The Wonders of Leonor (Pt.2)

Leonor had told us about one of her helpers, who recently said he saw a ghost.  He saw her husband downstairs, milling about in his old office.  When the helper told Leonor he had to tell her something important, she expected something bad.  When he told her he had seen the ghost of her husband, she said, “Well, what did you say?”  The helper said nothing.  He just watched Manuel pass through the room.  He was afraid to address the apparition. “Why didn’t you tell him that you are watching over his house?” she said she asked the man as she laughed.  She continues on and says that the man lights a candle every night now, in some way to ward off any more appearances from the previous owner of the house. 

“Where did he see Manuel?” I ask.

“Downstairs.” She says. There is nothing odd about reports of ghost in old homes she says, after all, if a place has been there a long time, things are bound to happen in them. “Think about this place.  It is very old; surely there have been strange things happen in here that we know nothing about.” Leonor asks if we saw the room below.  We peeked in, but did not go inside because we were not sure if it was her place or not.  Tonya said she thought it was part of her house, because of the noticeable style.  Leonor says she is not afraid of ghosts or anything. In fact, she feels incredibly comfortable here, and says she sleeps better here than anywhere else she has lived.  No wonder really, as she and her husband lived her for over 40 years.  There is a lot in this house, both figuratively and literally.  Leonor asks if we would like some coffee, and orders her maid to make some, “Let’s move into the other room and enjoy the sunset” she says.

We plop down onto a cozy couch and Leonor sits opposite us.  The sun shining in her face.  We talk of more things and it seems as if no matter what topic comes up, there is a story that can relate to it.  The conversation carries on so that we miss the full effect of the sunset.  When we realize this, Leonor says that tomorrow we will have to go on to the roof for a fantastic view and to watch the sun slide away.  Leonor has told her help that we will take them home tonight.  Now that the sun has gone, there is no more work to be done outside, and she is ready to let her helpers go.  She excuses herself and goes to tell her maid and her helper that if they are finished, we can drive them now.

It is a little after six, but the sun has dropped behind the mountains.  It is dark.  We get in the car, and Leonor starts to instruct me on where to go.  Driving at night in Mexican mountains can be quite a thrill.  There are no street lights, and on many hairy turns, no guard rails either.  As we drive past one steep drop, I look to my right to catch a glimpse of the town.  Instead, I notice a steep drop off into nowhere.  I have a split second of uneasiness.  To calm myself, I poke Tonya and ask her if she saw what I just saw.  She shoots back for me to be quiet, that she feels very nervous driving through these twisting roads. “I fell sick looking down” she says.  We both laugh as we keep on to who knows where.  We drive further into the mountains to neighboring village.  I find it interesting how I have not seen a single other car since we started out.  “Does anyone drive on this road after dark?” I ask aloud, wondering if we are suckers for this undertaking.  Leonor translates to her maid.  She says that the buses do, but very few cars.  I feel slightly stupid being the guy driving a car at this time on this road.

As we come upon the outskirts of their village, they tell us to drive up a small hill and drop them off.  Leonor says goodbye to them, and they tell us “Gracias”.  We smile and wave back.  We go downhill, and start our trek back.  I am not too much for conversing, as I sit wide eyed and hands grasping the steering wheel.  It is darker even now, and as we round the first major curve, a bus goes blasting by.  If that is how these buses drive at night on these roads, it is a wonder that anyone is still alive. ‘That is the bus that they would have been on” Leonor points out.

When we get back home, Leonor asks if we are hungry.  I am not used to eating late lunches and going without dinner.  She says that we should at least have a glass of wine.  “Yes!” I chime in.  I could use a glass after all of this.  She tells us to sit at the table again, and brings out some cheeses, some bread and crackers and a bottle of wine.  ‘I feel bad Tim, not having dinner for you.  Is this OK?”  I smile and tell her everything is fine.  This fires off another round of thanks to her for inviting us into her home.  We sit and start peeling off strips of cheese as we talk, and with a glass of wine in front of each of us, we’re off again.

