fragrance mixed with the aroma of damp earth. She nodded and watched her as she laid out her
petate
, on which she sat back on her heels. From a sack she took out
yuca
and, after a moment, she handed half of it to Adriana. They ate in silence until Juana spoke.
âYou will make a good
compañera
.â
âWhy do you say that?â
âBecause I feel it here.â
Juana tapped her chest and smiled at Adriana, who wrestled with a flood of emotion. She stared at Juana, both hoping and fearing that she would say more, but Juana kept quiet, and after a while she rolled off her heels, reclined on her side and appeared to fall asleep.
Adriana tried to sleep, but she was so tired that she could not. Every time she began to drift off, a jerking muscle violently yanked her back. Not even the lilting sound of murmuring cicadas and chirping crickets that filled the jungleâs darkness could put her to sleep. Finally, she decided to concentrate on the shadows cast by moonlight, hoping that this would help her relax.
She stared at a large spot, a lagoon of light, not far from where she lay. It shimmered like a mirror, reflecting different patterns against a tree trunk. As fronds and vines moved in the breeze, Adriana thoughtshe made out strange forms: a serpent wrapping itself around a tree; an enormous insect swooping over her, spreading its wings, fluttering and opening them, then closing in on itself; a creature with a pointed snout, sniffing, rummaging in the gloom.
Despite the heat Adriana shuddered. So she clamped her eyes shut and drew the top of the bag over her head, but the images persisted behind her eyelids. That bright jungle mirror seemed to reach out to her. She concentrated, trying to dispel its lure. After a while she was relieved when the reflections began to fade. Her mind calmed, drifted.
She remembered another mirror; she was eighteen years old. She was in the bathroom of the Ortiz home, naked and contemplating her body. Someone was knocking at the door, telling her to hurry. She continued staring at her reflection, ignoring the pleading. She looked at herself. No longer a child, she had grown tall, thin but shapely. Her skin was the color of coffee with cream, lighter in some places, darker in others, especially along the inner part of her thighs and the cleavage between her breasts. She stared at the nipples, which stood out taut, nearly black.
Her eyes shifted to the side and focused on the scar on her arm; she touched it carefully, softly, nearly expecting to feel the old pain. It was difficult for her to forget the anguish, and often she imagined that the scar was hurting her all over again. She closed her eyes to get rid of the sensation. When she opened them again, she looked below her waist, stopping to examine the mound of thick hair between her legs, and from there down to her knees, calves and feet.
With her eyes riveted on the mirror, Adriana gazed upward to her neck and face. There she saw a broad forehead, a straight, short nose, slightly bulbous at its tip. Beneath it were her full, wide lips, outlined by a dark brown hue tinged with purple. She lifted her hands to her hair, feeling its tight curls, its thickness. She then looked into her eyes, which peered back at her. They were almond-shaped with short, curled lashes; their pupils were dark brown, flecked with green.
The knocking became pounding, but Adriana refused to move. She was spellbound by the sensations welling up inside and outside of her body. Her skin and hair felt connected to desires she sensed in her mind, in her stomach, on her breasts, in the intimacy between her thighs. Soon the fists were hammering on the door with such force that she felt the vibrations on her shoulders. Suddenly, the door broke down, and something came at her, forcing her to run, to sprint through the jungle, naked and vulnerable. Her breath caught in her throat; she began to choke because her lungs had run out of air. Something was behind
petate
, on which she sat back on her heels. From a sack she took out
yuca
and, after a moment, she handed half of it to Adriana. They ate in silence until Juana spoke.
âYou will make a good
compañera
.â
âWhy do you say that?â
âBecause I feel it here.â
Juana tapped her chest and smiled at Adriana, who wrestled with a flood of emotion. She stared at Juana, both hoping and fearing that she would say more, but Juana kept quiet, and after a while she rolled off her heels, reclined on her side and appeared to fall asleep.
Adriana tried to sleep, but she was so tired that she could not. Every time she began to drift off, a jerking muscle violently yanked her back. Not even the lilting sound of murmuring cicadas and chirping crickets that filled the jungleâs darkness could put her to sleep. Finally, she decided to concentrate on the shadows cast by moonlight, hoping that this would help her relax.
She stared at a large spot, a lagoon of light, not far from where she lay. It shimmered like a mirror, reflecting different patterns against a tree trunk. As fronds and vines moved in the breeze, Adriana thoughtshe made out strange forms: a serpent wrapping itself around a tree; an enormous insect swooping over her, spreading its wings, fluttering and opening them, then closing in on itself; a creature with a pointed snout, sniffing, rummaging in the gloom.
Despite the heat Adriana shuddered. So she clamped her eyes shut and drew the top of the bag over her head, but the images persisted behind her eyelids. That bright jungle mirror seemed to reach out to her. She concentrated, trying to dispel its lure. After a while she was relieved when the reflections began to fade. Her mind calmed, drifted.
She remembered another mirror; she was eighteen years old. She was in the bathroom of the Ortiz home, naked and contemplating her body. Someone was knocking at the door, telling her to hurry. She continued staring at her reflection, ignoring the pleading. She looked at herself. No longer a child, she had grown tall, thin but shapely. Her skin was the color of coffee with cream, lighter in some places, darker in others, especially along the inner part of her thighs and the cleavage between her breasts. She stared at the nipples, which stood out taut, nearly black.
Her eyes shifted to the side and focused on the scar on her arm; she touched it carefully, softly, nearly expecting to feel the old pain. It was difficult for her to forget the anguish, and often she imagined that the scar was hurting her all over again. She closed her eyes to get rid of the sensation. When she opened them again, she looked below her waist, stopping to examine the mound of thick hair between her legs, and from there down to her knees, calves and feet.
With her eyes riveted on the mirror, Adriana gazed upward to her neck and face. There she saw a broad forehead, a straight, short nose, slightly bulbous at its tip. Beneath it were her full, wide lips, outlined by a dark brown hue tinged with purple. She lifted her hands to her hair, feeling its tight curls, its thickness. She then looked into her eyes, which peered back at her. They were almond-shaped with short, curled lashes; their pupils were dark brown, flecked with green.
The knocking became pounding, but Adriana refused to move. She was spellbound by the sensations welling up inside and outside of her body. Her skin and hair felt connected to desires she sensed in her mind, in her stomach, on her breasts, in the intimacy between her thighs. Soon the fists were hammering on the door with such force that she felt the vibrations on her shoulders. Suddenly, the door broke down, and something came at her, forcing her to run, to sprint through the jungle, naked and vulnerable. Her breath caught in her throat; she began to choke because her lungs had run out of air. Something was behind
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