“Amerel drew women young and old. His rivals were eliminated once he turned his eye upon a conquest. Infuriated men of all ages sought his blood. A father tried to kill him; three brothers arrived at his house to confront him and beat a servant by mistake; the jilted fiancé of one of Amerel's conquests left the area in utter devastation. He would have been killed, except that Amerel never traveled without his hired Samoan guard.
“One night, months into her engagement, after Elena had become accustomed to the notion of a future and dared give her heart and soul to believe its truth, and her dress was halfmade for the wedding, she was invited to the rival plantation of Hacienda Morales. She suspected the invitation to be a request for a secret cure.
“Only years later did she learn that the Samoan conspired with her younger sister, Alexa, to expose the man Amerel truly was. Elena's cooking had brought unshed tears to the Samoan's eyes for the mother he'd lost in childhood. And though he protected Amerel daily, the Samoan hated his master for taking the virginity of his youngest sister. Alexa as well knew of the allure of Amerel, nearly to her own heartbreak, and she vowed to save her sister from a future of misery.”
Markus paused. “Oh, did I say that Amerel had stopped eating the recipes that Elena prepared?”
“No. Why did he do that?”
“Amerel had a portion of good in him, as all men do. And when that goodness was tapped into, he saw himself and all that he had done. That's what Elena's recipes did to him. Amerel didn't want to feel those things for long.”
“Interesting. I've known a few people like that,” Julia said with humor. But then she realized how she avoided feeling certain things, ignored certain truths about herself. It was as if the hacienda were her own Elena recipe, spotlighting the way she'd run from seeking her purpose in life, fleeing from anything that didn't look safe.
Markus took up his tale again. “Now Elena had never been to Hacienda Morales. When she arrived, she was asked to meet the mistress of the house in the gardens. While waiting, she saw Amerel walking in the moonlight on the arm of an older woman. Their intimacy was evident even from a distance. As they approached, Amerel was startled to see Elena standing there. The older woman found amusement in Elena's distress.”
“Oh no,” Julia whispered, surprised to feel the pain she'd known when Nathan ended their relationship.
“Are you okay?” Markus asked.
Julia nodded. “What did Elena do?”
“Elena knew Amerel would make some ridiculous excuse that she was supposed to believe. Perhaps that this woman was his aunt or the mother of his childhood friend. He opened his mouth to deliver what she must accept to remain his future.
“She placed her hands over her ears. âDo not say it to me.'
“He stood very still. âWhat a child,' he said and turned back to the older woman.
“Elena walked the kilometers home as a storm rose upon the islands. At the midnight hour, the hacienda gateman was surprised to see Elena come through the misty darkness, and without greeting him as she always did. She continued forward like a lost soul. The gateman wondered if he'd really seen her until he saw her footprints marked on the wet driveway.
“Elena went to the kitchen and cooked the nightly warm milk with cinnamon, nutmeg, and slivers of chocolate for herself and her father. The kitchen maid retrieved a steaming mug for the don of the house and returned to find Elena gone and her cocoa untouched. Later the maid told of seeing Elena standing in the downpour on the courtyard stones, face up to accept the slap of the rain, arms out in resignation. âHow could You allow this? How could You forget me like this?' The maid was afraid and did not stop Elena's angry words to God.”
Julia thought again of the months after she and Nathan broke up. Everyone went through heartache. Everybody had times when they had to start over. Every person alive experienced pain. So why couldn't she rise back up? It had frustrated and taken her into a deeper depression, until her work suffered and she'd had to find a roommate to help pay the bills. Her mother had wanted Julia to move home, and for a time she did. For two years, she'd floundered along.
Markus's deep voice pulled her from her past back to Elena's. “The storm did not quiet by the next morning, and it was discovered that Elena was gone. Word spread quickly of Amerel's betrayal and Elena's disappearance. On the second day, villagers from near and far came to search the hacienda for her. They braved the storm for several days until at last it faded. For one week, the grounds were covered in hordes of people who searched and trampled every section of land. Flickering candles filled the cathedral and prayer vigils were established.