“Tim.  What do you think of Spanish?  Do you like it?  Are you learning the language?” Leonor turns to me.  I hate it when people here ask me this question.  I don’t want to lie, but this is a brutally honest answer. “I don’t.  I do not like Spanish at all…” It looks as if Leonor is a bit taken back with this, but maybe not.  “I do not like the way it sounds.  It has never appealed to me in the slightest.  I would like to be able to share a joke with people and have a laugh.  I would like to understand more and communicate when I have to, but I do not want to speak it fluently” I spill the hard truth.  I admit that it may have something to do with the fact that when I was young, I could not pronounce my ‘r’s good.  The Mexicans roll their 'r’s every chance they get.  The longer and more pronounced the roll, the better.  It is intimidating to a guy who really doesn’t want to try and utter this language, and when he comes face to face with any words with an r, he feels very inept.  Leonor lightens up and says she understands.  She had relatives here who never learned to speak Spanish, and Tonya’s father never took it seriously either.  Leonor has a story on this very topic, which she happily tells us.

One of her workers in Mexico City could not speak at all until he was 10 years old!  She describes the guy, and we both say we know who he is.  He is a dark guy, and he has Stevie Ray Vaughan teeth.  Those short, thick flat teeth like apes have.  When he does smile, it looks like a thin white line along the bottom of his brown gums.  We have made him smile before though, and he did warm up a bit to us, eventually taking some furniture that Tonya had offered to him. 

“This man could not speak until he was 10 years old.  At first, the family thought he was just quiet.  As he got older, they thought he had some sort of disability, but he didn’t.  He just could not talk!” Leonor says. “So, when he was 10, the family decided to take him to an old church in Toluca.  It was a very old St. Peter’s church.  Do you know St. Peter?” she asks before continuing.  I am not catholic, so I have no clue; I tell her a simple “no”.  “He is the keeper of the keys.  He holds the keys of heaven!” she says before admitting that aside from that, she is not sure what he does. “So-they took this young boy to the church and explained to the priest that he is 10 years old and does not talk.  The priest talked things over with the family to learn a bit more, and then asked to see the boy.  He looked at the boy.  He left and came back, and he held a set of old keys in his hand.  He told the boy to open his mouth, and took one of these big old keys to the church, and stuck it in his mouth”  Leonor opens her mouth and makes a swirling motion like she is doing the same, ‘The priest took these big old keys and put them into the boys mouth.  He went around and around his mouth, and touched his tongue with the key.  After that, the boy could soon begin to speak!  Can you imagine? Those old keys in your mouth?  I hope they disinfected them somehow!” she says with a load of laughter. “Tim, maybe we can take you to see this priest too!”  She seemed to think this was quite funny and we did as well.

As time wound down and the wine disappeared, Leonor announced she was tired and ready for bed, “With this” she said holding up her wine glass, ‘I will sleep like baby”.  We pick a bit and she says we are welcome to stay in the main room, but we feel a bit strange hanging out in there when she goes off to bed.  We politely decline and resign ourselves to our quarters.  She says good night and throws in a quick, ‘Hope you don’t see any ghosts!”

Tonya repeats the sentiment as we hear her lock the door behind us and we make our way to our room.  Once the lights start to go off, it is very, very dark here.  We get inside and close the big doors and set the latch, ‘Don’t want any boogiemen coming in” I tell Tonya.  We plop down on the bed and ask one another what the time is.  Barely 9pm!  What will we do now?  We laugh at our situation and how at home we would just be finishing up dinner.  Now, we are here and things are locked down tight under this veil of darkness.  Thankfully we thought ahead and brought some downloaded episodes of a series we have been watching.  We plug in a laptop and set it at the foot of the bed and crawl under the layers of blankets on the big old bed and catch up on our series.  Typical of Tonya, she falls asleep before the first episode is halfway done. 

I get up and put the computer away and turn off the remaining light.  I pull the covers up and look into a complete abyss.  This big room is solid black when the lights go out.  Now all is quiet and we are about to sleep in this very old house.  Thoughts race through my head as I look up at where the ceiling is even though I can’t see it.  There is not a sliver of light seen anywhere.  It has been a good day, and I am happy to be here.  I hope for a restful night.  Tonya’s already off to sleep and as I try to find my way there too, a stray cat is crying outside.  I hope Manuel doesn’t decide to come say hello.

(...continued)