Part 15 (2/2)

After she heard the story, Alma bit her lip and folded her hands before her. She closed her eyes for a second. ”This is difficult to talk about,” she said. Behind her, a spider monkey banged on the fencing of his pen, grimacing and crying out, exposing his perversely pink gums and white, white teeth. He reminded Monica of Leticia. A tear of perspiration streaked down Bruce's temple, and he sat rigid, his eyes obscured behind dark sungla.s.ses.

”It began when Mateo Jesus was a fisherman at the port of La Libertad.” Alma pointed toward the station where they had seen the half-blind fisherman. ”It was that last weekend before ... everything got out of control. That last day, he sent word that he had pulled up a variety of cone sh.e.l.l that he had never seen before.”

DONA MAGNOLIA MaRMOL DE BORRERO paced the floor of her bedroom, throwing handfuls of her dirty laundry at her daughter as she shouted. ”I hear people whispering behind our backs, Alma. 'Can you believe Magnolia's daughter is involved with that dirty paced the floor of her bedroom, throwing handfuls of her dirty laundry at her daughter as she shouted. ”I hear people whispering behind our backs, Alma. 'Can you believe Magnolia's daughter is involved with that dirty comunista?' comunista?' Oh, what a delicious tidbit.” Oh, what a delicious tidbit.”

”We're partners in a humanitarian project,” Alma replied, catching a stiff, nude-colored girdle and letting it drop to the marble floor. ”And besides, none of the gossips at your 'society' tea parties contribute a d.a.m.n thing that's worth the oxygen they consume.”

”The h.e.l.l with what they they do. You're involved with Maximiliano and I know it, and you know it, and everyone knows it, including the government. It's obscene, Alma Marina. It's morally wrong and it's dangerous.” do. You're involved with Maximiliano and I know it, and you know it, and everyone knows it, including the government. It's obscene, Alma Marina. It's morally wrong and it's dangerous.”

Alma picked up her mother's silky slips, conical bra.s.sieres, underwear, and dirty washcloths and tossed them on the mattress of the four-post bed. ”When we find the furiosus furiosus, I won't have reason to find myself alone with Max anymore. When I decide to cut off contact, it will be for me.” She cupped a spot above her heart. ”Not for Monica, not for you, or Bruce or your criminal friends in the high military or any of those hypocrites you care so much about.” She shouted the word hypocrites hypocrites, then resumed her calm tone. ”I hate it here, you know that? I hate my life in El Salvador. I hate my boring marriage, I hate the shallowness, the fixation on materialism, the greed, and all the while, the campesinos have nothing to eat.”

”Maximiliano has turned you into someone I don't know,” Magnolia said, her hands on her hips. ”Did you know that those filthy communists slaughtered one hundred and sixty head of prime cattle and twelve calves at Hacienda del Bosque last night? The Montenegros lost seven million colones.”

Alma could see a blue vein had plumped up in her mother's throat. ”Maximiliano is a doctor, Mother. He heals humans, he doesn't kill cows, so don't blame it on him.”

Magnolia pointed her finger at her daughter. ”Don't you dare tell me that you agree with his politics. If this country falls to communism, we're all going to burn in h.e.l.l, because that's what communism is, Alma, it's a prison with no windows. Our warden will be some, some demonio peludo demonio peludo, some hairy beast who doesn't shower or believe in G.o.d.”

”I haven't showered in two days, come to think of it,” Alma said, raising her elbow over her head and sniffing loudly. ”I must be communist.”

”Do you enjoy mortifying me?”

”Do you enjoy yoking me like a beast?” Alma shouted back.

”Forget about the cone sh.e.l.l. Go home. Be a mother. Be a wife. Be a decent woman for G.o.d's sake.”

Alma turned her back to her mother. ”Mateo Jesus said this one is special. I'm going to see it.”

”Fine, I'll go with you tomorrow morning. I know more about local mollusks than anyone else in this entire country besides you. We'll be back in San Salvador by afternoon.”

”I'm not fifteen, Mother.”

Magnolia pointed at Alma's face again. ”Because you're going to meet Maximiliano, aren't you? You G.o.dless little wh.o.r.e.” She spat a bit as she said it.

