The Sacred Beasts (41 page)

THE FOUR WOMEN were together, watching the parade as it thundered
past them: obscene gigantes; revolving genitals and animals; outrageous angels
and hairy, mincing devils in lacey drapes; flowers blooming from religious
icons; musical instruments with noses and tails; chimera all; forms of life
more devious than deviant; delicate falsehoods followed by crashing truths;
careening, brimming, there, life—for what else could it be?—unimaginable until
that very moment; the essence of humanity; the strength; the curse; the love;
the sex; the farrago polymorphous-perverse; now dancing; now rolling on skates;
now strutting, then cheering; one mutable multifarious profanity.

Bonobo Day USA, Ruth thought. Then she was taken by a wave of
repressed feeling. It’s still unfinished, she thought. Have I been holding onto
her without knowing? It was a moment of pure clarity, peace in the midst of
laughter and pride. She stared and stared at the queen of the festivity, the
overwhelming beauty, the only one to whom this beast will bow its tangled mane.
The goddess. Sylvie looked proud and that, too, made her more beautiful. Have I
been holding her, too? Ruth wondered. Have I? Leave me, Sylvie! Leave me now
when the world is so full of light, so full of dreams and creation and peace
and what is best in us. Leave me when I love everything as much as I love you.
Leave me now. It is only right for you. Now, in the midst of the color and art
and beasty wonder of it and all that I love as I love you. My folly is clear: I
could not separate you from the beauty of the world, after all. You became my
goddess, and you must leave, for I am all-too-mortal. Sylvie suddenly looked
directly at Ruth, seeing the serious and pained look on her face.

How can you grieve even now? Sylvie thought in shock and anger.
How dare you?

Ruth pressed her hands together as though in prayer and lowered
her head over them, both bending toward Sylvie. Sylvie had seen the gesture
before from a Buddhist and knew that it meant I worship you. Then, Ruth slowly
raised her head and opened her hands until they gestured toward the
all-encompassing festivity, life, the future.

I worship you and I release you, Sylvie thought. That’s what she
said. How like her. How very like her to end it like that. If an animal passed
her by in one of her wildernesses, stopped and looked at her; she would love it
so easily, as easily as she loved me. And, that is how she would say goodbye.
How many times, to how many women, to how many other creatures, has she said
this? I worship you and I release you. Now I know how I will remember her as a
lover: the most romantic. They both felt a tug in their hearts. Sylvie took
Alex by the arm and said, “Take me to Ibiza! Make love to me in the surf.”

“You want to leave them? The city?”

“We can have fun in a few other places first, if you like. But,
let’s get lost.” She smiled her invitation.

“OK, we’ll get lost together. Will they mind?”

“Oh, no. They want to get lost together, too.”

“On to Ibiza! After some very serious carousing, drinking and
loving, of course.”

“Of course!”

They walked away from Ruth and Monserrat without a care, arm in
arm. They were very young, and they could still leave a life behind them that
easily.

RUTH AND MONSERRAT were alone together in the living room, having
coffee after a day and night of celebration. It was late and they felt very
calm and content. “After all that outrageous noise and pleasure, it’s strange
that peace follows so readily. It always surprises me,” Monserrat said.

“I know. It follows by a twisting animal logic that I’ve studied
all my life, yet it still surprises me, too.”

“When did they leave us?”

“In the middle, in the midst, in medias res, where everything
happens, where the real life is lived,” Ruth said and kissed Monserrat.

“And now, we’re in the middle of it all, alone. What a luxury in a
house like this! I love it. We can make love on this sofa if we want to.”

“Shall we? Or is it too great a luxury?”

“How curious. I’m one of the richest women in Spain, one of the
happiest, yet I live in a giant house where I can’t even . . .” She blushed and
her voice trailed off.

“Get laid on your own living room sofa?”

“Yes! I of all people should be free to command it.”

“Command me. I’ll do it.” They kissed and began to touch one
another.

“I’ve wanted it all day. How can you think of anything else on
such a day?”

“Me, too. It was the elephant in the room and there wasn’t
supposed to be a room.” Ruth began to take Monserrat’s blouse off.

“Ah, slowly, my love,” Monserrat whispered and Ruth smiled,
kissing the skin beneath the cloth.

At that moment, Monserrat’s cell phone rang. “Ignore it,” Ruth
said, and then she felt Monserrat’s muscles tense.

The music from the cell phone played on and on. “Oh, no . . .”
Monserrat whispered.

Something has happened, Ruth thought. Oh, not now . . .

“Hello?” Monserrat answered and was silent for a long time,
listening carefully. Her face registered shock. “Oh-god, oh-god,” she
whispered. She looked up to Ruth. “It’s Pilar!”

Oh, not now, Ruth thought. Someone is dead or in jail or gone
crazy.

Monserrat completely focused on what was being said and slowly
began to ask questions. “How many? . . . Eighteen!”

Eighteen dead or in jail or gone crazy, Ruth thought.

