suitable for you to go running around like that. What do you think you are, anyway, a cane gatherer?”
“I – I don’t know,” she admitted with a reluctant shrug of her shoulders.
Rosa laughed long and loud, and the ample bulk of her body shook. Her amazement at the young woman’s naiveté filled the room.
“You silly girl. With beauty like yours – those curls, those green eyes – do you think Manuel Colón would have you toiling in the cane like a common fieldhand? That is a job for a man, little one. Of course he will keep you here to adorn his home.”
“I – I don’t understand.”
“You will, my dear. Let us get you something to wear, yes? I am sure there must be something your size in the bottom of this chest of drawers. Maria is about your size.”
Sabine shifted uncomfortably as Rosa pulled out a violet skirt and a white blouse; they were well worn, but in good repair. The older woman laid them out on one of the beds carefully.
“The cot by the window will be yours,” she continued. “Juana and Maria will be in soon. There is a tub in the corner with water. It should still be warm. The girls will help you empty it.”
Rosa left with a smile and a wave of her hand, closing the door behind her.
A bath. How long had it been? Forever, it seemed. The thought sent a charge of desire through her. Plunging into the small tub, she closed her eyes, and scrubbed vigorously at the layers of dirt that coated her skin.
Drying quickly, Sabine replaced her soiled and tattered clothing with the garments Rosa had given her. So wonderful and clean she felt. And her hair. Gloriously free of filth; now soft and wild with curls. She never thought she’d look forward to wrestling with her unruly tresses.
With a sigh she sat back on the cot Rosa had assigned her. She separated the snarls carefully with her fingers as her tired eyes perused the small room she shared with her absent roommates. The dusty-grey walls were void of any decoration, with the exception of a small crucifix which hung over the doorway. An ancient clock hung on one wall, patiently ticking away the minutes, the hours she had spent within the confines of this prison.
Sabine shifted on the mattress, her eyelids heavy with sleep. No matter how hard she tried to fight it, rest continued to beckon her. The bed was soft and filled with musty straw for ticking. It was certainly better than the hard wooden bench to which she had become accustomed.
But when she lay down, sleep stubbornly refused to come. Unsettling thoughts pressed at her brain, nagging and pestering relentlessly. What had become of the others? Pauline, Patsy and the rest? Had they found places? Had Arianna finally convinced someone to contact her family? Sabine hoped, at least, Pauline had been taken in by someone kind. And she was quite positive Patsy had charmed the pants off some rich planter, even with her snappy street ways and sharp tongue. But what of Mauda? She was neither young nor beautiful.
The clock on the wall chimed eleven, and a giggle came from down the hall, startling Sabine to an upright position. The door swung open with a clatter and her two companions fell into the room with a titter of laughter. The smaller of the two grinned broadly as she flipped her dark braid over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with great interest. The other stood in the doorway, full lips pursed, her almond eyes hard, speculative.
“Sabine?”
The slight girl pointed a delicate finger in question, and Sabine nodded in reply.
“I am Maria,” she said in halting English, her smile never faltering. “This is Juana. She does not speak English, but I do…a little. Rosa taught me. Please forgive me if I do not say the right thing.”
Turning to Juana, Maria beckoned her with a quick gesture of her hand. The taller girl did not move, but continued to inspect her new roommate critically from afar,
“I – I don’t know,” she admitted with a reluctant shrug of her shoulders.
Rosa laughed long and loud, and the ample bulk of her body shook. Her amazement at the young woman’s naiveté filled the room.
“You silly girl. With beauty like yours – those curls, those green eyes – do you think Manuel Colón would have you toiling in the cane like a common fieldhand? That is a job for a man, little one. Of course he will keep you here to adorn his home.”
“I – I don’t understand.”
“You will, my dear. Let us get you something to wear, yes? I am sure there must be something your size in the bottom of this chest of drawers. Maria is about your size.”
Sabine shifted uncomfortably as Rosa pulled out a violet skirt and a white blouse; they were well worn, but in good repair. The older woman laid them out on one of the beds carefully.
“The cot by the window will be yours,” she continued. “Juana and Maria will be in soon. There is a tub in the corner with water. It should still be warm. The girls will help you empty it.”
Rosa left with a smile and a wave of her hand, closing the door behind her.
A bath. How long had it been? Forever, it seemed. The thought sent a charge of desire through her. Plunging into the small tub, she closed her eyes, and scrubbed vigorously at the layers of dirt that coated her skin.
Drying quickly, Sabine replaced her soiled and tattered clothing with the garments Rosa had given her. So wonderful and clean she felt. And her hair. Gloriously free of filth; now soft and wild with curls. She never thought she’d look forward to wrestling with her unruly tresses.
With a sigh she sat back on the cot Rosa had assigned her. She separated the snarls carefully with her fingers as her tired eyes perused the small room she shared with her absent roommates. The dusty-grey walls were void of any decoration, with the exception of a small crucifix which hung over the doorway. An ancient clock hung on one wall, patiently ticking away the minutes, the hours she had spent within the confines of this prison.
Sabine shifted on the mattress, her eyelids heavy with sleep. No matter how hard she tried to fight it, rest continued to beckon her. The bed was soft and filled with musty straw for ticking. It was certainly better than the hard wooden bench to which she had become accustomed.
But when she lay down, sleep stubbornly refused to come. Unsettling thoughts pressed at her brain, nagging and pestering relentlessly. What had become of the others? Pauline, Patsy and the rest? Had they found places? Had Arianna finally convinced someone to contact her family? Sabine hoped, at least, Pauline had been taken in by someone kind. And she was quite positive Patsy had charmed the pants off some rich planter, even with her snappy street ways and sharp tongue. But what of Mauda? She was neither young nor beautiful.
The clock on the wall chimed eleven, and a giggle came from down the hall, startling Sabine to an upright position. The door swung open with a clatter and her two companions fell into the room with a titter of laughter. The smaller of the two grinned broadly as she flipped her dark braid over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with great interest. The other stood in the doorway, full lips pursed, her almond eyes hard, speculative.
“Sabine?”
The slight girl pointed a delicate finger in question, and Sabine nodded in reply.
“I am Maria,” she said in halting English, her smile never faltering. “This is Juana. She does not speak English, but I do…a little. Rosa taught me. Please forgive me if I do not say the right thing.”
Turning to Juana, Maria beckoned her with a quick gesture of her hand. The taller girl did not move, but continued to inspect her new roommate critically from afar,
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