03.5 Photographer

Marina climbed down the stairs under the pergola sharp at four. She wore a pleated figure skimming tennis dress, white shoes and a bag on her shoulder with her tennis kit.

Some of the maids were in the enclosed pool but they did not notice. As they got adapt to the venue, the maids enjoyed swimming up until late. She came down from the piazza and turned towards the gate completely hidden by the pavilion. She sauntered beside the fence to the end and stepped on the pier. An afternoon sun toned her skin to a ruddy tan. She crossed to the club office and opened the door.

Elena frowned at the counter, “Are you going out, señora?”

She spoke in a soft voice, “Mr Lucero is coming to fetch me,” and glanced nervously to see if a maid was out there. “Is Andrés here?”

“Andrés!” she gave a shout, “He’s gone out. I go find him.”

“May I go inside?” She did not want the maids to see her going out on a date.

“Please, come in!” motioned Elena and ushered the woman first into the inner room, “Make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you.”

Andrés returned in a while and noticed her sitting tense on a single chair in a white little dress.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked.

“Yes please,” wished Marina, “a Fernet-coke, very strong.”

Forty minutes passed and Lucero failed to show up. On the back of her mind, she grew anxious that Jamal might come any moment. She wanted to flee from him. At that point she was losing confidence and twice applied a sunscreen on her arms and legs, kept glancing at her wristwatch constantly.

Andrés reached to find an empty glass, “Another one?”

“Please!”

She took it down in a swig.

Meanwhile, Lucero fared in speeding to cover seventeen miles in his car after a quick stop at home to get changed. It was annoying too to quit office on a busy day and mind over a bunch of nomads.

He drove through the gate and reached the club office. Andrés motioned him to wait. And then his eyes caught on the girl who came out of the door in a short tennis dress – all set for a date. It took him by surprise.

“Why are you late?” asked Marina.

He shrugged, “Traffic.”

Marina glanced towards the gate to see if there was a sign of Jamal. She dropped her legs and climbed the cabrio. Andrés assisted with her bag.

Lucero commented, “You choose your apparels well, señora!”

“Call me Mary,” she said.

“Mary! You look gorgeous!”

“Thank you.”

He drove out of the gate at fast speed with a cheery smile. He asked enthused, “Did you take a shot!”

“Shot?”

“A drink.”

“Yes, I did,” she said.

“See! I have a long nose. I can smell.”

“I was having a headache.”

“Are you alright now?” he asked.

“Yes, much better, thanks.”

“What is it bothering you?”

“I will tell you later,” said Marina.

Jamal was there waiting impatiently for the time to strike five, rubbing his nape feeling uneasy of those tingles from his new shirt. He saw a red convertible driven to the club office. And then to his amazement, she appeared in a white little dress. At first, he could not figure out that it was Marina. This newcomer did not step out of the car. But when she climbed the car, he grew aware of it and paced towards the wrought iron gate. By then the Ferrari passed by to cut him in the face.

“Damn!” he stood dumbfounded. It was the blindest of the blind dates. Things turned so fast and he was at loss. He wanted to go in and ask at the front desk who it was. Another thought occurred to follow the car. Something stopped him there.

Jamal reached a booth and called Diego Lopez. “She cheated! She’s gone with another guy! Another date!”

“Calm down, Mr Fish!” Lopez grimaced behind the mouthpiece, “You have to be a little patient. It’s not supposed to work today but it is going to work.” He knew magic could trigger a fire in the woman with another mate. He was engaged in pinning the doll with blue pins.

“You screwed it!” he hung up.