Rocket Girl Ch. 05

Ramon was about to fall off his motorcycle from cold and fatigue. He stopped and stared at his wet map and the road ahead. His body shuddered violently with its involuntary attempts to shiver and that made things more difficult along with how his numb hands wouldn't work. Folding the map as carefully as he could, he turned the handlebars to swing the headlight in the rain, and just caught sight of the thin wagon ruts in the weeds that had been indicated on his map. He doubted if he could even get the bike through the mud here.

Lola had almost gone to bed but for the thunder that shook the house. She sat staring into the candle praying and calling to the one whose coming she'd seen. She'd been fairly certain that it would happen either this night or the next, but didn't know why. It would happen within the waxing of this moon - that was all that she knew. Above the clouds and the crashing storm, the moon was full. She was mesmerized as she sat, and had begun to think that her mind was sending sounds to her ears. And then she saw a light over the hill, one light attached to that sound, and it was winding its slow, tortured way up the hill through the ruts. She got up to light her oil lamp.

Ramon had gotten to the top of the hill, but what hill was it? He wasn't sure of anything anymore, but there was a house, so he motored over to it slowly, and pulled up under the overhang of the eaves. He shut off the bike and tried to get off. It took him several tries, but he managed it and even got the thing onto its stand without them both falling over. He felt nothing at all of his body. All that he felt was cold all through him. He hoped it wouldn't feel this way to be dead. The rain teemed down even harder, but he was past feeling anything now but cold. He didn't think that he could get up the three steps, they might as well have been the Pyrenees mountain range. The next thing her knew he was looking at the door. He raised his hand to knock.

Lola heard the machine under the eaves in front of her house. She listened to the loping sound as it idled there for several minutes until it finally stopped. There were dull footfalls up the short stairs and then nothing. She was quite frightened, despite her trust in the cards. Her right hand was in the large, deep pocket of her peasant dress, clutching her brother's pistol as she opened the door with her left. She saw the shape of a man just as the lightning flared close by and thunder boomed. She suppressed a scream, but then managed, "Yes?" The whole front of the house was in the cloud of steam from the cold damp air on the hot machine out there.

Ramon had seen her face in the lightning flash. The thought came to him that such beauty couldn't possibly be found growing wild in a miserable place such as this land of empty promises. He found that his English failed him. He'd need a working brain to be able to manage his broken English. All that would work was his Andalusian Spanish.

"Habla Espanol?"

"Si Senor," the apparition said, nodding earnestly.

He thought that if he wasn't dead, he might be pleased.

"Montoya? Lola Montoya?" Even Spanish was failing now, he thought.

She nodded and he fell into darkness.

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Lola stared at the wet form on her floor. She didn't know what to do, really. But there seemed to be only one thing to do, no matter how she looked at it. She doubted that she could have gotten him to her bed even if he was conscious and helping. He was too weak from cold, and he was unconscious. Moving him like this? It just wasn't possible. She set her lamp on a table, got all the bedding that she could find, and laid it out on the floor. Then she stripped all of his wet clothes off. After a minute, she smirked. All of his wet clothes were all of his clothes. She felt his skin and wondered how to get him warm. He'd need some warmth pretty quickly.

It took a bit, but she rolled him back and got some blankets under him, and then repeated the process until he was covered. Then she began to make a big pot of soup. If he made it through this, he'd need plenty of it. Then she lit some candles and turned out the lamp to save oil.

She checked on him again. She was dismayed to find that he was still icy to the touch. Now she was afraid that he might die. She thought about a lot of things in a short time, and decided that if this man was the one, then it was up to her to help him somehow. She took off her clothes and though it was difficult for her for a lot of reasons, she stretched herself out on top of him, and pulled the covers over them both. It was like lying on a corpse, she thought, and then pushed that thinking away as far as she could, hoping that it wasn't what she'd find beneath her in the morning.

