Innocents in Mexico

 

Chapter 11

            That night, we moved in.  At $600 a month, it was twice the price of the other apartment we liked, but it was worth it.  The rent included the three times weekly services of Theresa, who lived only two doors away.  She was gentle and Susan said she was shy, but we did not find her to be so.  Did she speak English?  No.  Good.  We needed to be encouraged to learn Spanish more quickly. 

            When we arrived at “our” house, Stucco Steve Kelsoe, the friend who had been housesitting the house, was still there.  He understood we were coming tomorrow, he told Susan, but she assured him she told him today.  She left and we talked to Steve about the house, which he designed and built for Jim, the owner, who was  visiting  Disneyland with his girlfriend.  We raved about the house and he told us more about it over a Corona.  How he reduced costs by building the sides of the house right at the property line, so the exterior walls were also the back and part of the side compound walls.  (We later grew to regret this fact.)  He had also done the planting.  He pointed out the ruins we had passed as we entered the lot and that they had preserved, he told us.  A few hours later, he ran up to check his e-mail and to send a letter, then switched off the computer.  The phone rang immediately.  It was our credit card phone provider, who had been trying to call for two hours, but the phone was busy thanks to Stucco Steve.  Robert, our agent, explained to me the intricacies of how to make phone calls so they appeared on our credit card and not Jim’s phone bill.

            Eventually, he left, and we went out to sit on our patio.  The garden was beautiful––the plants exactly the ones I would have chosen.  Bearcat moved easily and inquisitively around the courtyard, padded upstairs one stairway, around the U of the loft and back down the other stairway.  We could hear the click of his claws on the polished wood of the stairway.  He was completely peaceful for the first  time since leaving home two weeks earlier.  He knew we were home for awhile. 

            “Are you pleased with the house?”  I asked Bob as we rocked in the twin wooden rocking chairs which were the sole furniture in the sala (other than two twin beds covered with Guatemalan throws and pillows which served as twin sofas against the walls)

            “I’m pleased with everything.”  He answered. 

            Earlier, we had gone to Gigante and purchased basic necessities.  When I awakened  from a deep sleep after a late afternoon nap, the air was still hot, but the fans blew cool air down onto the bed.  Bob was below, still in the rocking chair. 

            “We missed the sunset,” I said.  “Have you eaten?”

            He had had a peanut butter sandwich.  I had an avocado and onion and cheese sandwich made on wonderful  Mexican bread.  Then I had another.  We sat up late, just  looking out at the courtyard.  Bob read the English phonebook and the San Miguel guide while I read  a book from the large box of books I’d brought along.  When we turned off the lights to go upstairs to bed, moonlight streamed down from glass bricks in the ceiling.  As we fell asleep, the dog who lived on the roof next to us joined a choir of roof dogs.  Bearcat stirred by our feet, but did not run under the bed.  We all felt contented here, relaxed and safe.

(Look at previous days’ blogs for Chapters 1-10. See Chapter 12 HERE.