“Upon hearing of his brother's betrayal, Cortinez quickly joined the search, haggard from his travels back from the expedition in Northern Luzon. A few interrogated Amerel as to his whereabouts the night and morning of the storm. But the rich doña gave him an alibi for the entire night.
“Elena's footsteps were difficult to trace, but trackers were confident that they'd found her path from the back porch through the gardens to the farthest section of the hacienda that ended at a cliff above the sea.
“Elena's family was surprised at the level of distress caused by her disappearance. They'd never guessed the far reach of their daughter's healing cuisine. Tears and wails filled the courtyards, and there was the scent of foods cooked on small ovens on the lawns as search parties were sent out through the days and nights.
“While Amerel disappeared to his mother's clan house in Mindanao, no one searched for Elena more than Cortinez. He collapsed each night in his quest for her, several nights not returning at all.
“Then it was discovered that Cortinez had not been seen for three days. The search became twofold, and when his footsteps were also tracked to the cliff above the sea, the searchers became fearful, making the sign of the cross and holding their amulets lest they be driven to the rocks below themselves.
“It was said that a curse had come to the hacienda. The candles were lit again, not as much for the poor soul of Cortinez, but for a plague of ailments that swept those who did not search for them. Most of the candles burned for Elena.
“The priest was kept up for days with confessions. A good-hearted man, he prayed for Elena, the young girl he'd always cherished, not just for the famous Elena the Cook. He reminded his flock with confidence, âGod Almighty can save them still.'
“A month later, early in the morning, Elena's parents woke to noise downstairs. Her father crept downstairs to discover the intruder, and her mother, too afraid to remain upstairs alone, followed behind, feeling terror with every step.
“âWhat if it is the Devil coming to take us?'
Her father held a gun and mother her rosary as they descended the stairs. They followed the noise until they stopped outside the kitchen, hearing pots and pans clatter inside.
“âMy God!' Elena's mother gasped as they opened the door.
“Her father nearly dropped the gun.
“There stood Elena in the midst of cooking. And on a chair sat Cortinez.
“Elena's mother grasped her father's arm. âAre they ghosts?'
“âI do not know.'
“Elena had the quality of a ghost. Beneath her usual apron, her dress was torn and soiled, her hair wild and tumbling over her shoulders as her father had never seen it before. Her face was pale, and when she looked up, she smiled such an expression of peace that it took both her parents aback. The cooking had put a thin misty smoke throughout the kitchen. Cortinez turned in his chair, where he had been watching Elena. His unshaven face and angelic presence confirmed that they were both dead and now ghouls in the house.
“âMother, Father,' Elena said with joy as she wiped her hands on her apron and rushed to embrace them. Even after feeling the touch of her, the solidity of her being, her parents still were unsure whether or not she was a specter returned to haunt the house.
“Her father studied her movements as she moved back to stir something on the stove. The table was covered with oysters, prawns, cut vegetables, chicken, a bag of rice, and spices of many colors and fragrances. âWhere have you been?'
“âI do not know,' Elena said. Her features had not changed, but a radiance filled her face that made her beautiful. âCortinez found me.'
“Elena's mother threw her hands into the air and burst into tears. âThis makes no sense at all.'
“Elena explained that she didn't know she was gone so long, saying that it was as if she'd died or lived in a dream. Then Cortinez came, and he was in that dream with her. Not until they returned from the cove did they know they were actually alive.
“Her mother paused in her tears to stare at Elena incredulously, then covered her hands and wailed again.
