Page 202 of The Moon Sister
‘Like monsters, or big long snakes?’
‘Yes, those too.’ Angelina smiled.
‘I wish I had a gift like yours. Then I could see ifAbuelawas going to make memagdalenasfor tea when I come home from school.’
‘Keep up,pequeña, and stop dawdling!’
Isadora took her eyes from a green caterpillar that was slowly mounting a stone wall and skipped down the hill towards her cousin.
In the plaza, she stood smiling sweetly as Angelina enticed her first client to have her fortune read. Whatever Angelina said to them about their future, Isadora knew that the conversation between them must remain private, so she would amuse herself by looking along the narrow alleyways that led from the plaza. Her favourite place was the café with the opening to one side that sold ice creams to passing tourists. Every different colour was there and she had tried most of them.
‘Today, I will have the green one, with the chocolate bits in it,’ she told herself, looking longingly at it. ‘Today is so hot,’ she said as she wiped her brow and peered round the counter to see if her friend Andrés was at the café today. Andrés was the son of the bad-tempered café owner. He was seven years old – a little over a year older than she was. At weekends and in the school holidays, like her, Andrés came to work with his mamá and papá, but he was always dropping plates and couldn’t place the ice cream neatly in the cornets, so his parents shooed him outside into the plaza to play.
They had met along the alleyway next to the café, both of them crouching out of the glare of the midday sun. Andrés had offered her a sip of his lemonade – which had made her mouth all fizzy. And from that moment on, she had loved him – and lemonade – with a passion.
Of course he was apayo, so when Angelina said she had already met her prince, she knew Andrés couldn’t count. He was so handsome, with his light-coloured hazel eyes and lots of curly brown hair. He was gentle and clever too – he could read and write much better than she could. Unlike otherpayos, he didn’t seem suspicious of her at all; in fact, he seemed fascinated by the fact she lived in a cave and had a cousin who could tell the future.
He looked at her sometimes like he wanted to kiss her, his lips near hers, but then he’d blush, wipe his mouth on his hand and suggest they went to kick a football around the plaza.
Isadora hadn’t told anyone about her friend. She knew her family hatedpayos, who were only good to take money from for fortunes or baskets. But Andrés was different, and she knew he liked her. He had said that one day he would marry her and they would run their own olive grove together.
‘But I don’t like olives,’ she had said stubbornly, secretly thrilled by his words.
‘We can have other things too,’ he had said quickly. ‘Anything you want.’
‘Can we have ice cream every day?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘And can we have a kitten or a baby and a bathtub?’ she’d asked as she’d kicked the football to him.
‘We will get those things and many more. When we get married, we’ll have a big fiesta in your cave like the ones you tell me of. We’ll dance together, and everyone will eat ice cream.’ He’d grinned and kicked the ball back to her.
‘You want one, señorita?’ said Andrés’ father from behind the big freezer that displayed the ice creams.
Isadora emerged from her reverie. ‘Sí, but I have no money, señor.’
‘Then go away,’ he shouted at her. ‘You are putting other customers off.’
Isadora shrugged at him and decided she would not be invitinghimto any fiesta. Andrés was not at the café yet, but it was still early in the morning.
‘She’s not putting me off,’ said a deep voice from behind her. ‘I would like two of those.’ The man pointed to the green ice cream.
‘Sí, señor.’
Isadora turned and saw crowds flooding out of the cathedral. Early morning Mass must have just finished. She saw Enrico, Andrés’ father, change his expression and become all smiles for thepayo.While the two cornets were filled, Isadora looked up at the man, who was very tall and sunburnt, with a pair of deep brown eyes. He looked kind, she thought, and a bit sad.
‘Here, señorita,’ he said as he handed one of the cornets to her. She looked up at him in surprise.
‘For me?’ she asked.
‘Sí,’ he nodded.
‘Gracias a Dios,’ she said as she took a lick of the ice cream that was already melting in the sun and dribbling down the cornet. And having identified a potential customer, she smiled up sweetly at him. ‘Would you like your fortune told?’ she asked him in Spanish.
‘No comprendo. Hablo Ingles,’ he said.
‘You like fortune tell?’ The words had been taught to her parrot-fashion by Angelina, just in case she got talking to an English-speaking tourist in the plaza.