Something inside Alma snapped. Some basic outrage that had nothing to do with Maximiliano, or the country's war, but rather, was part of a lifelong war fought with words, needles of varying size that provoked them both into a constant state of inflammation. Alma grabbed the bundle of laundry off the bed and threw it at her mother. She groaned with the force she put behind it. Then she turned and ran, leaving Magnolia hurling obscenities and insults from the center of a pile of laundry stinking of stale French perfume.

In less than five seconds, Alma was flying down the grand staircase of her parents' home, heading toward her car. The affair was going to have to cool off, Alma knew, at least until she and Max each decided once and for all either to cut things off with their spouses or say good-bye. She loved Max with all her heart, but the quest for the furiosus furiosus had deteriorated into a sad excuse for adultery, and for now, they both felt a sense of duty and obligation to their families. Besides, Max's wife, Leticia, was stalking her, slas.h.i.+ng the tires on her car and following her and Monica around from store to store at Metrocentro. Just a week ago, Leticia had thrown a sack of had deteriorated into a sad excuse for adultery, and for now, they both felt a sense of duty and obligation to their families. Besides, Max's wife, Leticia, was stalking her, slas.h.i.+ng the tires on her car and following her and Monica around from store to store at Metrocentro. Just a week ago, Leticia had thrown a sack of cebada cebada flour at her in the supermarket, showering her with pink dust, a spectacle for all to see. No, her mother didn't know the half of it. And now Leticia was after the cone sh.e.l.l too, trying to beat her to the finish line, thinking that the slimy little trophy would win her Max's love. It was sick, she knew. But it was just her life, and what a small sacrifice it was if she could find the cone, copy the venom, ma.s.s-produce it, and offer it to anyone who was in chronic pain. They had also talked about selling it at a premium on the world market, then using the profit to create schools or housing or orphanages or to buy up farmland and parcel it out to the humblest peasants. If their unlikely alliance could culminate in the realization of a single dream, then perhaps the princess and the pauper could snap the social codes like paper shackles and make some good things happen in El Salvador. And then what could anyone say? Max and Alma. Making love. Making medicine. Making their lives count. flour at her in the supermarket, showering her with pink dust, a spectacle for all to see. No, her mother didn't know the half of it. And now Leticia was after the cone sh.e.l.l too, trying to beat her to the finish line, thinking that the slimy little trophy would win her Max's love. It was sick, she knew. But it was just her life, and what a small sacrifice it was if she could find the cone, copy the venom, ma.s.s-produce it, and offer it to anyone who was in chronic pain. They had also talked about selling it at a premium on the world market, then using the profit to create schools or housing or orphanages or to buy up farmland and parcel it out to the humblest peasants. If their unlikely alliance could culminate in the realization of a single dream, then perhaps the princess and the pauper could snap the social codes like paper shackles and make some good things happen in El Salvador. And then what could anyone say? Max and Alma. Making love. Making medicine. Making their lives count.

Alma and Maximiliano had agreed to meet at the fishermen's wharf at La Libertad to take a look at the new cone. She had made up a story to appease Bruce, who was caught up in reporting the Zona Rosa killings. She and Max had quarreled about this when Alma complained that the violence at Zona Rosa, perpetrated by a communist sect similar to Max's, had been shameful and pointless. Max had argued that the ”imperialist gringos” needed to ”lose a few appendages” before they would understand that it was time to back off and go home.

Normally, Alma would grant Monica the opportunity to be present at every sighting of a suspected Conus furiosus. Conus furiosus. But the situation with Leticia was getting explosive. As Alma packed her overnight bag, she tried to push away her anger and focused on the possibility that this cone might be the right one. She had a cleaned, polished But the situation with Leticia was getting explosive. As Alma packed her overnight bag, she tried to push away her anger and focused on the possibility that this cone might be the right one. She had a cleaned, polished furiosus furiosus sh.e.l.l in her collection, but a live one would look very different, with the outside still hooded with the protective skin of the periostrac.u.m. Mateo Jesus was a sharp and reliable fisherman who knew his sea creatures. Since he didn't have access to a telephone, he had sent word to Alma via an employee of his local Borr-Lac distributor. sh.e.l.l in her collection, but a live one would look very different, with the outside still hooded with the protective skin of the periostrac.u.m. Mateo Jesus was a sharp and reliable fisherman who knew his sea creatures. Since he didn't have access to a telephone, he had sent word to Alma via an employee of his local Borr-Lac distributor.

