Rio Glammer

The Stranger





Stay in, Katia. We shall be along quickly.”
“Yes, Auntie.”
That is what Aunt Anastasia said, and that is what I answered . Uncle held the door open gallantly and turned to wink a blue eye at me. Auntie walked out the door lifting her silks . Uncle followed and gently closed the door behind him.
It was a bright day. The light brook through the thick curtains of the pension room and spilled on the lush carpet. I moved to the window and slowly pulled back the curtains. The courtyard below was a scene of bustling. Slim black cars were arriving. Porters were logging baggages and elegant rich ladies and gentlemen followed closely behind, wearing large sun hats.
The outside world was calling me. I could almost feel the pull of it. I wanted so much to go exploring. See the streets and smell the warm air. It would do such good for my pail white skin. Auntie had said so herself.
So why not.
“Stay in, Katia.” Auntie had also said.
That was the order to not leave the hotel room. I was to stay in. It has been three days in Rio, and I have only gone out once with Auntie and Uncle. We are to stay for three weeks and then move on to France to carry on the trip.
I sighed and closed the curtains. Surly they didn’t expect me to be locked up in here all evening did they? Why didn’t they take me with them to the banquet? No. That would be worse. I was boarded, but not that boarded. Auntie and Uncle were visiting friends. I couldn’t possibly sit through all that boring conversations.
I sighed again and flopped on a chair. I couldn’t stay in this room another moment.
I jumped up and hurried for my room. I looked through my closet and picked out some cloths to wear. After donning a white soft dress, light white sandals and big black sunglasses I studied myself in the full length mirror. I was not of royal blood, as far as I knew. But i might as well have been.
I was blond and slim, with an enchanting smile . It was often said that I walked with a grace and elegance that couldn’t be found in another soul. My hair was nearly white, but reached nearly below my hips. The dress made me appear more elegant, as do all my clothes. The soft light fabric fell around my hips, the band at the middle clung snugly to my bust.
I smiled. I took a deep breath and a wild look around the room. Oh, I nearly forgot it. Running to the coffee table I snapped up the map of the town. I was just about to step out the door when I remembered my hat. I snapped it of the hatstand and pulled it down over my head. I flaps grazed the back of my shoulders. If I was going exploring, I was doing it in style.
Leaving the hotel was simple, and I did it quickly. I ignored Phillips the bellboy who tried to bacon to me. I turned away and hurried of towards the door. He chased after me. I was just bursting through the giant doors when he caught my arm.
“Madam. Madam, please.” He was speaking French to me which was my native language. I turned and looked at him. He seemed quite out of breath. His young handsome face flushed when he stared into my face.
“Oh.” He said pulling back a little.
“Did you want something?” I asked.
He seemed mesmerized for a moment. Staring at me. “Uh. No. No.” He shook his head quickly. “No not at all. I was just making sure madam did not need assistance.”
“No, I do not need anything.” I said shaking my head. “Thank you.” Then I turned to leave.
I walked through the the busy streets and followed the crowd. After a while I sundered into a market. People were talking and calling out in Spanish all around me. The streets were most filthy. I dodged potholes filled with dark stinky water. People were walking everywhere, bumping into each other, carrying baskets on their shoulders and calling out in loud voices. The smell of spices and meat filled my nostrils with a whiff of wind. I held onto my hat and tried to make my way through.
Suddenly someone slammed hard into me from behind. I screamed as the floor rolled up to meet me. Splash! Right into a giant pothole. The dirty water sprayed into my face and down my dress. My hat stayed on but my map went flying.
Someone placed a hand on my shoulders. “Are you alright?” They asked in thick Spanish. I couldn’t reply. I couldn’t open my eyes. I was in shock. I tried sitting up and the person who sounded like a boy helped me to my feet. I felt something on my face. It was a cloth and I knew he was Wiping the mud away.
“I am so sorry!” He said.
“You’re sorry and I am wet.” I spat. I opened my eyes and stared into his face. He appeared to be seventeen, a year older then me. He had thick black hair and big brown eyes with gold specks around the iris. He was dressed in simple clothes. A white T-shirt and dark shorts. It showed of his beautiful bronze skin. He was stunning and I stopped myself from crying out with awe.
“Look at me.” I demanded. “I am wet now! My dress is ruined. Why did you not look where you were going? Why did you push me into the pothole?”
His eyes grew wide. “I did not mean to push you into the pothole! I am really sorry.”
“You ruined my dress. Now I’ll have to go back home. And—.” I looked around for my map. It had flown out of my hand when I fell. I needed to find it. It is my only way of getting back to the Pension Royal. I grew frantic and began to look around with wild eyes.
“What is wrong?” The boy asked with concern. He watched for a moment. Then he adjusted the basket on his shoulder and turned to leave.
