Gabrielle was asleep when I woke up that morning. I left her a note saying I went to the city to buy her some clothes and food. I locked the door of the sexton house so that no one could get inside.
It was a beautiful sunny day, one of those days that inspired people to go out for errands, work in the house or in the garden, and take care of things that normally were delayed to a vague later date. I wanted to surprise Gabrielle but picking out a dress for a young woman is a hell of a job for a man. Thankfully, the nice ladies in the shop helped me with that challenging task.
I bought some groceries and headed back home. The gentle spring breeze carried me forward, closer to my love. For the first time I experienced how it felt like to be fully satisfied with life.
I was madly in love. I loved with all my heart and that feeling was almost unbearable. I was no longer the man in the middle, living his monotonous life, everyday getting closer to its finale, unable to change its inexorable course. It seemed to me that I had escaped from that humiliating mediocrity and had regained the autonomy of my life. I had discovered its unmeasurable potential, which hit me like a sunstroke and made me feel lightheaded.
My elevated state received an unexpected blow. When I came back, I saw Santana's car parked next to the cemetery gate. I wanted to scream and call the cops, but that would endanger Gabrielle. Instead, I walked leisurely to the gate, barely controlling my own agitated breathing.
Santana stood by the closed door of the sexton house. She looked attentively at the windows, trying to see movement behind the curtains, depicting the smell of fear like a bloodhound. She wore an emerald, green suit that instantly reminded me of reptiles.
She bared her teeth in a menacing smile when she saw me approaching her.
"Caretaker! I see you went out for groceries?" she remarked in an exaggerated friendly manner.
"Yes, Ma'am. What brings you here?"
I decided to play her game and not give out that someone was inside the house.
"Aren't you going to let me inside?" she asked provokingly.
I stepped forward and opened the door, talking as loudly as I could to give Gabrielle the time to hide. I placed the bags on my desk and barricaded the passage to my room by standing in front of it. I looked at Santana with the usual indifference and impartiality of a gravedigger, waiting for her reaction.
There was a tension about her that showed she was trying to discern the slightest noise that would reveal that there was someone else in the house.
Santana puckered her red lips in disdain as the suspicious silence started to bother her.
"I heard some unsettling rumours this morning as I was having lunch in town. People said that someone desecrated a grave with the purpose to steal the dead's belongings and found out that the woman was still alive. Do you know something about this?"
Santana could've only gotten that information from Mario. So, I had to be extra cautious with her.
"Yes, Ma'am. I'm sorry I didn't inform you earlier about this. I didn't know whom to call first, your husband or the police. Something awful had happened tonight to Gabrielle's grave. Robbers dug her out but ran away before I could catch them. The coffin was open, and the tombstone split in two. They even left some equipment behind," I explained.
I was skating on thin ice. In the case of grave robbery, a sexton was supposed to call the cops at once. But I cherished a slight hope that Santana didn't know that or didn't care because her main goal was to steal Gabrielle's jewellery. My unprofessional behaviour would be a side issue to her.
"Oh, really? How horrible! Can you show me the grave?" she asked, confused.
"Yes, Ma'am of course. Come with me, please. I have cleaned up everything and buried her again …"
I led her to Gabrielle's grave and showed her the tombstone.
I knew that Santana was responsible for that incident. She had instructed Mario and his accomplices to dig up the coffin and steal the necklace. She looked worried at the grave, but not because of what had happened to her dead stepdaughter.
"So, Gabrielle was dead?" she enquired.
"Yes, Ma'am. Trust me, I can see the difference between the dead and the living."
"Was anything stolen from her grave? She was buried in a beautiful necklace inlaid with precious stones. Have you seen it?"
"No, Ma'am. There was no necklace when I closed the lid. Should I call the police?"
"No. You have done the right thing by not calling them. I will let my husband know. We will settle this quietly," she said in an absent way, but I felt a raging vibrato trembling in her voice.
"And how about the tombstone, Ma'am?" I asked sheepishly.
"What tombstone? Oh, you mean that. Yes, I will tell him to replace it," and she left without saying goodbye.
I waited for her car's engine to die in the distance and rushed to my house. There I found Gabrielle hiding in the closet crying as she expected for the worst to happen to her. I calmed her down and told her about my conversation with Santana. My recount strengthened Gabrielle's suspicions. And it only made her sadder.
She sat on my lap, emotionally exhausted, and tensed up. I kissed her gently on her cheek and said I had something that could cheer her up. I showed her the dress I bought earlier for her, and she agreed to try it on.
As she was changing in the bedroom, I couldn't contain myself from peeking through the door crack. She didn't wear anything under my pullover except for her white underwear. Before putting on the dress, she laid it out on the bed and looked admiringly at it.
It was a pink dress with a print of vintage roses. The women in the shop told me that it would look great on a small woman. Gabrielle put it on and called me, but I was already in the room. She didn't expect to find me standing behind her back, which made her jump up from surprise. She started to laugh, and I couldn't help but smile as well. She asked me how she looked in that dress. The word delightful escaped my lips in a longing whisper. Gabrielle looked at me curiously and then went to close the door. She took me by the hand and led me to the seat by the window, asking me to sit down.
Gabrielle studied my face in silence. Anxious not to scare her off, I grinded my fingers into the elbow rests and waited for what would happen next. Cautiously, she placed her tiny hands on my face and gave me a gentle kiss on the lips. She took a sudden step back; afraid I would try to grab her. But I didn't. Her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned my shirt. I helped her with taking it off.
I stood before her, enjoying her sweet touch on my skin. Her hands were cold just like the first time when I brought her home. I moved to the bed and motioned her to sit on my lap.
With one hand I massaged the back of her neck, carefully examining every change in her face. I felt the muscles in her body relaxing under my touch. Each time a moan escaped her lips I tried to catch it with my mouth, kissing her gently.
The tail flower instantly popped up in my head; her soft lips reminded me of its red veiny leaves. The longer and the deeper I kissed her, the stronger I tasted the vegetal juice flowing into my mouth. Despite the bitterness, I couldn't get enough of it. She enjoyed my kisses and caresses so much she didn't notice how I unzipped her dress and got on top of her.
I knew it was her first time. Her excitement and fear made me anxious. I wanted to make her feel good so badly, but at the same time I was afraid to hurt her. Despite my animal longing, I took my time arousing her, covering her body with hot kisses, massaging her, and making her feel at ease. I remembered the things I did to her in my dream, as we were lying on the bottom of a freshly dug out grave. Concentrating on those actions helped me to give her enough time to relax her body and prepare her for making love to me. She was shocked when I entered her, but it didn't hurt her or make her bleed. I was so happy when she said she found it enjoyable.
Strange, but enjoyable.
Making love to her was a bliss. We were both in a state of feverish absence. She woke me up a few times that night, mounting on top of me, asking me to do those things again.
Her thirst was quenched at daybreak, when the dark sky outside the window converted to a purple haze. She fell asleep on my chest. I was exhausted and I longed for sleep, but I couldn't close my eyes. The lavender colour from outside seemed to fill my bedroom. I could swear I felt its layers against my skin. It enveloped us both until nothing could be distinguished. I closed my eyes and hid us under the cover, pressing Gabrielle against me, listening to the unison of our hearts.