THE WHARF AT LA LIBERTAD was extremely busy on a Sat.u.r.day morning, lined with crudely built fis.h.i.+ng boats tied up to the sides of the pier. Alma looked around but didn't see Max, so she strolled along the pier, drinking in the pungent scent of the sea. The array of marine produce was dazzling: flattened, dried, and salted stingrays strung on a rope like freshly washed laundry, nurse sharks stacked on top of each other in barrels, barracuda laid out like French baguettes, baring sinister teeth. She scolded the vendors who were selling soft-boiled sea turtle eggs, a popular snack at the seaside bars and resorts. Some of the stands offered raw, inky sh.e.l.lfish marinated in lime juice, red onion, and cilantro, and of course, cold Pilseners. was extremely busy on a Sat.u.r.day morning, lined with crudely built fis.h.i.+ng boats tied up to the sides of the pier. Alma looked around but didn't see Max, so she strolled along the pier, drinking in the pungent scent of the sea. The array of marine produce was dazzling: flattened, dried, and salted stingrays strung on a rope like freshly washed laundry, nurse sharks stacked on top of each other in barrels, barracuda laid out like French baguettes, baring sinister teeth. She scolded the vendors who were selling soft-boiled sea turtle eggs, a popular snack at the seaside bars and resorts. Some of the stands offered raw, inky sh.e.l.lfish marinated in lime juice, red onion, and cilantro, and of course, cold Pilseners.

At a trinket booth, Alma bought a necklace with a shark tooth hooked on string for Monica, exactly like the one Alma always wore around her neck. It infuriated Magnolia to see her daughter sport a shark tooth the size of an arrowhead from a gold choker that had been intended to display a sapphire-and-diamond-encrusted cross. It's who I am It's who I am, Alma thought.

Alma asked around for Mateo Jesus and found him at the end of the pier, selling shrimp and octopus. He nodded at her, then pulled up a cracked, red dishpan and dropped it on top of his iced-shrimp display. Inside, a three-inch-long cone sh.e.l.l sat half-submerged in dark gray sand and water. He handed her a set of metal tongs and she used them to turn the creature over. The frilly foot of the gastropod swirled like live, angry dough, and a harpoon shot out so quickly she had to look up at Mateo Jesus to confirm that she had indeed seen something.

”Cuidado,” Mateo Jesus warned. ”I know you respect these creatures, but be very careful with this one. I've never seen anything like it.” Mateo Jesus warned. ”I know you respect these creatures, but be very careful with this one. I've never seen anything like it.”

”I will be” Alma said. ”This little guy looks lethal. It's very similar to the furiosus furiosus, Mateo Jesus, but it's completely solid. The furiosus furiosus invariably has at least a sprinkle of red toward the top. But it could be an abnormality, so I'll take him anyway. I'll send him over to the university. We can extract his venom for testing and keep him alive in a tank.” She reached into her bag and handed Mateo Jesus fifty colones. He shrugged at her in a way that made her reach into her purse and pull out another ten. invariably has at least a sprinkle of red toward the top. But it could be an abnormality, so I'll take him anyway. I'll send him over to the university. We can extract his venom for testing and keep him alive in a tank.” She reached into her bag and handed Mateo Jesus fifty colones. He shrugged at her in a way that made her reach into her purse and pull out another ten.

”I'll keep looking, Nina Alma.”

”Just remember, don't show anything to anyone else unless you call me first.”

”Understood.”

Alma walked down the pier with the pan held between both hands, water slos.h.i.+ng from side to side. She saw Max in the parking lot and he helped her put the pan in her Land Rover, on the floor of the front pa.s.senger side, half-tucked underneath the seat, with rags snaked around it to keep it from sliding around. He kissed her and said, ”I'm needed at El Trovador again. I can use your help for an hour or two.”

