his head at the same time as Vanessa. Out of the station walked a tall man in a white cowboy hat, wiping off his hands with a grease covered towel. For a moment, Vanessa was stunned by the sight of him. He appeared to be in his early thirties, his face clean-shaven, wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top button undone. He gestured to the boy with his head, and spoke a series of brief, commanding words that sent the boy sprinting into the doors of the station.

Vanessa watched as the man came closer, and was surprised by the quick beating of her heart as he drew near. He was incredibly good-looking, and didn't appear to be Mexican for the exception of his dark brown eyes, and long, feminine eyelashes. Not to mention his long black hair, that was cut to chin-length, and curled behind his ears. He had a bit of a tan complexion, but it was hard to tell if it was his heritage or the rays of the sun that toned the golden brown skin.

At last, he stopped a few feet away from her, and Vanessa swallowed the lump in her throat. He looked her over briefly, and Vanessa wondered what he was inspecting her for. At last, he said, "Is there something I can do for you, Senorita?"

For the moment, Vanessa forgot about how gorgeous this guy was, overcome with joy that he spoke English, and very well, with very little hint of an accent. "Yes, thank God! My car broke down, just down the road there, and I need to use a phone."

"The phone is out of order," the handsome man told her. As Vanessa cursed angrily, he glanced down the road where the car was stranded. "What is the problem?"

Vanessa shook her head in frustration. "I don't know, the engine blew up, it's a rental car, and I have to call them to get a new one, and I have a meeting in less than an hour, and I'm not going to make it in time-"

The man held up his hand to silence her, just as one of the young men sitting behind him called out, "Johnny!", followed by a series of words in Spanish too fast for Vanessa to make out. However, she thought she recognized the word gringa, and if she remembered right, they were talking about her, and not in a nice way. Her eyes narrowed in the young man's direction.

The man called Johnny replied to the younger man sharply, then took on a commanding tone as he pointed in the direction of Vanessa's car. The two young men groaned, standing up from their chairs. As they walked passed her, they both gave Vanessa suggestive looks, and were leering at her like hyenas. Vanessa glared back, and took a step in the opposite direction.

"I'll take a look at it," said Johnny, and Vanessa's attention went back to him. "It may take an hour or two."

Vanessa groaned. "That long? Are you sure there's not a phone nearby that I can use?"

Johnny looked up the road thoughtfully. "Maria's hacienda is a few miles east of here. After I look at your car, I can give you a ride up there."

Looking past him, Vanessa glanced in the direction he'd indicated. To the east, the dirt road inclined into a winding hill, and she thought she saw a large house sitting atop the hill. She groaned inwardly, as the realization set in that she was not going to make her meeting today. She would have to reschedule, and that could take weeks, maybe months. Plus, she'd have to get a sooner return flight home. This trip had been for nothing.

"All right," Vanessa agreed finally.

Johnny nodded. "Have a seat. This will take a little time."

A little time was not what Vanessa expected. It took twenty-five minutes for the three men to push the car into the station's garage, and another thirty for Johnny to inspect the engine. Vanessa sat in one of the lawn chairs, her silk jacket airing over the back of the seat, and she was down to her white blouse and knee length skirt. Keeping her legs crossed and her arms across her chest, she tried to tune out the stares and the comments of the two young men, who kept saying things to her as they passed by, then laughing together as they walked off. Thank God the old man was quiet, sitting one chair away from her, staring off into the distance. The dog didn't even come over to say hello, but finally laid down at the old man's boots. Vanessa glanced in his direction from time to time, wondering what he was thinking about, his eyes glued to the horizon.

Vanessa looked down at her wristwatch, just as Johnny came out of the garage and sauntered over to her. His hands were covered in grease, and he had a smudge on his cheek. Vanessa resisted the urge to stand up and wipe it off with her thumb, just for the chance to touch his smooth skin.

"There is nothing I can do," Johnny said. "The car needs a new engine. I don't know why they let you drive out of the rental with this vehicle."

Vanessa scoffed. Figures, she didn't even bother to buy renter's insurance. Well, she could always charge it to the company's account. "Can you get me to a phone?" she asked.

Johnny paused as he took the rag out of his jeans pocket, wiping off his hands and face. Then he put it back in his pocket, and settled his hands on his hips. "My truck is behind the station. Just let me bring it up."

After he drove up in a large, run-down pickup truck, Johnny helped Vanessa get her luggage out of the rental car and put it in the back of the truck. Then he got into the driver's seat, and Vanessa climbed up into the passenger side. Johnny turned the key in the ignition, and the truck roared to life. For a guy who seemed to know a lot about cars, he didn't seem to mind that he needed a new muffler.

