Aída Besançon Spencer

Cave of Little Faces


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“And now you must see my wife, who is eagerly waiting to greet you.”

      “How is Doña Lucia?”

      “She is well, Josefina. She is over in the main house. She has so much to supervise in the preparation for the dignitaries—we both do. They will be coming from all the tribal centers—Borinken, Nueva York, Kuva. They will be coming soon—the delegates for the ‘passing and passing on’ celebration. You are ready, Querida?”

      Jo looked at him baffled. “Ready for what?”

      “You have spoken to Señor Cueva de Piedra?”

      “The lawyer? No. I received a letter from him, but we didn’t speak. In fact, we’ve just arrived. We came here right from the airport. Dad and Mom said they would meet us or send someone, but they didn’t. I’m worried about them. Are they all right?”

      “Yes, of course. YaYa has not heaped sorrow upon sorrow. They are safe, but something has happened—not to them directly—but they have gone to the mountain.”

      “The mountain?” said Jo.

      “Yes.”

      “Don Ramón, all of my life, when I’ve come here since I was a little girl, my parents and Uncle Sol would leave us and go to the mountain. They would be there while we stayed with you and your children here. I’ve always been puzzled by it—why to ‘the mountain’? Uncle Sol would take me out onto the mountains to walk and talk, but—is that what they would do for a month? Walk and talk on the mountains?”

      “No, Josefina. You are very wise. That is not exactly what they would do.”

      “So, what would they do on the mountain?”

      “Nothing.”

      “Nothing?”

      “No, what they would do was in the mountain.”

      Jo stared at him. She realized her mouth had dropped open. “In the mountain. What on earth does that mean?”

      Don Ramón smiled and said, “Josefina, you have much to learn in the next several days.”

      “What is the mountain?” she demanded.

      “It is your inheritance.”

      “My inheritance? You mean, along with the beach house I am inheriting a mountain?”

      “No, your inheritance is the mountain.”

      “What? What about Las Olas del Sol? We are not inheriting this property?”

      “No.”

      “Oh, it’s going to our dad.”

      “No.”

      “Who is inheriting this?”

      “No one.”

      “I’m confused. I thought I was Uncle Sol’s heir.”

      “And that you are, my dear.”

      “Wasn’t this his house?”

      “It was his home.”

      “His home, but not his house?”

      “That is correct.”

      “Who owns the house?”

      “The Tribe.”

      Ruby, Danny, and Ben are not going to like this, thought Jo. And so much for my plans to sell the beach house and finance the learning center and the rest of what I’m planning to do in Richfield. “I see,” said Jo, though she really didn’t see at all. “So, someone else will be staying here, then.”

      “No, my dear one, this will now be your home.”

      “My home!”

      “Yes, of course.”

      “Wait a minute!” cried Jo. “I’m not moving to the Dominican Republic—I have a life—I have my ministry in New Jersey. I can’t come here!”

      “Josefina, you really must talk with the lawyer. He will explain everything.”

      Jo’s head was reeling. “I want to talk with my father,” she insisted.

      “And so you shall. Let us go up to the house. Your brother and sisters are no doubt waiting for you.”

      “And also—no doubt—getting in the way of Doña Lucia.”

      Don Ramón smiled, “As you say.”

      This was indeed the case, as Jo knew it would be. Ben was sitting in the kitchen when they arrived, eating from the various pastries the chefs were preparing. Ruby was barking orders to several patient helpers who had been moving furniture, and they listened to her deferentially as if she actually knew where everything should be. Daniela was among the missing. Jo guessed shrewdly Danny was up in the bathroom gauging the damage that the trip had caused her hair and her makeup. After that, she would be laying out the new beach attire she had bought in their one obligatory stop on the way.

      When Jo finally rounded up her three siblings, they were none too pleased that they would not be staying at the beach house.

      Jo tried to lay it out for them. “Many important people are coming from every tribal center to honor Uncle Sol. They must talk with each other and plan the celebrations and meetings and what they have to do.”

      “Well, we’re important,” huffed Ruby. “We are the heirs after all!”

      Jo decided to let that lie for now. “We have the best of accomodations. We will be staying next door at Los Diamantes del Mar Hotel.” Well, that changed everything, as Jo knew it would.

      “Oh, that’s great,” enthused Ruby. “I love Los Diamantes.”

      “Yes, the proprietor, who is a staunch friend of all of us, is always gracious and willing to serve you,” said Don Ramón.

      “I’m for Los Diamantes!” agreed Daniela.

      “I, for one, would rather stay at the Bravado Beach Hotel. I love Los Diamantes, of course—who doesn’t—” started Ben, “but . . .”

      Jo shot a glance at Ruby.

      “No, you don’t!” ruled Ruby in her most definitive coach-makes-the-rules style. “All you want to do is belly up to the gaming tables there. You’re staying with us so I can keep an eye on you!”

      “Hey, Rube, you’re not my mom.”

      “Mom isn’t here. I’m the stand-in!”

      “You’re younger than me!”

      “Yes, but a whole lot smarter—and I’m not broke.”

      “But, I got a system I got to try out . . .”

      “I’ll go with you some night,” offered Daniela to try to bring back peace.

      Ruby shot her a withering glance.

      “Let’s get back to business,” said Jo. “We can sort this out later. Right now we need to see how we can be helpful around here. There’s a lot to do.”

      “If we’re moving, I’ve got to go over to reserve our rooms,” contended Ruby.

      “Me, too, I’ll go with you,” agreed Danny.

      “Don’t look at me. I’m not the organized one,” grumbled Ben, still miffed at being thwarted from camping out twenty-four hours a day at the Bravado Beach casino.

      “Fine,” said Jo, resigned as always. “You all go ahead. I’ll be there later. I can walk over.”

      As the three piled out to the car, Don Ramón Romero leaned toward Jo and confided, “It’s just as well, Josefina. For you will be staying here.”

      10

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