32. Don't bail on me
"Girl. Are you drunk again?"
Of course that would be the first thing my cousin would say. I couldn't blame him though. Most of our random conversations would involve lots of alcohol. I wish I were drunk and this was just all one big hallucination.
"I wish. No seriously, you've got to help me. Apparently I'm being accused of transporting large amounts of drugs. I don't-"
"Drugs? Why the hell would you even try smuggling that stuff in Mexico when you know you can get the stuff here in our country legally? That's just plain stupid. Were you in one of your blonde moods again? I swear-"
"Don't you think I know that? I mean, apart from the first night my life was really going well. My job at the orphanage was going smoothly. I kind of stuck to my no sex, no alcohol vow. Do you know how difficult that was? Four months long I was a complete nun. I was starting to think the media exaggerated the crime scenes in Mexico because I never encountered trouble since my stay. That was until two days ago when I was picking up books for the children.
I was just cycling with that heavy load when all of a sudden this masked guy comes at me. I thought he wanted to rob me but that was just crazy. I looked poor as hell I don't even know why he thought he'd be able to get something from me. Hijo de puta salta delante de mi bicicleta con un cuchillo grande. Qué se supone que debo hacer? Yo-"
"Girl, stop! Me no hablo español! Just start talking Dutch to me again. At least I can understand that and help you."
Behind me I could hear Mustacho snickering. I whipped my head around and gave him the finger before resuming my conversation.
"Wow, I didn't even notice. I am so awesome I just switched to Spanish effortlessly! Swearing just sounds so much better in Spanish."
"Yeah, that is kind of awesome. So you got dirty with any Mexicans yet? I'd love to get me a latino daddy whispering all kinds of dirty things into my ear." And off he went, probably already starting fantasising with his mind. For relatives we were just too much alike.
"Did you not hear the part of my nun life? Anyway, he jumped in front of my bicycle with a big knife and instead of braking I sort of ran him over and then fell of my bicycle. Before I knew it I started kicking the man and screaming like a madwoman. And then there was this other guy going for the books. I could not let those poor children down when I promised them to get them books so I left that guy alone and went for the book thief but he had an even bigger knife. So I did the one thing I could think of and threw my shoes at him. He was distracted for a moment and then I lunged myself at him. I guess that was the moment he realized I was loco because he started running with half of the books."
"What the hell? They are just books Maya. Why go through all that effort when your life was in danger?"
"Shut up, Ricardo. I promised those poor kids. They hardly have anything as it is. So, I started chasing him and we ran straight into the police. Apparently the commotion had attracted an audience and someone called the cops. They thought I was the accomplice of those thieves at first and I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that they would go to such length for a couple of books. That's when we all noticed the book that had fallen to the ground surrounded with a lot of white powder." I swallowed. I had never talked so fast as I did just then.
"Any idiot could see that that was drugs lying there. The moment it hit me I ran for life. I mean I know drugs are legal in Mexico but only small personal amounts. I put two and two together when I saw the drugs. That would explain the heavy books. But I wasn't fast enough since I threw my shoes at the thief before so the police caught me in no time.
It's been three days now. And after so much harassing and begging I was finally allowed one phone call. Being a woman in this country sometimes helps with pleading. And now we're here. If Rafael hadn't given me the order to pick up those books that day, every-"
Wait. Rafael.
My mind suddenly flashed back to a memory of one of the first days at the orphanage. I accidentally walked into his office. I could hear the rage in his voice during the phone call. As I neared the part of the building where his office was located I picked up one word. Traficante. With the luck I had I somehow managed to trip in the hall and the noise caused him to immediately end the phone call and exit his room, only to see me lying on the floor. I looked up to see the man I had met on my first night in Mexico and I could feel myself turning red from embarrassment.
He smirked obviously thinking about the same thing. As I stood up and regained my posture he asked me what I heard. At that time my Spanish was still very poor and I stuttered. I told him I didn't really hear anything just something about traffic.
Only a few weeks ago I learned that 'traficante' didn't mean traffic at all when I met up with my colleague and friend Nina and used that word to apologize for being late, seeing as traffic was hell. She basically slapped me and told me to not use that word so loudly in public. I couldn't remember where I got that word from and thought I just mispronounced the word. But now I knew. That bastard.
"Maya? MAYA? Are you there? Please tell me you didn't die! If so, I'm claiming your shoe collection. "
"Yes, I'm still here." I didn't recognize my voice. It sounded so detached and emotionless. My cousin noticed as well since I didn't even comment on my sacred heels and started ranting again. I decided to cut it off. I don't think I had much time left.
"I just realized something. Make sure that you don't tell my parents anything. They were against me moving to Mexico all along. I need you to bail me out. Don't worry; I saved up on my account for emergencies. I'd say this is definitely an emergency. You know my bank account details. Just call this number again to work out the bail."
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Mustacho approaching me. My call was about to end.
"Oh and Rico? One piece of advice: if you meet a hot tattooed latino in the club giving you the bedroom eyes saying he's going to speed without brakes to your curves, you run. Don't follow my lead and say ai papi while thinking about having his babies. Alcohol is not your friend in this case."
And then the phone was snatched out of my hands. I looked up to see Mustacho grinning down at me. Whoever thought that moustaches made a man more masculine was clearly insane. The big moustache on the man's face made him only more creepy and shady. I raised an eyebrow and challenged him to comment on the parts that he did understand. He chose to let it go and pushed me towards the door to escort me back to my cell. Wise man.
As I walked back to my cell I pondered about a plan to get back at Rafael. I knew my decision to never have a boyfriend was justified right then. Men were never to be trusted. They were only useful to satisfy some urges, which I did. And look where it had gotten me. If it wasn't that body that could entice you then it was those eyes; manipulative, like a snake. I was glad it only stayed at that one time, before I found out that he'd be the boss at the orphanage. Otherwise I'd be thoroughly disgusted with myself. The alarm bells should have rung when I noticed him that day in the office. No man with that kind of appearance would willingly found an orphanage without having some hidden agenda.