The ride was painfully quiet as Johnny drove the truck up the steep hill. Vanessa sat a distance away from him in the cab, leaning against the door. Being in such close quarters with him made her uncomfortable; even at this proximity, her heart was beating like a bongo drum. She finally broke the awkward silence by asking him, "So, are you Mexican?" Such a dumb question, she thought as soon as the words came out, but it was too late now to take them back.

But still, Johnny answered. "My mother was Mexican, and my father was American."

"Really?" Vanessa said, but he didn't seem eager to continue the conversation, so she didn't press him. The rest of the ride was continued silence, as the truck drove up the winding hill, making Vanessa more than a little nervous at the wide turns. Finally, they came to the hacienda. It was very picturesque, the kind of house you would see on a Mexican postcard. There was a garden of exotic flowers out front, and a small ceramic birdbath, where two sparrows wet their feathers, singing jovially.

Vanessa followed Johnny to the front door, where he walked in without knocking. Vanessa paused a moment behind him before entering the hacienda. The front room was made up like a small lobby, with a couple of chairs sitting against the wall, and a desk counter. Behind the counter was a series of shelves, and several keys hanging up on hooks.

A phone sat on the desk, and Vanessa eyed it eagerly. Still, she waited as Johnny stepped further into the room, calling out a woman's name: "Maria!"

Through a door behind the counter walked out a short, stout Mexican woman, perhaps in her sixties, with her graying dark brown hair pulled up in a messy bun. She wore a light yellow summer dress, and she grinned, revealing the wrinkles in her face when she saw the male visitor.

"Johnny!" she exclaimed, walking out from behind the counter to greet him with a big hug. Johnny had to bend down to meet the woman's short stature, and he returned her warm smile with one of his own.

"Como estas?" the woman asked him, after pulling away and meeting him at arm's length.

"Muey bueno," he replied. Then Johnny stepped back from her and gestured towards Vanessa. "Maria, this woman would like to use your telephone."

"Si, si, of course," Maria said, looking over at Vanessa with smiling eyes. "Hello, there. What is your name?"

"It's Vanessa," Vanessa replied, and took a step forward to shake the woman's hand. Instead, the woman enfolded her in a warm hug, taking Vanessa by surprise. When at last Maria let her go, Vanessa said, "I'm sorry, I really need to make a few phone calls."

"Oh, yes, go right ahead," Maria insisted. Vanessa walked over to the phone, and proceeded to dial the number of the head corporate office of Hancock & Jones. She didn't see Maria sideling up to Johnny, nor did she overhear their conversation. Not that she could have understood them, anyway, since they had returned to speaking in Spanish.

"What a pretty girl," Maria spoke softly to Johnny. "Where did you pick her up?"

Johnny smiled crookedly. "She's an American, and speaks barely a word of Spanish. Her car broke down by the station, and I gave her a ride."

"An American?" Maria repeated, with great interest. "One of your own, eh? How lucky for you! When are you going to take her out?"

Johnny chuckled. "I don't think so, Maria. She seems to be here for business, not pleasure. Besides, I don't have time for wooing women anymore."

"Ah, nonsense! You are still young, and besides, it is time you settled down."

They quieted as Vanessa's voice rose over the phone. "Three days? You've got to be kidding me! I can't wait three days for another car! I've got to get to Mexico City!" She stood angrily with her hand on her hip, her eyebrows knotted. Then she sighed as she shook her head, placing her palm against her forehead. "All right, fine. Have them dropped it off at the gas station in . . ."

She stopped, looking over at Johnny and Maria. "Where are we?"

"Los Veritas," Maria replied.

Vanessa repeated the name into the phone, then hung up. Then she dug into her purse for a slip of paper, one with the number of the El Dorado Corporate office in Mexico City. She quickly dialed the number, then said as a receptionist answered the phone, in broken Spanish, "I need to speak with Senor Jorge Geraldo, please."

As she waited for the call to go through, she glanced over at Johnny and Maria, who were watching her with interest. She managed to give them an awkward smile, rolling her eyes to explain that she was waiting on hold. Finally, she was met with a deep voice over the phone, and she went on to explain to Senor Geraldo that the meeting with Hancock & Jones' Assistant Vice President would have to be rescheduled. The president of El Dorado did not seem pleased, but agreed to reschedule the meeting in three weeks. Sighing, Vanessa thanked him and hung up the phone.