After a while, Lola took the time to look at him in the dim flickering light as the rain kept up its incessant hiss. She was freezing herself now. She was sure that he was breathing. She must have checked a dozen times, but even with her weight on him, she heard and felt his shallow breath. He was in his late twenties, and might maybe be as old as thirty-two, she decided. She hoped that he didn't die - for a lot of reasons. She had no idea how she'd bury him, for one. For another, she felt in a way that she'd been given someone for herself in him - she just hoped that worked somehow, because if not, she was back to wishing she had the strength to use that pistol.

Lastly and to her importantly, she found that she liked him, and that made the warming of him easier for her. She just hoped that he was like what she saw in him and fervently prayed that he would like her. She felt that he was not a cruel man, and from his face she knew that he smiled often, and she liked that. His body told her that he was very strong, and she felt in her mind that he was a caring man who had not felt happiness for a time, but was not haunted by anything.

Yet.

She would know more if he lived and the reason for his trip became clear. What bothered her was her sense that he was not... connected to someone, and this might also have a reason in his questions later, because she'd seen his ring. But the message to her so long ago now was clear - this one was for her. That changed a lot of things for Lola.

She ran her fingers through his wet hair, and her thumb along the ridge of his ear. Then she touched his mustache for a full minute before finally giving in to her urge. She kissed him softly a few times, and began to speak to him quietly. It was mostly nonsense, but it made her feel better. An hour later, she ran her fingers through his hair again, and smiled.

He felt a bit warm now.

Lola did her best to hug him, and she kept up her soft chatter the rest of the night. In the morning, she left him for brief periods to check on her animals and the soup. As soon as she could, she was happy to feel her skin on his as she talked and sometimes kissed him softly. Late that evening, he opened his eyes. Lola said a silent prayer that he could be kept here by the love and concern that she was beginning to feel for him.

He was feverish now, but Lola did her best to answer the weak questions that his wandering mind could get past his lips. He often drifted off to sleep in the middle of a sentence, but Lola didn't mind now, she was happy that he'd come back this far. She was surprised that he was gone again, and yet she'd felt his body stir beneath her. After a bit of a debate with herself, she did what she thought the strange situation called for, and it didn't seem strange to her at all.

She knew that he was too weak from how bone-cold he'd been to even stand, but if this could be done, then his heart would have to work at pushing his blood around, and that would warm him more. She smiled very shyly to herself. It was her first attempt to claim him for herself, and - she admitted it - she hoped to set her hook in him in this way. She only hoped that her poor charms were sufficient.

His eyes opened a bit as he watched her above him, "What are you doing?"

She answered his weak question with a light kiss, "Shh, Senor. I am doing what I think we both need for me to do. There is no one here to see. Do you know your family name, Senor Ramon?"

He nodded, "I am Ramon Reyes. Are you an angel that you know my name, Senora?"

It made her smile, "Perhaps I am, Ramon. And perhaps I am only your angel. Is that good enough?"

He nodded, "Do you have a name, angel?"

She smiled, "You have forgotten it, but you told it to me yourself. I am called Lola. We can talk of it later, no? Right now, I want very much for you to get better."

"You are Lola Montoya?"

She nodded, "I am."

It was almost noon when he was able to sit up and she fed him the soup. He learned that he had found the right place somehow in the terrible storm. He told her of his search for her, and marveled that she didn't seem surprised. He asked her about it.

Lola smiled, and he found that he liked it when she did, but her answer troubled him, though at the same time, it spoke of her ability.

"I knew that you would come here, Ramon. The only thing I did not know for certain was the night, but I knew that it would be during this moon's waxing. I know some other things, but perhaps they would be best saved for later. I know that you are here to learn something. Can you tell me of it?"

He surprised her when he explained how he had gotten her name and then told her why he'd come, and what he ached to know. He offered her the money that he had in the saddlebag of his motorcycle. Lola listened. She already knew how much he had since she'd looked for herself as he'd slept. As destitute as she was, she'd squeezed her eyes shut and closed the cover again.

