Laura Restrepo - Isle of Passion

“Poison,” Alicia said, running in search of whatever remained of Ramón’s pharmacy. Most of the bottles were broken, empty, or dry, but the blue flask she was looking for was intact. It had never even been opened. It still had its original label: “Agua zafia (Arandula vertiginosa),” and Arnaud’s handwritten red label, which read, “Potentially lethal,” and included instructions for its use: “One drop dissolved in a half cup of water taken after meals, good for heartburn; two drops, at eleven, improves appetite; five drops, excellent aphrodisiac; ten drops taken daily, great tonic for the heart, prolongs life; but thirty drops taken at once endanger it; two tablespoons of agua zafia will kill anybody.”*

They needed Altagracia’s complicity, and they were looking for a way to communicate with her without Victoriano’s knowing. They discovered that the best time was early in the morning while he was in deepest sleep. They found Altagracia turned inward; protected, aloof, and untouchable in the fortress of her dreams.

“Is he hurting you much?” they whispered, not to wake up the man.

“He only hurts my body,” she answered, “because my mind thinks of the one who loves me, and it escapes with him very far away from here.”

“The memory of your German fellow saves you,” Alicia told her, “and you are the one who is going to save us.”

They prepared two full tablespoons of agua zafia dissolved into a thick fish soup and explained to Altagracia that for him to die, she had to make him eat it. That she should not taste it, not even a sip. She could tell him she had prepared it especially for him.

“He’s not going to believe me,” protested Altagracia. “I don’t cook for him, even when he hits me for it.”

They convinced her, embraced her, gave her their blessings, and returned home. For the following two days they had no news, either from Altagracia or from Victoriano, and they tormented themselves with the possibilities.

“He must have swallowed only enough for the dose to be an aphrodisiac, and he’s going to come now and rape us all.”

“Or maybe he took the dose that prolongs life, and then not even a bolt of lightning could touch him.”

“Or the poison opened his appetite, and he wants more soup. ..”

On the third day he reappeared, furious like a wild beast, more haggard and horrible than before because, he growled, he had eaten the soup and kept vomiting, nonstop, for three days. He beat up all the women, dragged them by the hair, and then took away all the rifles, guns, tools, and even kitchen knives so that they could not use any of them against him.

“Bitches, you wanted to kill me! I’m going to kill you all, and save your tender daughters for later. I’ll teach them to love me while they are still young, and not to stab me in the back.”

One day Alicia woke up quite determined. She could find no rest after Victoriano had threatened the girls. She had a responsibility, even though it meant doing something horrible. At dawn, she prepared her children’s breakfast. She wrapped Angel in a rebozo and slung him on her back as the women had shown her. She grabbed Ramón by the hand and called Alicia and Olga.

“Where are we going, Mom?”

“To the southern rock.”

The children were happy, remembering the times their father used to go on outings with them. Though their mother did that frequently now, it was not the same. When they got to the top of the rock, she would stand at the edge of the cliff in utter silence. She did not show them the stars, as he used to, or talk to them about the direction of the winds. She just stood there, lost in thought, while they played. Then suddenly she would say, “Let’s go back home, children, our excursion is over,” and it was of no use to plead with her to stay a little while longer, or to ask her to let them go down to the bottom of the rock through the center hole. But it didn’t matter: they were happy to go anyway.

The girls ran ahead, and Alicia had to run to catch up with them. When they were close, with the sun already out, she asked them, as usual, to be silent so as not to wake up Victoriano, and to crouch as they walked so he could not see them in case he did. Nervous but with shiny eyes, the children obeyed, trying to hold back their laughter with their hands.

Alicia was climbing up with the baby, but he was so small that she didn’t feel his weight. Her older boy guided her, told her where to step. She trembled, determined to do what she had not dared do on other occasions. It was different now, they were running out of time. It was now or never; if she waited any longer, it would be too late.

The girls clambered up the cliff, holding on to the rocks. They were naked, suntanned, electric, and agile like monkeys.

When they reached the top, Alicia looked down, and her heart shrank. This is utter madness, she thought. She had stood there several times, reviewing all the proceedings in her head, rehearsing it all mentally in order not to fail at the moment of truth. Night after night she had prepared herself for this moment. But now, when it was real and there was no turning back, nothing seemed according to plan, even in her darkest forebodings. The cliff felt more hostile, more merciless. Its height, which had seemed tolerable to her, opened into a black void, terrifying and abysmal. It would take them ages to fall to the bottom, they would hit the rocks on the way down, their bodies would be mangled before reaching the water. They would not die quickly, as she had thought, but, instead, descend slowly through the morning mist, and the children would have time to realize what was going on, to feel the panic, to scream at her for help, and not to forgive her for all eternity. “Let’s forget it! This time we’ll go back the same way we came,” Alicia said, but then she remembered Victoriano, his threats to kill them and rape the girls. If he ever touched her girls, if he mistreated them, could she ever forgive herself? Would Ramón forgive her? I’ll jump with the children now. There is no other solution, she thought.

Then she realized that the children were not going to stand still waiting for her to push them. They were going to run helter-skelter, to squeeze by and defend themselves. She would have to run after them. This had not occurred to her before, perhaps because it wasn’t ever real. She had imagined them holding hands with her and jumping into the void, unaware, half asleep, tired of living, resigned to their fate, accepting death. But the creatures ahead of her, playing and jumping around, were full of vitality. They were life itself, and they would cling to her with overwhelming energy. “Oh Lord, forgive me for planning such a stupid atrocity. What I must do is kill Victoriano.” She felt strong and determined. She had been hiding Ramón’s sword. She would do it. She and Tirsa would kill him. Could they do it? Would the enormous and rusty sword be serviceable? No, they could not do it. What would probably happen is that he would kill them first, and that the children would be left at his mercy. There is no other way out, she thought. Today there is no turning back.

The extent of her pain surprised her. Even though in her soul she knew, or wanted to convince herself, that this time they would not jump either, she suffered as if they were going to. She firmly believed that she had suffered all the pain that a human being could withstand, that she knew suffering deep and wide, that it was already familiar terrain with no surprises. But her suffering now was a hundred times, a thousand times worse than all she had been through before. She was horrified at the intensity of the anguish her heart could tolerate.

The children found the hole that led to the interior of the big rock, used by Ramón and his men in search of treasure years ago.