Anger burned through my face. I reached out and caught his arm before he went too far. He spun around in astonishment and I pulled his head down. We stared at each other face to face.
“You have my mad don’t you?” I said sharply. “Gave it to me please. I need to go home.”
“I do not have your map.” He said. Blinked in my face a few times, then pulled away muttering. “You tourists are blockheads. You do not know the country then why do you come here and waste our time. Go back home little girl. You are lost.”
I do not understand Spanish like the natives do, but I am fluent. He was speaking fast, but I understood enough to make me truly angry. I could feel my face growing red and I lost all knowledge of being a lady. I needed to catch this crook. How dare he speak to me in such a way! First he pushes me into a pothole, now he cals me a little girl.
“Thief!” I cried out. “You stole my map.”
He turned to stare ghastly at me. Other people looked as well and began to murmur. He switched around and dashed off. I chased. The streets were crowded but I didn’t care. I needed to catch that boy.
I doged left and right, climbed a pumpkin stand and tore through the air. I kept the white flash of his shirt in view. He threw baskets in my way, causing people to scream at him in frustration. I tripped over the baskets and fell on my face. Jumping to my feet I continued the chase. I could see him ahead, ducking through huts and stands, hiding among the crowd. I fallowed close behind, but I knew what he looked like. I never lost sight of him once. He knew the market and I didn’t. But I had something he was lacking . It was the pounding, hurrying thought of getting lost.
I was out of breath by the time we burst out of the busy market. People stared after us, and some screamed in horror as we went flying by. Panting and feeling weak I pounded into a large courtyard. I scanned the area with wild eyes. He was no where. But I had seen him come in here. Then it downed on me. He was hiding.
“I-I-I shall find you. You-you crook!” I called loudly. My voice bounced off the stone walls. I ventured in farther, my heart pounding in my chest. The clicking sound of my sandals on the dark cable stones. In the middle of the courtyard was a big fountain. A statue of a woman stood of top, water skirting from her mouth. It was a pretty little place, and lead out to the street where people were walking.
Maybe he escaped through there. I was just about to head that way when a hand closed around my mouth and a arm encircled my waist. I uttered a muffled scream.
“Stop.” Was the harsh demand in Spanish. “Calm down. I will take my hand away. Do not scream.”
My heart beat sounded in my ear. I reached up to yank his hand away. He wouldn’t let go of me. My fingers clawed at his big hand. I pushed my body against him. He held on tighter. We struggled for a few minutes, breathing hard and grunting. We grew close to the fountain. I kicked him in the shins. Immediately he released his hold on me, screaming in pain. I spun around and stared at him with flashing eyes. He was bend over rubbing his shins, his face scrunched up in pain.
“Stay away!” I shrieked. “Stay away from me! And gave me my map. Gave me my map.”
“Please stop yelling.” He moved to stumble towards me, holding out his arms. “Do not scream.”
I jerked away. “Do not get any closer. Stay away. And gave me my map! Right now!” I talk two steps back.
“No!” He screamed and rushed towards me, grabbing frantically at me.
I was horrified. I tried to turn and run but my legs hit the rocky side of the fountain. He grabbed me just before I toppled over backwards. I reached out, yanking at his shirt. Things suddenly seemed to move in slow motion. We tottered for a fraction of a second, then we both tumble over head over heals. The water rushed into my moth when I hit. It closed around my head, and thick lily pads covered my face. The boy fumbled around me and grabbed my arm. He dragged me to the edge and we both stumbled out. We fell to the cabled floor, gasping for breath and trembling. I was dripping wet. My sun hat sagged to my shoulders, covering my face. I pushed it away from my eyes with frustration. The dress was sticking tightly to my body, my long hair in a tangled soggy mess. I felt like screaming. But I didn’t. I sat up and yanked of the sun hat. I turned and stared down at the stranger. That old rotten stranger causing me such troubles. It was most embarrassing.
He sat up as well and gave me a look. A look that read, “you are out of your head.” I wanted to slog him. And I did. I reached out and slapped him hard on the shoulder with a wet hand. Without another ward I turned away and struggled to my feet, ignoring his hard glare.
Evidently that thief had lost my map in the fountain. It would be no use to me now.
I glanced down at my watch. I needed to get back to the Pension Royal. I glanced around me. Where was this place? I’ve never been here before of course. How was I going to get home? I was lost! Another thought hit me. Auntie would foam at the mouth when she saw me like this.
“You are lost.” The stranger spoke in Spanish again. He talked really fast and his voice was soft, but I was able to catch what he said. “You are lost. You do not know the way home.”
I switched around to glare at him. I wanted to yell at him, kick him again. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
He opened his arms as if to shrug. “Let me help you.”
