Page 5 of Sins & Paradise
I was wrong before.
This place is going to be at least three times the size of the last compound.
Hardwood floors span the entire main area, and there are at least a dozen different rooms on the bottom floor alone. There's one large door all the way at the other end of the compound. I walk over and open it up. It's empty, but the weight of the significance is heavy.
I look up and see a large stained glass window with our club seal.
Finally, I'm at home. Church always puts me at ease.
Two
Angela
"Saca el pan."Magda gestures to the back, but I don’t know what she’s talking about.
I stare at her, trying to decipher the words coming out of her mouth, but I'm not getting anything. It feels like an empty well in my head, and she's just throwing things inside.
She glares at me and presses her lips into a tight line before she gestures to the back again, this time much more agitated.
"Saca el pan de ahí!" She says with a bit more force in her tone.
I turn to look in the direction that she's gesturing, but I'm still not sure what she wants me to do.
When I disembarked from the cruise ship, I didn't even know I was in Puerto Rico until I started seeing all the flags and colorful houses around. I thought for a while that I was in Florida, which would've made things both easier and harder for me.
If I were still in Florida, there was a great chance that Miguel would be able to find me and bring me back. But being in Puerto Rico was proving to be nearly impossible, especially since I didn't speak Spanish. I took a few years of it in high school, but aside from "Hola" and"Necesita el baño," I didn't know much.
To make matters worse, the only place I was able to get a job was at a bakery with a woman who spoke very little English.
Magda grabs my arm and pulls me in the direction of the kitchen before stopping in front of the oven. She places two oven mitts in my hands and nearly shoves me in the direction of the oven.
"Saca. El. Pan." She says each word as if it's its own sentence.
Pan?Oh! The bread! Quickly, I log what she's saying to me in my mind and reach into the oven to pluck out the freshly baked bread that must be done.
Magda sighs and shakes her head."¿Qué se me ocurrió contratarte a ti?"
I didn't know what she said, but I'm sure it had something to do with her realizing how big of a mistake she made when she hired me.
I begged for this job, tried my best to explain to her that I'd do whatever she needed me to do in order to get it. She took pity on me, but I was sure her streak of generosity would come to an end fairly soon.
I arranged the bread on the tray and brought it to the front so Magda could put it in the display before I went back to the daily chores she had me doing.
Cleaning was something I was good at. It didn't bother me when I had to sweep up or wash down the bathrooms. After all, I spent years in a school run by nuns. Everything had to be spic and span for them. At least here, I was getting paid for what I was doing.
The door to the bakery opened up, and I froze in place, not turning to see who it was, just waiting.
Quickly I drop the mop and rush back to the kitchen to wait for the assumed threat to pass.
I keep waiting for Miguel or my father and brother to walk through the door. It doesn't matter that they have no idea where I've run off to or that I wouldn't dare reach out to any of them. It feels as if they are superhuman and they'll be able to find me even on this bustling island.
"Ah! Coca!..." I hear Magda greeting someone, and when they both start speaking in Spanish, my body relaxes a bit.
Slowly, I turn in the direction of the front of the store, having to crane my neck to look through the swinging doors to see who is up front.
A beautiful dark-skinned woman with curly hair flowing down her back is speaking with Magda. They look like they're friends. Something about the woman's smile makes me want to smile in return, but for the life of me, I can't force my face to make the expression. I still feel broken inside. Even though it's been weeks since Miguel ripped my innocence away from me, it still feels like he has a hold over me.
Ignoring the interaction between the woman and my boss, I turn back to the oven to get the remainder of the bread out before Magda has a chance to ask about it. I place them on the display sheets and move it to the side so she can grab when she comes to the back.