“Are you sure you haven’t been followed?” Monserrat continued.
“Yes, come here! Bring them all here! Don’t wait a moment. Come through the
Civil War entrances. Call Tamara now; she’s here and can tell you exactly where
they are and then open the doors. Make sure that no one has followed you. If
you have the slightest suspicion, take another spin through the city. The whole
city has been partying. This is the night to confuse anyone! Then come here
immediately.” (There was a pause). “Assault rifles? You have weapons then . . .
Yes, we have revolvers and rifles in the attic. They’re old, but we can get
them working. There are plenty of bullets, too, and communications equipment.”
(Another pause). “We can protect all of you here. Don’t talk more. You don’t
know what technology can do to trace you. Just come, bring all eighteen of
them!”

Ruth stood up.
“What terrorist group is attacking this house,
who are we defending, and how long do we have before the first volley of
bullets lands?”

Monserrat laughed, but cut it short. “I know that’s what it sounds
like, but that’s more or less what it is. We might be attacked by the
international Mafia, and we are protecting Pilar, Libre and eighteen Eastern
European sex slaves.”

“
What!
” Ruth shouted. “
That
is happening, in
our
house!
And we’re looking for rifles and revolvers on Gay Pride Day? This is
a movie plot!”

“Movies don’t show women protecting other women; otherwise yes,
it’s a movie. Pilar only explained a bit of it. I thought it was more important
to get them here rather than know all the particulars. Pilar still knows a lot
of gypsies, and she heard a description of a brothel on the Costa del Sol run
by the international Mafia using Eastern European prostitutes. The coast is
full of them. My building contractors hear about them all the time. You
probably saw one when you drove up the coast—an isolated house with a lot of
cars parked outside and a gaudy neon sign. She said only one young man defended
it for two hours in late afternoon, a pampered son of a wealthy crime boss. He
had nothing more than a handgun and it was in the office. She was sure of this
information; it came from a gypsy she trusted. Pilar got weapons from the
gypsies, too; they have contacts all over the criminal underground. So, she and
Libre took two assault rifles into the place and liberated all eighteen women
who were working there against their will. They got their passports, took the
money out of the safe, and grabbed all the computers, so they may have records
of Mafia criminal activity in Spain and even other parts of Europe. Libre
filmed everything, the location, the women in their cells, a cache of drugs,
license plates of all the cars and finally the two of them in disguise
threatening to give it to the police and Interpol and then release it all on
Youtube if there was any attempt at reprisal. They drugged the young man
unconscious, tied and taped him to the safe and left a DVD of the whole film
taped to his face. Then they left with the women in two vans. This all happened
this afternoon. They drove up the coast so they’ll be here, in our living room,
soon. It’s actually quite a good plan on Pilar’s part. Who will ever know who
they are and where they’re coming? So, we may never need any weapons. We just
thought it would be a good idea to have some on hand in case this situation
proves to be more complex.”

“Pilar did this as a Gay Pride Day stunt?” Ruth asked, still
astonished.

Monserrat laughed, but again cut it short. “Apparently. But, she
said she’s been planning this for some time. The brothel’s business is at
night, so it was otherwise empty in the afternoon. She got herself and them in
and out at the perfect moment.”

“Perfect!” Ruth said in wonder.

“They’ll stay here tonight and we’ll work out a plan to get them
back to their countries. We won’t tell the police or anyone else. If the
international Mafia was holding them, we must do everything on our own. The
police can be brought off easily enough in Spain, and any other business or
organization, for that matter.”

Ruth was silent but only for a moment. “So, let’s find those
revolvers and rifles!”

They were up in the attic for more than an hour. Only when they
found the revolvers and rifles did they relax. “A German luger!” Ruth
exclaimed. “This brings back my fondest memories of the Holocaust.” They fell
into one another’s arms and laughed long and hard. “This is Life, eh?” Ruth
finally said. “Raw enough for Pilar!”

“You never think that you’re growing old in this house, that
things are passing you by.”

“
No!
”

“But it’s happening with you!”

Ruth kissed Monserrat and said, “There’s no
one I’d rather defend a castle against the Mafia with, no one I‘d rather protect
sex slaves with!”

“That’s the spirit!” They laughed long and hard again. They could
hardly stop laughing.

“When this is over, we’re going to have the most magnificent sex
of our lives!” Ruth said.

“Oh, yes! That’s just what we’ll do!” Monserrat began loading one
of the rifles.

“Do you know how to shoot?”

“Yes, Spain was a dangerous place for a long time after the Civil
War. My father taught me when I was young. I was a pretty good shot, though I
never wanted to kill anything.”

“I carried a handgun when I camped alone in Patagonia. I never
wanted to kill, either.”

“If we have any time, later, these guns should be oiled.”

Loud noises suddenly came from the living room. “They’ve come!
Let’s bring some guns down but put them into another room. We don’t want to
frighten those women!”