Alma remembered Magnolia's rage, and worried what her mother might do. Still, she was sure her mother would not tell Bruce, nor would she know where to find her after they left the wharf. ”I'll call home and leave instructions with the maid. I'll tell Monica what to tell Bruce, and where I really am, in case of an emergency.”

”I still don't think it's such a good idea to trust a kid with that kind of information. In fact, I feel sorry for her. Why do you have to be so open with her? It makes me uncomfortable. She knows exactly what's going on.”

”She can handle it, Max. Besides, I don't want my daughter to grow up thinking that everyone else lives like a Borrero. Because of the exposure, she has developed empathy, sensitivity, wisdom, maturity. She's not a brat like I was at her age. You saw how she wanted to adopt that baby, how she accused me of being an insensitive rich hypocrite. I had to discipline her because of the disrespectful way she spoke to me, but all the while I was thinking, 'Bravo, Monica. You're standing up for what you believe.' ”

Alma found a public phone and told her daughter that she was heading to El Trovador to help Max tend to some peasants. She instructed Monica to tell her father that she had decided to make an unexpected trip to Guatemala, and that she'd be back Monday morning. She felt guilty about teaching Monica to lie, so instead, she focused her thoughts on the finish line. The furiosus furiosus was still out there. was still out there.

LATER THAT DAY, when they arrived at Hacienda El Trovador, there was no one, which was strange, because normally a couple of people guarded the entrance. ”Who are we expecting?” Alma asked, wondering what, if anything, she could do to help Max prepare for his patients. She had helped him many times before, and so she knew what to expect. Soon, the bleeding and the sick would arrive smelling faintly of fruit, from the truckload of fresh sugarcane, oranges, or lemons they had hidden beneath to slip by a military checkpoint. when they arrived at Hacienda El Trovador, there was no one, which was strange, because normally a couple of people guarded the entrance. ”Who are we expecting?” Alma asked, wondering what, if anything, she could do to help Max prepare for his patients. She had helped him many times before, and so she knew what to expect. Soon, the bleeding and the sick would arrive smelling faintly of fruit, from the truckload of fresh sugarcane, oranges, or lemons they had hidden beneath to slip by a military checkpoint.

An hour pa.s.sed before they heard a truck in the distance, saw the boiling cloud of dust as it pa.s.sed through the open gate and sped toward the beach house. Max and Alma waved and ran to meet the truck.

When the truck was a little more than a hundred yards away, Maximiliano suddenly slammed his hand across Alma's chest, almost knocking her down. ”Run,” he shouted, his voice filled with terror. ”Militares.” ”Militares.”

She spun around and followed him, sprinting and sinking in the soft ground that was half-dirt, half-sand, her body flooding with adrenaline. She ran until her lungs felt as if they were going to explode and her legs were wood, in a sheer, blind panic, with the truck gaining ground behind them. To be caught here would mean she was a sympathizer, an aider and abettor, and the military didn't take this kindly.

Slightly ahead of her, Max continued running toward the sea, and when she looked up, she suddenly understood what he had in mind. She saw a small motorboat, remembering that it had been used to smuggle in arms from Nicaragua the night before. Escape by sea, she thought. Perfect.

And that's when Max broke away and ran ahead. She thought him clever to push ahead to get the engine started, and he did. Alma rejoiced at the sound of the engine roaring to life. Thank G.o.d, she thought.

Then, the boat spit up white water and tore away.

And he left her.

Alma jumped up and down on the sh.o.r.e, screaming his name. She might have jumped in after him, but he was crouched down, not looking back, which paralyzed her with shock. She looked behind her. The soldiers stopped the truck and jumped out.

She couldn't believe he'd left her. Did he think she'd be all right on sh.o.r.e because, like it or not, she was really one of them? Or was he ultimately just another coward trying to save his own skin?

She raised her arms when she saw that she was cornered. One of the men grabbed her while the others ran into the water and shot at the boat with a weapon that looked like a portable rocket launcher. The sound rocked her, and she fell to her knees. An explosion followed, fiery pieces glowing on top of the water, dark smoke rising like a volcanic eruption. Only a flat, main section of the hull remained on the surface of the water, a smoking raft floating away.

<script>