“Then Cortinez cleared his throat and said, âI searched for days, as did everyone. But I believed that my love would make Elena live. I went again to the cliff where all believed she had fallen and been taken by the sea. I climbed down and found a piece of her dress, but I continued to believe. My words were to God, the only God of truth and love, of creation and miracle, of all things good and of holy beauty. To Him I bravely spoke that I would believe until Elena was found alive. I searched down the cliff and on the rocks below. I searched a small beach of black and white sands that was secluded and deep enough to remain even in high tide. I explored until I could not walk another step, and there fell asleep. When I awoke, Elena was there by the sea, picking flowers from a vine that grew up the cliff side. She hadn't seen me yet.'
“âIt was this flower,' Elena said. From the cooking table she lifted a soft pink blossom. It looked like a tiny orchid with darker pink spots and a yellow center
.
“âIt is from the cove,' she said, holding it tenderly. She then plucked it in half, bringing a gasp to the lips of the others, though none were sure why it seemed such a travesty. Elena smiled and dropped the two halves into a large batter. She took several other blossoms and did the same; each time there was a sharp pain within each of them when Elena tore the delicate blossom in half. They were silent as they watched Elena, who was beautiful in an indefinable way, as she stirred the bowl with a smile on her lips.
“At last her father asked Cortinez. âAnd what happened when Elena saw you?'
“âShe came to me as if waiting for me. And we stayed there together. I do not remember sleeping or eating, only walking the beach, swimming in the sea, picking the flowers, gathering oysters, and digging for clams. I speared fish and a squid. It could have been one day or weeks perhaps, but none of our catch grew old. It was always as fresh as the day we caught it. We swam and walked. But, sir, we were innocent of all impropriety. There was no thought of anything else or anyone else or anyplace else. We were like children, and even now I can't understand it. I know how it must sound. But at the times, we thought nothing of it all. It was . . . well, it was all we knew. Then one day Elena remembered the village priest and thought she heard him calling to her. So we climbed the cliff. And suddenly we began to remember as we found the path back to the hacienda house.'
“Her father rubbed his head, closed his eyes, and said, âI must get the priest.'
“Elena cooked through the day and all the next night. She seemed in a dream, and the many villagers who came to see the truth of her and Cortinez's resurrection were too entranced to interrupt her creation. Cortinez watched, made coffee, and slept, but stayed always in the kitchen near Elena. She would allow no one to help her in the cooking. The priest arrived and prayed over the couple, thanked God for returning them, and gave the only explanation possible, âGod's ways are not our own.'
“That evening a multitude gathered, all drawn there as they had been when Elena disappeared and yet not knowing how to leave. And then Elena was at the doorway, peering into the dusk where dozens and dozens of people sat on benches or around tables, some playing games, others talking with babies in their arms.
“They went to silence as they saw her there, hair still wild and the apron now stained with spices.
“âIt is time to eat,' she announced.
“Those who took a plate of Elena's paella were said to have become nearly drunk with a joy none had known before. Some later believed it was simply the relief that the two young people were alive, but most agreed that it was Elena's cooking. The batter into which she had dropped the orchid was made into a huge beautiful cake that was beyond description.
“The drunkenness of joy found in the paella and cake infected them all. They laughed and cried. Several guitarists began playing in the yard, and even the old women danced as they hadn't in decades. Cortinez walked among them, observing and smiling. He would touch the shoulders of those eating on the ground and kneel beside the children, whispering things that brought their laughter.
“Two long-held grudges were resolved that night. One was between a man and woman who had loved each other in their youth. A misunderstanding separated them for forty years. That night they reunited and were married the following week. The other was between a woman and her daughter. The daughter had married against her mother's wishes, severing their bond. When her husband deserted her and her child, the daughter remained resolute in her independence. Mother and daughter would see one another at the market and never speak. The older woman stared at her granddaughter as she grew into a young child. But they had never touched or held one another in all the days of the child's life. Nothing dramatic closed the rift that night. After eating the paella, they simply walked from their separate groups of friends and family members and embraced without words or actions. The grand-daughter jumped into her grandmother's arms as if it were the most usual habit in the world.