When Ruth and Monserrat entered the living room, they were met by
what appeared to be an alternate universe: a large group of Eastern European
women wearing togas made roughly from bedspreads and drapes were coming out of
the tunnels, led by two women in war paint with assault rifles. It’s a reverse
Alice in Wonderland, Ruth thought, with all the marvels coming out, rather than
going down, the rabbit hole. Pilar and Libre had not worn masks to disguise
themselves. They had painted their faces, necks, breasts and arms in bright
shades of red, orange, yellow, purple, green and blue in abstract shapes with
black lines around each mass of color. Libre had shaved her Mohawk off and
colored her head as well, and Pilar had moussed her hair into multi-colored
radiating points. The effect was thrilling and horrifying while it completely
disguised their features.

Monserrat took one look, drew a deep breath and said, “Everyone
please sit down. Does any one of these women speak Spanish fluently?” One woman
came forward with a smile. “Please translate for me,” Monserrat said to her. “I
want you all to know that you are now in a feminist house. We are going to see
to your needs and arrange your return to your countries, perhaps as early as
tomorrow. You will stay here comfortably until then. We have your passports
back, and we will devise a plan to return you successfully to your homes. I
hope you know that you are now safe, however strange the situation might appear
to you.”

The translator smiled broadly and raised a fist. She translated
and then the other women smiled, cheered and raised their fists. “We assumed as
much,” the Spanish speaker said, “since you sent your most fearsome aborigine
warriors to rescue us. And what warriors they were! The man-dog in that house
of corruption will be terrified for the rest of his rotten criminal life!” The
women cheered again and Pilar and Libre, through their war paint, smiled and
glistened like colorful exotic beasts coming out of a rainforest, caught suddenly
in the first rays of unfettered sunlight.

Monserrat then began arrangements for their dinner, showers, rooms
and other immediate needs. Tamara had called two other women who often worked
in Monserrat’s house. They were discussing how to get eighteen T-shirts, pairs
of underwear, and shorts quickly for the women’s return. Ruth, after greeting
the women, worked in another room, oiling, cleaning and loading the revolvers
and rifles. This was finished quickly, and she then came back into the living
room and stared at the scene in fascination. It’s as though the world is
creating a new species, all the while a mass extinction is going on, Ruth
thought.

Tamara came to Monserrat and announced in dismay, “Another dozen
or so women are now coming through the Civil War entrances!”

Monserrat looked at her in astonishment. “Who can that be? Another
liberation?”

“Another stage of the revolution. I called Alex, too,” Pilar said
with a grin. “She has such a good head for technology and any kind of planning.
She was incredibly excited and said she would bring some professors of Eastern
European languages, two medical doctors in case any of the women is sick or has
become addicted, and some cinematographers. She wants to expand on the film.
But look, it’s still Gay Pride Day and the night is young!” In fact, it was
nearly two am, but everyone was too excited for fatigue. Pilar’s eyes and
floridly colored face glowed even more in the room’s soft golden light, like a
force that must always resist restraint. She and Libre clearly would not remove
their war paint until dawn. They continued standing like totemic animal spirits
protecting the house.

Alex was suddenly in the room, breathless with excitement. She
shouted in laughter when she saw the faces of Pilar and Libre. “Oh, great!
That’s just great!” she said. She hugged them both. “What a thing to have
done!” Very quickly, there were many new women’s faces in the room, radiant
with intelligence and fascination. This may be the greatest night of all in
Monserrat’s house, several of them thought. Sylvie was the last to enter. She
was very excited, and her eyes traveled rapidly over the room, then rested on
the faces of Pilar and Libre with passionate hunger. The painting has begun,
Ruth thought; she looks as wild and primitive as our warriors. We have
three
aborigines here! Sylvie’s painting of Pilar’s face should be the cover of
her book.

After some cheers and war whoops, several groups separated into
their administrative functions. Alex and the cinematographers came to Pilar and
Libre; the professors began speaking to the women; the medical doctors began
examining the women one-by-one and listening to the professors’ translations;
Monserrat and Tamara continued to plan for and meet the women’s immediate
needs. Every face in the room was radiant. At that moment, you would never know
that it was all based on a terrible criminal violation of women, Ruth thought.
Whatever trauma and fear the women might feel is beginning to heal in this
atmosphere and probably would not in any other.

Alex began interviewing Pilar and Libre immediately. Libre said a
few words and quickly left, since she had, given the wildness of their
appearances, taken the group almost directly to the house and needed to park
the vans in another part of the city. Alex instantly formulated her plan. “I
want to begin shooting you, Pilar, describing what you did and integrating your
footage of it. Then, we’ll have the women tell their stories one-by-one, after
the doctor has seen them, and we’ll do translations into other languages. The
professors will help with that and I’ll pitch in, too. The film should close
with a plea to governments worldwide to make a much stronger effort to combat
human trafficking. I’ll do that with you. Spain has been ridiculously negligent
and the U.S. puts far more effort into restricting illegal drugs, which is not
as great a human tragedy, in my opinion. We can just say it straight out. Hey,
Europe, here’s your dirty secret: abuse of women and children. We admire
Europe’s culture, history and art; but, scratch the surface, and it’s this,
it’s this,
this!
It’s what you’re seeing here!” Then Alex and the
cinematographers began to fill their screens with a truly unique human face,
and Pilar began to speak.