The next morning, a knock came on Vanessa's door. Groaning, she crawled out of bed, walked across the room, and opened the door a crack. It was Maria.
"There is breakfast downstairs, and fresh coffee," Maria announced brightly. "Come down, before it gets cold."
How could she be so cheerful this early? Vanessa wondered. But as she left the door and picked up her wristwatch from the dresser, she saw that it was nearly 9:30. She felt like she had just fallen asleep an hour ago.
Still, the allure of coffee was enough. "All right, I'll be down in a minute," she told Maria. Maria smiled brightly as she continued down the hall, and Vanessa closed the door after her. She changed clothes sluggishly, grabbing a pair of jeans and a tank top that she had placed in the dresser the night before. Then she brushed out her long, reddish-blond hair, and pulled it back in a ponytail with an elastic hair-tie.
Before leaving the room, Vanessa walked over to the window and opened the shutters. She gasped at the beauty before her. From high atop the hill, she could see for miles. A small town stood only a few miles away, but beyond that was vast countryside. A tall mountain range lined the horizon, and the sun shone brightly in the east.
Vanessa had not realized that Mexico could be so beautiful. She had been reluctant, in fact, to go except that it might help her career. And she had never been one for hot weather and sandy beaches. But in this seemingly remote part of the country, Vanessa was starting to think that maybe this trip hadn't been so worthless after all.
At the bottom of the stairs, Vanessa was met by the wafting, familiar scent of eggs and pork. Her mouth began to salivate, and she followed the fragrance until she came to a small breakfast nook by the kitchen. A round table was set with mountains of food, from bread muffins, oranges, and grapefruit, to a heaping pile of bacon strips and a plate of pork steaks as big as her hand. There were two pitchers, one filled with orange juice and one with milk.
"I hope you are hungry," she heard Maria call from the kitchen. "I tried to make an American breakfast. I made omelets, too."
Vanessa's breakfasts usually consisted of a bagel and a cup of coffee, or maybe some cereal with milk if she had the time. "It looks delicious! Although, I don't think I can eat all of this . . ."
Maria turned from the stove, holding a plate with a large, fluffy omelet. "Oh, well, eat what you like. Would you care for some coffee?"
"That would be great," Vanessa replied, as Maria set the omelet down on the table for her. Vanessa sat down in front of the plate, and immediately began to dig in, taking a little bit from each plate, although she had to cut one of the pork steaks in half. All of it was delicious, and Vanessa felt like her stomach was going to explode, even though half of the food was still on her plate. She sipped on the coffee that Maria had set in front of her, and her mouth puckered at its bitter taste. When Maria wasn't looking, she poured some of the milk from the pitcher into the strong coffee.
"It is so nice to be able to cook for someone again," Maria said, sitting down with Vanessa at the table, holding her own cup of coffee. "Years ago, we used to have quite a few visitors to Los Veritas. But now, everyone wants to go to the beaches. Ah, well, that is how it is."
"What does that mean?" Vanessa asked. "Los Veritas?"
"City of truth," Maria replied. "Many, many years ago, as the legend goes, a traveler came to this small village. He was weary and near death, when he came upon a well. The people of the village told him to drink, but be wary, for the well had mysterious power that would cause any man who drinks from it to tell nothing but the truth. So the traveler did so, and found that his thirst was satisfied, but suddenly he felt a great desire to speak to a priest. When the priest came to him, the man confessed all of his sins, every one that he had committed throughout his life. After the priest had granted him redemption, the traveler was in awe at what he had just done. He left the village, but not until he swore an oath before God, never to tell another soul about the well.
"Not a day after he left the village, the man came upon another traveler, who was weak and in need of water. The traveler took pity on the man, and broke his vow, telling the traveler where he could find the village with the well. The second traveler followed his advice, and he found the village and drank from the well. What the first traveler did not know, however, was that the man was really a Spanish soldier, and when he drank from the well, the soldier was also awed by its powers. The Spaniard was overcome with greed, and he sent for his fellow soldiers, who came in by the hundreds, and massacred the people of the village, taking it and the well for their own. But, as soon as the deed was done, the well crumbled to the ground, and its powers were no more."
Vanessa was captivated by Maria's story, hanging on her every word. "That's so sad," she whispered.
Maria smiled, and shrugged. "Well, it is only a legend. My grandmother used to tell it to me when I was a little girl, as her grandmother told her." With that, Maria stood up from the table, and began to clear off the plates. "Well, I shall have to take this food down to the gas station. I'm sure Johnny and the others will enjoy it. Paulo's dog loves my pork steaks."
