Passion Dance: Chapter 05

CHAPTER FIVE

Brazil, 1994

She walked over with bold steps, holding up her purse and striding to the front desk of a seemingly fully-booked place, “Is our reservation ready?” She said this quite impatiently, though not intending to make it sound that harsh, for she was really excited. She knew John would love what she has just prepared for him.
“And which reservations are these, ma’am?” ,the attendant of the front desk asked her back with all the politeness he could muster.
“The ’de la Vega’ reservation”, she said trying her very best to sound as calm as possible. She couldn’t contain the excitement that crawled from inside her and forced its way up her throat.
“Oh, yes, I’m very sorry ma’am, I should have known...”, the attendant apologized in haste as he saw that they reserved something quite heavy and without question the biggest thing that may have happened in the months before. “Yes ma’am, right away...”
By now, just as the chief attendant called his crew to attend to their ’big’ guests with his desk bell, John came back from the steps of the outside veranda. He decided to stay there and look at the place outside for it was his very first time to see such a beautiful place in all the places he has ever visited in his travels. He might’ve been to Puerto Rico, Cuba, the Amazons, Madagascar, some parts of Africa, and quite a lot of other places, but he has never seen a place more serene and calm, and yet there was just this uncanny atmosphere of mystery and adventure awaiting them. From the outside, he had heard sounds of rushing water, large and strong, but he had no idea of what the place holds for him. ’I guess it’s for me to find out...’
“Maria, what’s this place?”, John inquired of her with his hands on her arms, “It is quite unlike anything or anywhere I have ever seen or have gone to!”
“Oh, mi amore, you will find out later, soon enough...”
“Ooh, this place just oozes with mystery... I can’t wait...”, then he flashed Maria that naughty, playful and quite meaningful look,
“Now stop it, John, not here!” Maria told him hastily, hoping the attendants that now came rushing to the welcoming room yet still maintaining their perfect poise would ever catch them at it.
“Alright... But later, I’ll get you...” A grin played on his luscious lips,
’Oh gosh, he is sexier than ever! He really is my man...’, Maria thought through restrained heat which was seething out from her skin from down deep.
“Right this way, if you would please...”, said the attendant that looked, with his attire and poise all of which stood out quite strangely from the other ones, like he was the head over the others. Bowing politely, he turned his right hand towards a little door partly covered by a shard of what seemed like hundreds of shining little beads of clear crystals tied in strings. By the side of the archway that seemed to lead right out back of the little reception hall stood a slender looking idol, it served more as an ornament and curious object of design than an item of worship for the way it was placed beside the dark mahogany door.
Maria led John through the door briskly, obviously not letting any second pass by more without showing him what she had planned about a day or so before this special one. As they went through the archway and out the doorway, a pungent, earthy, yet sweet and overwhelming scent flooded their senses so that both of them had to stop blank in their steps and enjoy this sudden pleasure. From the very feel of it, the place was filled with a strong presence of ethereal beauty and unworldly magic, one that has been connected to that of a sad love story, with a love potion gone wrong or a tragic ending to the perfectly sweet bond of lovers.
When John opened his eyes at last, he just had to ask the attendant now coming from the door after them, “Say, may I ask, what is this… presence? I feel as if I have seen or have been even here before... I feel a strange sense of familiarity and tragedy but strong and pure love, why is this so?”
“Oh, sir, what you are feeling is the very magic of this place...”, began the attendant, “but I do believe this is not a comfortable place to hear this place’s sad yet sweet past. It is quite a long story and I would love to first bring you to the place you have booked, serve you with our delicacies, then, when all is comfortable, I will tell it to you as I myself have heard it from my mother who heard it from her mother and so on, it is a very old legend you see... But I guess it is just what makes this place special from all others....”
“Sure, why not? But as long as you promise me you’ll tell the story, or I’m afraid I won’t ever have the sleep I long for tonight.”, John joked in.
“Certainly sir, and now if you could follow me...”, said the attendant, now smiling a smile that stretched from the very ends of his mouth, this way his dimples showed, and for a moment, Maria thought he was quite cute for an attendant.
He then led them to a narrow path of stone steps, rough on the sides but extremely smooth and comfortable to walk on, around a lake that had its source far, far away, where one could see the great Iguaçu Falls that surpass any known waterfalls in the planet of its beauty and the admirers of it as well, which marks the separation line of Argentina and Brazil. It looked more majestic than ever. John have heard of the Iguaçu Falls, but has never seen it himself. Now that the wonder of wonders is only a number of steps away, he saw it in its glory, ’It really is the stuff of legends...’
They continued on in what seemed to be forever passing in slow, very slow motion, with the cool night breeze from the lake brushing past them from time to time, and the clashing, gentle yet strong, waters of the falls meeting that of the lake that sat at its end. The air smelled of a pungent aroma of sweet earth, the kind that is gentle to the nose yet leaves that unexplainable feeling of melancholy and sad beauty. The feel of the whole place really was just beautiful and sad beyond the description of words, no poet on earth could ever explain the beauty and paint the richness of the surroundings without needing to take his audience there and then in that place.
As they reached a clearing, for they were walking on pleasantly soft and luscious grass that twinkled with drops from the shower just that afternoon, they saw an elegantly fashioned house, though quite little and probably has only a single room and a porch with benches crafted from wood. The attendant further led them to a part hidden by a grove of grown trees, to a place near the shores, when the land met the kind waters. There, they found a picnic table of wood and log, though rather rough looking, but its edges and surfaces were really smooth as polished stone, lit up with the help of a long and slender red candle crafted with gold etches placed in the middle of it, and some stout and cute-looking, not to mention awfully romantic, candles of baby pastel colors of pink, baby blue, sky blue, lavender, rich luscious yellow, and many others. There were two wooden seats, round and comfortable enough with a slight cover of cushioned pillow to make sitting on it much pleasant than on hard and smooth wood. The table had a pair of dining sets intended just for the two of them, complete with wine glasses, water glasses and a lot more utensils and silverware seen in awfully expensive restaurants. They also noticed, as they sat down on their seats, that there were three musicians seated on chairs a meter or two away from the table. As soon as they were settled, the musicians started playing this wonderfully romantic and surprisingly familiar piece. Both of them were sure enough not to have heard it before, even Maria was intrigued herself, for she was the one who arranged everything, the food, the menus, the place beside the quiet waters of the lake, everything but the music. She just asked them to play any song native to their land that conveyed a strong sense of romance and loving devotion of lovers, her requests were that vague, but now, as the music made its way to their hearts, she was sure enough to know the song. The music was consisted of the flute, the violins, and the dramatic but pleasantly wonderful voice of a soprano. The song started with this serene and calm solo with the flute, but as the music progressed, the violins gradually made their way to the very heart of the piece and the soprano followed, starting with the words “Adeus se... Adeus se...”. The song continued on, and as the flute played, the violins began overpowering it, and with each new note the flute disappears, as the soprano once again enters with the words “O Fenomeno, il amo...” repeated with each repetition higher and heavier than the other. As the song reached its dramatic climax, where the flute reenters and the violins clash cords with the flute, and the soprano sings an even higher tone and this time with more emotion, so strong was the impact that an audience would’ve torn their clothes with grief because of the sadness of the song, Maria unconsciously started humming after the song, continuing it with the very same tempo and with unusual precision and great emotion that she momentarily had to close her eyes for fear of letting go of it all at once. She suddenly but gradually sang the song as the soprano did, with the very words and the perfect enunciation, to the surprise of everybody even herself because she knew perfectly well that though she might’ve learned some basic Brazilian, she was not that good to even know how to pronounce and understand the very words that she was now singing, for they were of an early sort of Brazilian, native only to the ancestors of the dwellers of the shores of the Iguaçu. As she went on singing, she found that tears now welled up in her eyes, she did not know the reason but she felt a painful tearing ache in her heart, an ache that can only be caused by broken love. She knew there was something happening to her, a sudden changing of emotion and heart, a sudden hatred to the world and a strangely strong bond of forceful yet beautiful love, right there and then, but she ignored the fact of the change, instead of brushing it off, she found herself liking it, and loving every single moment it rushed past her and enter her being. Tears had welled up in John’s eyes as well, and he was holding her hands tight, a sign that he wouldn’t let her go, come what may...