"Ramon," she said, "If you can wait only one day more, I will do my very best for you. I am tired myself now and would not trust the answers that I might find. Do not bother yourself about the money, Ramon. I need money, it must be obvious, but for this - for you? I want nothing but the smallest money that you have. It will not work without some money. Only let me rest a little, and if it is not too much to ask of you, could you please hold me for a while?"

He held her to him and wondered at her smile as she slept in his arms. She still looked like an angel to him, and he thought that she really must be one, the way that she seemed to feel no shame in her nakedness with him here. He admired her throat and her face, her shoulders - all that he could see of her. To him, she was surely a heavenly thing. She seemed to sleep with the pure and simple trust of a child, and so he concluded that if she was no angel, then she must be the earthbound equivalent - whatever that was.

He knew that he was ill, and why. He still felt driven to know. But he knew that he'd come here on the last reserves of his strength - and when that had failed him, she'd done her best to care for him, and given everything to do it, he remembered. Yet she'd asked for a minimum of money. It was difficult for him to comprehend. It was also difficult to bend his head down to kiss her softly, but he managed it a very few times before wrapping her up in his arms and the covers as he slowly repositioned himself to hold her while lying down. He was determined to let her sleep as much as she needed.

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That evening, they ate the last of her soup, and she began. Since he'd arrived and she'd cared for him, she'd fallen in love with him as if by magic. To make his blood move and to get some warmth into him, she'd lain with him, though he was far from her when she'd begun it, and she'd hoped desperately in her heart that he'd recover and stay with her. She didn't want the one-sided loving that she'd engaged in to be all that there could ever be between them. That would be such a cruel turn of her already sad life, to have lived here alone, had a man for a night or two and then to watch him ride off. If nothing else, she resolved that at least she'd had a man now, and it would make the use of her little pistol somewhat easier for there could be nothing after this final shame.

So for all of this time, they'd lived on her floor in her blankets. He'd been too weak, even after gaining a bit of his strength to walk steadily. She'd had to help him to stand and hold him up when he'd needed to urinate outside, and she'd even had to help him with that, since he trembled too much in his fever. She'd had to leave him to look after her animals, but every time as soon as she could, she returned to him, took off her simple clothes against all of the ways of her people, and just held him to keep him warm and help his shuddering weakness.

Lola was actually afraid of a few things. The pain that she'd learned would be in the cards made some sense to her now, but she did her best for him. What she learned surprised her, but she didn't think it would bring him much peace. At last, she looked at him.

"Ramon, I have tried several ways and several times each way. At first I thought that there was a mistake in the name of the ship, but it is the one. It is sunk - that I know. I also know that none survived the sinking. What I want to know now - is this enough for you?"

He looked sad, but shook his head, "No, Lola. I must know if my wife and child were on it. Please, Lola. I must know this."

He watched a tear form in her eye and wondered about it. Lola sighed and began, "Before this sinking, Ramon, before this ship had left port. I was tired of being alone here. I began to hope that I would die soon. Look around you. My parents are dead, my brother gone. I have been here alone for two years. But I learned that one night - during this moon - a man would come to me to learn something. I asked the questions many, many ways, Ramon. Always I learned the same things, and one of them was your first name."

She looked him in the eye, and he watched her tears run slowly. "I learned that the man who would come to me during this moon would want to know something from me, and that he is also the one for me. I know that you cannot believe it. Women who tell fortunes are famous for holding themselves as walking mysteries - knots of wisdom who cannot be unraveled. But I do not feel wise here with you now."

She took her kerchief and wiped her eyes, "I have some knowledge for your question, Ramon. But either you will not believe me, thinking that I try to keep you here for me - and I do want for you to stay with me now very much, or you will believe me and still will not stay."

She sobbed and looked down, "All that I knew in the beginning was that there was pain in the cards. I did not know that the pain would also bring my own sadness back to me."

Lola drew a breath and looked up.

"I know one name," she said, "Amaya. "

Ramon hissed between his teeth, "Antonio Amaya. Yes, I know that name. He was a suitor while I courted Rosalinda. He comes from old money, he stinks of it, and always he tried to come between us, Rosalinda and I."