“No. It is all your fault that I am lost. You stole my map. You are a thief.” I said stoutly, still breathing heavily. “Go away and leave me alone.”
He shook his head. “I am not a thief.”
“You are too.”
“Fine. Say what you must about me. But please, let me help you. I know the way around here and you do not.”
I didn’t say a ward. I was still angry with him, but something in me told me to go with him. But how did I know he was telling the truth? He had stolen my map. How could I trust him?
A few minutes ticked by as we both stood looking back at each other. He seemed to be as angry with me as I was towards him. After a while I gave him my back, picked up my wet sun hat and limped across the courtyard. When I reached the streets I turned to look over my shoulders. He was gone.
I felt somewhat alone and very lost. Night was drawing close the darkness was just on the horizon. The sun had set, but the air was still hot and humid. I didn’t know the way back. I couldn’t go alone in the dark. As much as I hate to admit it, I needed the stranger’s help.
Sighing I turned and retraced my steps. He was just outside the courtyard door.
The walk through the town was a loud and long one, even though we didn’t speak to each other. He asked me where I lived, and I grudgingly mumbled the name of the hotel. His face brightened and he gave a small smile that was rather charming.
“What is your name?” He asked softly.
“Why do you want to know my name?” I asked stopping short. He stopped and looked back at me, the smile disappearing. He was still carrying the basket on his shoulder.
He shrugged. “I was just asking.” He said. “My name is Salem. What is yours ?”
“Katia.” We resumed walking. Auntie told me once when I was a little girl, that when she and Uncle met, he asked her her name. And they married. I was very cautious of telling the stranger boy, Salem, my name. I did not know him, and I did not like him.
Arriving at the Pension Royal he left me at the double doors. He said his farewell and I watched him leave. I hurried upstairs ignoring the shocked look from the bellboy. I turned the door handle and it was open.
There stood my uncle. Tall and blonde, towering over me with a look of relief on his handsome face.
“Katia. Darling.” Was all he could say.
I must look a sight. Drenched and looking half dead. Just then Auntie came up behind him. Her eyes grew wide and her hands flew to her mouth.
“Katia! What happened to you? We have been so worried.” She cried.
Uncle opened the door and pulled me inside. All I could do was apologize over and over to them. I took a hot bath, changed into suitable clothes and sat on the langue to listen to a long lesson on obeying and being careful in this foreign country.
“The streets of Rio is not the place to play a game of tag.” Auntie said. I listened carefully, trying to remember what they told me. They were like my true parents. My mother and father died in a Terrible tragic accident that led to many other deaths when I was no older then four years old. Auntie who was mother’s sister was heartbroken. Uncle convinced her to adopt me, and since then have been nothing other then loving caring parents.
They try to teach me good morals and raise me correctly. Uncle spoilt me with charming dresses and expensive perfume. He smolders me with hugs and kisses and has turned me into his pet. Auntie complains that he spoiled me too much, but she is no less guilty of such crimes. I live in the rich loving bosoms of the two best souls in the world. And I try to stay charming and enchanting. Lacking nothing of grace.
But today that strange boy ruined everything.








I woke up in the middle of the night. All was dark and quiet, except for the sound of the city down below. The curtains at my window fluttered in the breeze like thin ghost. I had left it open for some fresh air. Sweat poured down my body and my heart thumped in my chest. The sheets were tangled around my legs.
I had had another dream. I’ve been having very vivid dreams, and when I wake up expecting them to be true all I see is blackness. The dreams seemed so real. Much more real then life. They were trying to tell me something, but what? All they did was haunt me and deprive me of sleep. What if I told people about the dreams. They would Either laugh or call me delusional.
This time the dream was very strange, stranger than usual, and for the first time ever the world seemed to scream a strange message to me.
It had begun like the rest always started. A giant clock, taking on the likeness of the Bell Tower, struck out the forth hours with its giant hands. It echoed through the night, scattering the doves from the black crocked tress. A girl walked slowly toward a large gold throne. She stared into the eyes of the one who sat upon it, and then fell to her knees. The heavy folds of her majestic gown spread about her like waves of white snow. It was as if she had been transformed into a white swan.
That was the dream I dreamt on that hot night.
Morning dawn settled over the city and the mist lifted. I awoke and got dressed in one of my casualties that still remained stunning. It was a charming little dress Uncle had gotten me for my last birthday when we spent it at the shores of China. I loved to wear it, and Auntie said that it made me look even more glamorous.
I met Uncle in the kitchen grabbing a drink of water.
“Oh, good morning my pet.” He said cheerfully. “I’ve got a lovely breakfast coming up here in a while. Are you ready to eat?”
“Yes, sir.” I answered stoutly in rapid French.