Spain, 1994

As the noon came closing in, and the sun at its hottest in the sky, a rugged-looking jeep parked right outside the house of Senor Teodor de la Vega. The strong humming of the engine died down as a man with quite a fine built and possessed an air of strong charisma yet humble in a way that mixed the two extremes perfectly, dressed in a flesh short-sleeved polo shirt with the first two buttons undone and pants of a deep dark blue, almost black, with white stripes clawing right on the thigh area. A servant went out from inside the house to see who the visitor was and quickly bowed, seeing that this one was a familiar guest from the very childhood of Maria. “Senorito Carlos Jose, glad to see that you have decided to at last come and visit us“, cried the servant.
The man, having been acknowledged by the servant smiled hastily and asked, “Is Senor Teodor in today?”
“Yes, I think he already knew you were coming, he had instructed quite a feast of a lunch today. We have started just now, I believe you are expected?”
“No, I believe Senor Teodor has not an idea that I was coming...”
“Well then, lets get you inside and I will announce your arrival to the familia!”, and with that, the servant shuffled back inside and motioned for Carlos to do so too.
As the guest entered the door of the house, the servant noticed a smile, sly and certainly up to no good as she had known right from when he was young and she was chasing both him and Maria around, playing round his lips...
The storm has started brewing...

(End of Chapter Five)