Page 32 of Vistaria Has Fallen
People put plates and bowls of food on the tables. Colorful salsas, rolled tortillas. There were more dishes she could not name. They made her mouth water just looking at them, with their sprinkling of fresh herbs and garnishes of hibiscus and cucumbers.
Minnie came over to her, carrying two glasses. “It’s apunch. Alcoholic,” she told Calli, offering her one.
Calli shrugged and sipped. The sweet-and-sour tang held a pleasant, rum-like flavor. “Strong.”
“It’s good,” Minnie declared. “Come and sit with us.” She led Calli over to the table closest to the edge of the courtyard. Beyond the knee-high wall, the ground plunged.
Elvira sat at the table and Pietro had just set down another steaming dish.
“Eat,” Elvira said, handing Calli a large, bright napkin as she sat.
Duardo brought the short man who had been standing at the chopping block over to their table. “Calli, Minnie, this is Hernandez Mendosa, whose house this is. Hernandez is marshal at Lozano base.”
Hernandez bowed to them, the hand gripping a tea towel held to his chest. “I welcome you to my home,” he said. “I regret, my wifeMenaka, she cannot stand with me. She is being comfortable.” He waved to the armchair in the corner by the kitchen window, where Menaka sat rubbing her swollen stomach. “She is very tired.”
“I’m sure,” Minnie agreed. “It’s nice to meet you, Hernandez. You have a lovely home and thank you for welcoming us into it. We appreciate your hospitality.”
“Thank you,” he said and bowed again. “Will youexcuse me, please? I must go back. These soldiers...they eat much.”
Pietro chuckled and Hernandez waved a hand at him before heading back to his kitchen. Duardo dropped into a chair and reached for a plate.
“Is everyone here a soldier?” Calli asked, looking around.
“Yes, all,” Pietro agreed. He ate busily. Elvira had risen from her chair and wandered over to the other table to select food fromdishes there, while talking to the people around that table.
A rotund man came to their table and selected a tortillas.
“And this is Pav,” Duardo said.
The man laughed and nodded at them.
“‘Pavarotti,’” Pietro explained and patted the man’s distended stomach.
“Right.”
Pav moved away and Calli leaned forward to examine the dishes. Duardo and Pietro described each one, the spiciness and theingredients. Elvira came back to the table and added her own knowledge about the preparation of the dishes.
Pietro refilled their glasses of punch.
Calli ate and drank and relaxed, surrounded by people that enjoyed life and welcomed her. They were a lively group. As the pace of eating slowed, guitars were picked up. At first the music was slow and coaxing. Soon, though, a man stood with a shoutand stamped his feet, throwing his hands up in the air. It was a declaration. An entrance.
The guitar players picked up the pace. The dancer moved out onto the clear space at the end of the courtyard, tapping his way with expert steps, while the others cheered him on with claps and whistles.
Elvira ran over to him, lifted her skirt to reveal her knees and tapped out intricate steps that sentup a cheer of encouragement.
“Elvira!” someone called. Two small brown objects flew through the air. She caught them and paused to work at them. Then she lifted her hand with a graceful flick. The castanets rattled out a tattoo. She stamped her feet in time.
Two more got to their feet, clapping along with the guitars. Another woman, who had not been on the truck, joined Elvira. Her hands liftedin the same graceful motions as she danced different steps.
“They seem to just do their own thing,” Minnie murmured.
“Whatever the music tells them to do,” Calli said. “They look great.” She heard, with wry resignation, the touch of envy in her tone. That seductive gracefulness had always been beyond her capabilities.
“You can do that,” Pietro told Calli.
She laughed. “Not me.”
“Yes, mostcertainly,” Duardo added. He picked up Minnie’s hand. “You, too. Come.”
