Spanish Eyes

Spanish Eyes

Loretta had been driving all morning.

She was hot and sticky and had the radio turned up loud to drive 'That Damned
Music'from her mind. The minute she'd started the car engine that morning, the tune had
leapt into her head ...Dum, dum dum dum, dum dum, dum, dum, dum, dum,
dumdumdumdum. It was vaguely familiar, she knew that if she could just strain her
memory that little bit further she would be able to come up with some words, but the more
she tried the more elusive the words, or even the song's title had become. Soon the
constant humming in her brain, had become irritating, and she had turned the radio up to
try and dislodge the persistent tune. The songs on the radio helped, but only for as long as
they played, as soon as the radio presenters voice came back over the airwaves, so the
tune came back to haunt her.

Loretta was driving North East on buisness. In fact she found this rather an interesting trip
because it was taking her to the town of her birth. It was also a little painful, because it
stirred long forgotten memories of a painful childhood.

Her mother had been a spanish lady, who had come over to England in the late 1950's
to make a name for herself as a cabaret singer. She had been good too. Unfortunately her
career had never managed to rekindle after she had become pregnant with Loretta, money
had become tight, and Constance had battled to bring up a mixed race child alone in an
alien and hostile country.

By the time Loretta was five, Constance had slipped into a pit of depression, she
begrudged the child who she felt had stolen from her the glittering career which would
surely have made her a household name if Loretta hadn't come along. How horrified she
must have been to find herself pregnant and alone at such a prosperous time in her life.

One day it had all become too much for her and she had walked out in front of a truck
and killed herself.

Loretta had nurtured a seed of contempt for a mother who could find freedom, in the
hands of suicide, while leaving a five year old child to the mercy of the state, The seed had
grown into a strong firm tree of loathing. Loretta despised her mother for her weakness,
and for the lack of love for her innocent child.

Lori as she prefered to be clled was in good time, she wasn't due to be in Newcastle
until 4:00pm, for a meeting in the Town Hall, followed by an evening dinner and dance, at
an exclusive hotel. Her trip was of course all paid for by the company, and it would have
been so much easier to book a room at the hotel. And yet the call of the past is a strong
one, She had booked her nights accomodation,at a small guest house in South Shields,
where she had been born. Why? She had no idea.

Her eyes were stinging as she drove to the guest house, She had reached South Shields
and decided to stop off, for a bite to eat in a small and rather decrepit looking pub.
Loretta walked into the public bar, and couldn't believe her eyes, It was pure Sixties
nostalgia. It must have been some sort of Sixties revival, all the customers and staff alike
were in Sixties dress, with Teddy Boy suits, and bouffant hairstyles. She walked over to
the bar where a large calendar bearing a picture of Doris Day, proclaimed the date to be
the 5th of December 1962. Good gimmick, attention to detail makes all the difference
thought Lori. She smiled her approval at the barman, who looked right through her.

Loretta was taken aback. "Excuse me , May I have a Britvic Orange please?" She
addressed the rude bartender, and he completely ignored her, nobody looked towards her
or even aknowleged her presence. Lori had heard how sometimes small towns take a dim
view of strangers, often to the point of ostracizing them. She felt her cheeks burning with
humiliation, and turned to walk out.

Suddenly she was rooted to the spot. The tune that had been running through her mind
was now playing. She felt as though she was wading through mud in some bizarre dream
as she turned to face the small stage at the end of the barroom. A singer had taken the
huge, old fashioned microphone in her hand, and was smiling at the assembled audience as
the pianist finished playing his introduction.

The beautiful sweet voice of the lady began to ring out, Loretta was transfixed.

"You Spanish eyes, prettiest eyes in all of Mexico. Blue, Spanish eyes, please smile for me
once more before I go........"

The song was written for a male voice, but the lady sang in a rich melodious soprano, and
carried it off beautifully. Loretta felt her eyes stinging with tears at the beauty of the
music.The song ended, and the lady went on to sing a couple more. Loretta was rooted,
transfixed to the spot, unable to move. She was mesmerized by the beautiful lady. What
the hell was happening here?"

When the woman had finished her set, she took a deep bow and the pianist stood up and
said " Put your hands together for Constance Fernandez ladies and gentlemen. The
Spanish Nightingalye."

Loretta swooned and had to grab the bar for support, nobody glanced her way, and the
realization struck her that they couldn't see her. This was impossible, it couldn't be
happening, she glanced again at the date on the calendar, and then over to her beautiful
mother, who was now walking over to the bar.

"Hello Charlie" she purred in a voice husky, and rolling with a heavy Mediterranean
accent "I'll have half a stout please. It's full of Iron you know, I'm told it will be good for
my beautiful Bambino".

Haway on over Connie pet. So it's true then, you're having a bairn? Aaah Hen, Why'd
ye have to be so daft. You could have had it all ya know. You could go places."

Constance's eyes flashed with sudden anger. "Tell me now Charlie , What could I have?
No offence to you, but what have I achieved all these years, playing one seedy pub after
another. Playing to old men who cry into their beer, and care not who croons them into
oblivion ...Charlie ....Charlie ..Don't you understand? I hate this sordid business, I want
out Charlie. This baby is all I've ever wanted. She will be a girl, and I will call her Loretta.
She will have her Papa's eyes and will do all the things I never managed to do. Never
Charlie, will a child be loved as much as mine. We may not have much, and we may
struggle from time to time, but I'm a good seamstress and can make a living at it, and it
will be a struggle of love, Be happy for me Charlie. I've never been so happy for myself.

Loretta shivered and wiped distractedly at the tears coursing down her cheeks, it was
cold. She looked around and found herself standing in the car park outside the dilapidated,
long abandoned pub. All the windows had been smashed, and vandals had plied their craft
to both the interior and exterior of the building. She touched the wood on the old front
door, and she sang softly, in a voice equal in beauty to that of her Mothers "Please .....Say
Si Si ...Say you and your Spanish Eyes will wait for me"

Now she knew the answer to her question. "Why Mamma? Why Did you leave me ?"

She heard a whisper in the wind. A spanish whisper that said "Loretta, I would never have
willingly left you. My death was an accident but my spirit is with you always. Now dry
your Spanish Eyes and smile for me."