Vanessa finished off her coffee, and helped Maria to clear the table, even assisted her in wrapping the leftover food. "Is it far to town?" Vanessa asked.
"No, not far," Maria replied. "Once you get down the hill, it's about a five minute drive. Would you like me to give you a ride?"
"Oh, if you could just drop me off at the edge of town, I can walk the rest of the way."
"Well, if you insist. What are you looking for in town?"
Vanessa smiled. "I think I'm going to do a little shopping."
Los Veritas was a lost town, short of modern technology, a place where time had stopped. Vanessa wandered the streets in amazement, gazing around at the little shops and old theaters, and the variety of merchants with booths set up like the old marketplaces.
Young children played and kicked around soccer balls in the streets, with no danger of being hit by cars. In fact, there were little to no cars at all. The few cars Vanessa did see were old, beaten up cars from the sixties, and she even saw an American '56 Chevy. But they were all parked at the side of the road, their drivers walking around on foot. Vanessa felt like she had gone back in time. It was surreal.
Vanessa stopped at one of the merchant booths, eying a beautiful set of handmade scarves and shawls. She sifted through one of the piles, and her eyes widened at the sight of a gorgeous red shawl, decorated with silk tassels. It was made of the softest material, and Vanessa indulged by lifting the fabric to her cheek.
"I guess the stereotype that American women love to shop is true," came a deep voice, and Vanessa whirled around, quickly lowering the shawl. There stood Johnny, smiling at her, and Vanessa felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. He looked handsome as ever, still wearing his white cowboy hat, now in a deep blue button-down shirt and a pair of khaki slacks.
"Oh, well, I just thought I'd come and check out the town," Vanessa only half-lied. "You know, as long as I'm stuck here."
Johnny chuckled, moving in closer, and causing Vanessa's heart to quicken its already erratic pace. "You're stuck, huh? Doesn't sound like you're too happy about it."
Vanessa laughed breathily. "Well, I'm warming up to it. It's a lovely town, and Maria has been so nice, and I just found this beautiful shawl. Maybe my luck is changing, after all." With that, she turned away from him to talk to the vender. "How much?" she asked, indicating the shawl.
"Twenty pesos," the vender replied. Vanessa began to reach into her purse, but Johnny stopped her with a hand on her arm.
"No, no," Johnny protested, directing his gaze towards the vender. "Siete pesos."
The vender and Johnny argued back and forth, as Vanessa waited in the wings, confused. They were speaking in Spanish, but Vanessa was able to make out a bit of the quarrel. The vender offered seventeen, but Johnny demanded nine. Then the vender went down to fifteen, and Johnny insisted upon eleven. Finally, the merchant agreed on eleven pesos. Vanessa paid him the money, and shrugged in apology to the cross salesman.
"How do you do that?" Vanessa asked him, as they stepped away from the booth. "I've never been good at haggling."
"Merchants like to trick foreign women out of their money," Johnny replied. "Especially American woman. He was asking for much more than the shawl was worth."
"I don't know," Vanessa said, looking down at the shawl draped over her arm. "I would be willing to pay twenty pesos for such good workmanship as this."
"Trust me," Johnny insisted.
Vanessa shrugged. "Well, thank you." She paused thoughtfully, looking down at the shawl. Finally, in a bold move for her, she looked up at Johnny and said, "Could you help me do a little grocery shopping?"
Johnny grinned. "Sure. There is a grocery just down the next street."
They walked down the road, side by side, and Vanessa inwardly squealed with delight. Having him so close to her made her feel extraordinary, and she realized that she hadn't felt this way about a guy since high school. Maybe it was just a stupid crush, but she was enjoying it while it lasted.
When they came to the grocery, Johnny opened the door for her, and Vanessa walked inside. It was a very small store, and the shelves were haphazardly organized. Vanessa told Johnny what she was looking for, and helped point her in the right direction.
As they stood in front a shelf with canned fruits and vegetables, Vanessa held a can of peaches, and Johnny translated the label for her.
Suddenly, a female voice called his name, and Johnny turned his head. Vanessa followed suit, and her heart jumped in her throat at the sight of a lovely woman. Her skin was a golden brown, her hair deep auburn, and she had a meticulously perfect body that she showed off with a low cut halter dress, her full breasts peeking out of the top.