I guess my cousin was right. I really did look at the world with rose coloured glasses more often than I should. It really was naïve to think that a successful man like Rafael would keep the orphanage as some kind of charity case. He basically oozed secretiveness and danger. It was what had attracted me that night in the club in the first place.
Mustacho locked the door behind me and leered at me one more time before walking away, whistling some kind of Spanish tune. Maybe it was really that simple. Just ignore the drama and live in your own kind of happy bubble and check out people.
I frowned and lied down on the wooden plank hanging from the wall, my so-called bed. I put my arms behind my head and contemplated my situation. The first thing I had to do was get out of this place. I hoped that Ricardo would be able to settle things and bail me out. The police here was so corrupted it wasn't even funny. No doubt he would run into some difficulties there. I was certain I could not go home and face my parents. Ever.
Once I got out, I had to make a plan to start my new life here in Mexico. I had to somehow get revenge on Rafael. Was everyone in the orphanage involved? Even Nina? I was the outsider, the foreigner, so it didn't surprise me that I didn't know anything at all. I had some understanding of Spanish to save myself but most of the things I did using English and that was of a huge advantage to Rafael. No questions asked.
The sound of squeaking metal woke me up. Somehow I had managed to fall asleep during my thinking. How long had I been out? There wasn't any indication of time here. My back ached; sleeping on a wooden plank for three days wasn't exactly comfortable. I got and stretched my back to get the kinks out. I could hear footsteps nearing in the direction of my cell. Curiosity got the best of me and I moved to the edge of my own confinement. I saw that the prisoners in the opposite cells had done the same. Did we get a new neighbour? We held a conversation with our eyes. 'Do you know what's going on here?'
As the footsteps grew louder a feeling of dread filled me. The atmosphere felt charged and I could not explain why. I really hoped I wouldn't get a new cellmate. That was the only luck I had so far. The prison was mixed and these people really could not be trusted. The footsteps had stopped and I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard the sounds of keys in front of my cell. I looked in front of me to see a buff looking man in handcuffs at least twice my age. Oh God, no. I was too young to die.
My eyes must have given away my thoughts for the guy grinned maliciously, flashing his two golden front teeth.
"As happy as you are to see me, the feeling is definitely not mutual pal."
The man's grin faltered a little and he looked confused. Someone from the side snorted and my head turned to the right, seeing no one other than Mustacho.
"Chica, you should be glad that this man doesn't speak English. You wouldn't be laughing now if he did."
"Mustacho, always a pleasure. Miss me already?" I gave him my most charming smile. Maybe if I got in his good graces he would put Mr Goldy Teeth in another cell.
"You know it, chica."
Someone coughed. That's when I noticed the third person behind Goldy Teeth. "Open the cell, Rodrigo."
"No, you've got the wrong cell mate. Shouldn't you open the one over there? I'm sure he'll make lots of friends with those guys. This cell is already crowded as it is."
I gestured to the left cells opposite of me. The guys in those cells became restless and started doing their alpha male thing in order to avoid rooming with the new inmate. In short, they started cursing in Spanish. How typical.
However Rodrigo paid no heed to my suggestion and opened my cell. My life was over. I looked up and closed my eyes. This was it. Maya Lingen, died at age of 21 in a prison in Mexico. That was what my headstone would say. Suddenly I was jerked forward and before I had opened my eyes I was handcuffed as well.
"What the hell, Mustacho!"
"Okay, let's get this over with calmly before you drive any more inmates crazy."
Mustacho practically shoved me out of the cell as the other guard escorted a growling Goldy Teeth towards the cell. No way. Did my charm actually work on Mustacho? Praise the lord for that miracle.
Mustacho didn't stop there but kept pushing me towards the end of the corridor. "Am I being transferred to the other side of the building or something? I couldn't even say bye to my neighbours."
"Stop whining, brat. You can consider yourself lucky. Someone must really care for you."
"What are you talking about? Wait, did my cousin bail me out already? Wow, that was fast even for him."
I noticed we were heading towards the front of the prison. We stopped in front of the locker room and Mustacho told me to give him my hands so he could get the handcuffs of. Was this for real? After that he pushed a package in my hands. I didn't trust it and shot him a look that told him exactly that.
"What you want to be released naked? Because I wouldn't mind that."
"No thank you. I think you've seen too much of me already. Now shoo. I want to get out of this disgusting overall."
I turned around and headed into the locker room. I opened the package to see that it contained the clothes I wore when I was brought in three days ago. Huh, this felt too good to be real. I wouldn't question it though. Apparently I was getting out. I changed quickly not wanting to be in this place a second longer.
I exited the locker room and faced Mustacho. "Well then, I guess this is good bye. Challas!" I was about to make a run for it but pulled back by my arm.
"Don't tell me you actually want a good bye hug because that ain't happening."
Mustacho chuckled. "I didn't even think of that. Anyway, I got orders to escort you out all the way. You're not getting rid of me that easily, chica."
"Alright, no problem. At least I am getting out."
Mustacho must have taken the job seriously because he dragged me by my arm all the way to the front door before releasing his grip. I spun around to tell him off.
"Now that's not nmovboo-"
Someone behind me had put his hand on my mouth and held me in a death grip. I tried to trash around but the person was too strong for me to be able to move one bit. Then I realized the hand held a small piece of cloth soaked in what could only be chloroform. As the darkness started to set it a bag was placed over my head and the last thing I was able to hear was Mustacho's vague voice.
".. you wish you'd stayed in prison because where you're going to end up now is hell.."
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