Lola hung her head and wept hard. Ramon wondered at this for some minutes and waited for her to calm herself, but she didn't. She bent forward and touched her head to his crossed legs. She almost wailed in obvious grief.

He reached out to her and stroked her bare shoulders and back, "Lola, I am only a simple man and do not understand many things, I admit it. But if you are not an angel, then you most certainly have been as one to me. I need to know what I came here to ask, but to see you like this... Why?"

It took her some time, but she gained some control and began to speak haltingly. "Ramon, I learned that you would come, and that you are supposed to be mine - I have told you this to show that I am honest with you. I have already begun to love you in my poor way. I cannot lie to you and I never would, Ramon. But what I know of this here, ..." She raised herself to look at him, and what he saw tore at his chest to see it on her face.

She sniffled, "One cannot ask the questions and only pick and choose from the answers that come. Most times, we hold back and do not tell it all. We let the one who questions find their own meanings. It is often better that way."

She wiped her tears and her nose with her kerchief, "But I cannot do this for you, Ramon. It is the same about the money. You came with much to find your answer. I saw, but I did not touch it, though I am needy myself. For you, I must tell it all and hold nothing back, though it means that I will probably lose the one for me in the telling of it." She sobbed for herself a bit more, and then looked into his eyes, "This will hurt you to hear, Ramon - and I would never want to hurt you. Are you prepared for this?"

Ramon was confused. He felt a lot for this one, he thought, this angel who had brought him back from a cold hell. But he needed to know the truth if she had it in her to tell him. "I sought out a Gitano because there is no other way for me to know here. I want to say to you that for what you have done for me - for what you are doing - I tell you that you have my trust, Lola."

He smiled warmly, "It is said among us that one should never trust the words of a fortune teller fully. But like this and with what has happened between us, how could I not trust such a one as you?"

He reached for her hands and held them gently. "If you say that there will be pain, Senora, then I remind you that I came here already in pain to learn if there was a hope. But I have already prepared myself for the worst. I must know this. I am ready."

Lola sobbed and looked at him with pity in her eyes. She shook her head and whispered, "Not for this, Ramon." She hoped that he didn't do anything unthinking in his pain, and closed her eyes, praying for his poor heart for all that she was worth for one last moment.

And then she said it in the same whispered voice, "Jesus, Mary and all of the saints forgive me for what I say to you now. I believe that you did hear her call to you. Rosalinda Reyes was on the ship, along with the child Isabella. Rosalinda was with this man, Amaya. It feels strongly to me that she never planned to come to you here. They had planned to land in New York and travel by train to Los Angeles to live there together. And perhaps the worst for you comes now, Ramon. Isabella was not your daughter. She was fathered by Amaya."

She watched the effect that her words had on him. His face opened with the shock of it, and then he began to quietly cry. Lola wanted to tear her hair out for what she'd said. She would have done anything to have made this better for him. But there was nothing that she could do. She leaned forward to raise herself to her knees and she hugged his head to her as they wept.

The pain of a husband is one thing, and the pain of a father is another. The pain of both combined can tear a man apart. But this? She had no words for it and no idea what else to do other than what she felt that she had to do.

Ramon wept for most of the night. Lola held him, only letting him go when he sunk lower in his grief, before holding him tightly once more. Toward morning, he still wept, but she began gently to love him. It was the only thing that she felt that she could do for him. She chattered softly to him all over again, but now she was telling him in a small voice how she loved him in between her soft kisses. At first, only his manhood listened to her - the rest of him was passive. But as the sun rose over the mountains, she found that she was no longer the only one of them giving to the other. Her soft cry in the dim light signaled the very first orgasm that she'd ever experienced in the arms of a very thankful man who loved her.

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Ramon awoke from a beam of sunlight in his eyes. He turned his head away, and found that he was alone in their nest of blankets on the floor. His heart was still hurting him and he felt sadness, but he knew that it was no longer completely broken.