Chapter 2 “Strange Sensations”

            What was wrong with me?  I gathered my tool and headed home, leaving the job unfinished, waiting for my mind to clear.  I wanted to find a logical explanation for all this.  I searched in the books about nature and medicine that we had at home, but I couldn’t find anything.  I spent the rest of the day in my room daydreaming, inventing thousands of stories of Nassay and I, until my mother called me for dinner.  I realize that I was mentally absent during the meal, but no one said anything.  Maybe something like this had already happened to them and they understood, but the truth is that I was so embarrassed that it didn’t even occur to me to ask. 

The next day, there I was, with my toolbox in hand, standing at her door, full of fear and thinking about how to knock, until I told myself, what am I doing?  They called me over!

So I swallowed hard and knocked, waiting to see her face when she opened the door.  However, to my surprise, it was Mercedes who stood there in a beige, satin nightdress.  She invited me in and told me that Nassay was in the stable feeding the horses.

“Should I tell her you’re here?  Do you want some coffee?  I just made it,” she said kindly.

“No, thank you,” I replied.  “I’ll just get to work.  Just tell me where you want me to start, ma’am.”

A while after beginning work, I felt a light touch on my back at the same time that I caught a delicate, familiar fragrance.  I looked behind me and there she was, the most beautiful angel that any man had ever beheld.

“Good morning, Daniel.  How’s the work coming along?  Are you thirsty?  Would you like some fresh lemonade?”  And without giving me any time to answer she promised to bring me some.

“I you want to, Nassay, but this is nothing, really,” I said somewhat nervously.

While she was bringing the drinks, I finished replacing the final slat in the fence.  Hammering in the last nail, I finished the repair.  I began to gather up the tools, covertly watching for her.  And there she came with a fine wooden tray.  The morning sun, shining through her black hair, pierced my vision with almost magical flashes of blue light.

            “It looks so good!  Thank you so much, Daniel!  You’re so sweet!  Lemonade?” Nassay said with a great big smile.

            I blushed again like a ripe tomato.  It took courage to be next to this woman.

            “The party’s at eight o’clock tonight, don’t be late!”

            “No, of course!  I’ll be there at eight, on the dot!”

            I spent that afternoon in front of the mirror.  I must have changed clothes and re-combed my hair at least a hundred times, shaking with nerves.