"Well, that's that," she told them, her expression tired. "I have to wait three days for a new car, the president of my company is pissed off that I'm using his money, and Jorge Geraldo from El Dorado can't see me for three more weeks. My ass is so close to getting fired."

Vanessa rubbed her temples with her fingertips, as a strong headache formed in her skull. Finally, she stood up straight and faced the others. "Is there a hotel nearby I can get to?"

"Oh, nonsense, you can stay here," Maria insisted. "I never get guests coming this way any more, and I should be happy for the company."

Vanessa hesitated. She would have much rather been put up in a nice luxury hotel, with cable TV and air conditioning. But she felt terrible passing up the kind woman's hospitality. "Well, how much do you charge per night?"

"We can talk about that later," Maria replied, then walked over to Vanessa and took hold of her arm. "Come, I've got the perfect room for you."

The older woman began dragging Vanessa toward a set of stairs, but Vanessa peered back towards the door. "Um, my luggage-?"

Johnny was already walking out the door before she even began to speak. So Vanessa let Maria walk her up the stairs, until they stopped just outside a small door. Maria took a ring of keys from off her wrist, flipping through them until she found the one she was looking for. She unlocked the door and opened it wide, and Vanessa followed her inside.

It was a small room, but charming nonetheless. A single bed sat in the corner, covered by a brightly colored quilt and two pillows. Vanessa had no doubt that Maria had made the quilt herself, and it was designed with various pictures of flowers, leaves, and other symbols of nature. Against the wall stood a tall antique dresser, and even an old wardrobe. Hung up on the wall was a rather large wooden cross, with a pewter image of Jesus Christ hanging from it. Vanessa found it to be very beautiful, and yet slightly unsettling.

"This used to be my grandmother's room," Maria told her. "She stayed with my husband and I for a short while, but she died long ago."

"Where is your husband?" Vanessa asked.

"He has passed from this world," Maria explained, and Vanessa mentally put her foot in her mouth.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!"

Maria smiled kindly, waving her hand in dismissal. "It was a long time ago. Do not worry yourself."

Just then, Johnny walked into the room, carrying Vanessa's luggage. He set down the large bags in front of the dresser, and then stood to adjust his hat. Vanessa walked over and opened up one of luggage pieces, glancing up at Johnny.

"I'd give you a tip, but all I have right now is a credit card," she joked. Johnny smiled, but said nothing, and Vanessa turned her head away from him awkwardly. Smooth, Vanessa, she chastised herself. Real smooth. A simple "thank you" would have done just fine.

"The bathroom is just down the hall," Maria went on. "The plumbing is old, but it still works. Sorry, I don't have a shower. Just a bathtub."

"That's fine," Vanessa told her. "A bath sounds perfect right now."

"Well, let me get you some towels, then." Maria left the room, leaving Johnny and Vanessa alone in the tight quarters. Immediately, Vanessa tensed, as she stood up from her luggage with a change of clothes hugged tightly to her chest.

"Thanks a lot for all your help," she told him, a little shyly.

Johnny nodded curtly. "So, the rental car will be dropped off at the gas station in three days?"

Vanessa nodded. "Yeah, by three P.M. on Monday. I hope that's not an inconvenience."

He smiled, and Vanessa's knees turned to jelly. She was never like this around guys. She usually had too many things on her mind, more important things. But something about this man made her heart stop beating in her chest, and sent chills up and down her body.

"It's no inconvenience," he assured her. "I'll just make sure to tell the others not to take it out for a joyride."

Vanessa knew he was kidding, and she chuckled, but in the back of her mind, she wouldn't put anything passed those two hyenas at the station. She realized that Johnny was still talking, and was saying his goodbyes.

" . . . can't trust those boys to run the station on their own for too long."

Vanessa smiled, and nodded. "Okay. Well, thanks again. Muchos gracias."

Johnny tipped his hat in reply, and left the room just as Maria was returning. He told her goodbye, then disappeared down the stairs.

"Here are the towels," Maria said, setting them down on top of the dresser. "If you need any more, there are some in the hall closet. I'll leave you alone."

She walked out of the room and closed the door. Vanessa laid out her clothes on the bed- a blue, short sleeve blouse and a pair of shorts. As she straightened out the wrinkles from the fabric, her mind wandered back to Johnny. She wished that she had had more time to talk with him, and now she probably wasn't going to see him until Monday. Even then, she was only going there to pick up her car, and wouldn't have time to talk. But she was being silly. It wasn't like they could really start anything. She would be going back to the U.S. in just a few days.