Uncle gave me a rather withering look. “French again so soon?”
“Yes. I am quite tired of trying Spanish. It is not my kind.”
“But it is the language of the country.”
“Not my country.” I smiled, finally finding something to trap him in. “It is the language of a foreign country of which I do not belong.”
“Of which you are visiting.” He pointed out, equally saucy. Then his kind face soften up. “Katia, you must learn your Spanish correctly.”
“But you promised no lessons on this trip!” I wined poorly. “Spanish is horridly boring and does no good for me or my listeners concerning the things I say to them!”
It was a mistake to say that, because he stopped and frowned, tilting his head. “What kinds of things do you say to them?”
“Nothing.” I answered too quickly.
He frowned deeply at me.
“I—I just compliment their culture, that’s all.” I said.
“You are fibbing.” Uncle accused accurately. “Katia is fibbing again.”
Just then Auntie flowed into the room. “What about?”
“About Spanish.” Uncle said.
Auntie nodded my way as she patted her sleeping cap still on her head. “Oh? What about, doll?”
I shook my head and moved to sit on the settee. “Nothing at all, Auntie.” Just then a knock sounded at the door. I jumped to my feet. “Oh, there’s the breakfast .”
Over a breakfast of hotcakes and sausages and orange juice I asked about our schedule for the day.
Auntie’s blue eyes widened at my question. She gently chewed her mouth, then swallowed, and looked up at me.
“We, are to go to a ball!” She exclaimed.
“A ball!” I shrieked in disbelief. “A ball? Who is having a party, or shall I say, a ball?”
“The Lord of Rosetown is having a ball tonight starting around dusk. The party shall last till midnight!” She politely placed her utensils down and folded her hands in her lap. A look of pride and excitement came over her lovely face, and I was pleased to see her so happy.
My heart raised and I could hold it in no longer. “What is it Auntie? Are we all invited?”
She glance at Uncle and he winked back blue eyes. “We are all invited.” She said turning back to me. “Now, after breakfast we are going to the river on a little sight seeing, and your Uncle wants to see the Room of Arts before we come home. Then, we shall get some maids up here and help us prepare for the ball.” She pulled back and picked up a piece of sausage with her fork and put it in her mouth. She chewed for a while, she share waved an annoying hands when I kept staring at her in shock.
“Hurry up and eat. We have a busy day to get to.”
The tour on the river was very charming. We hired a man that took us out through the city on his floating raft. My sunhat flapped against my warm skin in the breeze. Markets and colorful houses lined the sides of the river. Red, yellow, white, red brown. It went on and on. Row after row of beautiful ancient buildings. My head tilted back to the sky. It was a bright day. White puffy clouds floated overhead, casting shadows down at us. Slim, native palm trees swayed in the wind at some places, and the air was thick and moist.
I was mesmerized by the beauty of things. At one point I spotted some brown children running between the houses with their dogs. They called out to us in Spanish.
“Americanos!”
“Americanos!”
But I only smiled and waved. I have heard of “Americanos” but have never really came in direct contact with one. It was said that they were awful forward and pushy.
Soon the ride on the river was more torturous than fun. The day grew hotter, bugs pestered us nonstop and I got several bites from large flies. The tour guide spoke very little French. Father talked to him in Spanish, but I didn’t know enough to understand most of what they were saying. Soon the man began to hum to himself, then his voice rose into a long song that lasted till we came to our stop.
At midday the river tour was finished. We walked through courtyards that held beautiful plants and fountains. A trip outside of the city was a good experience. It was not a noisy place and the air was clean. We watched men march and show of the best horses in the country. Uncle placed me on a black champion with hard intense eyes. The animal was beautiful. To my delight, I was allowed to trot around the green fields for a while. The feeling of the wind in my hair was wonderful. I can’t express it.
After seeing the horses we hopped into a taxi that took us to a little cafe’ in the middle of town. It was a lovely little place that smelled like fresh fruits and coffee. My stomach gurgled very unladylike manner.
The sun climbed up higher in the sky, shooting hotter rays down at us. Moisture formed on my skin and I grew hot. I was happy when Auntie finally decided to go home.
“It is too hot today.” She said fanning herself with her hat. She glanced pleadingly up at Uncle. “We can see the Room of Arts tomorrow, no? I am afraid Katia will faint in this heat. Look at her. She is all red and flushed.”
Uncle nodded his head in consent. “You are right, Anastasia. Let us go home.”
You could not imagine my relief.












2
The Blood in the Punch




Are you ready for your dress, my lady?”
I turned at the maid’s voice. She was a dark young woman with big brown eyes that blinked in earnest.
“Uh, yes, Maria.” I said, recognizing her from the day before when she brought extra fans to our room. “Please do bring it. I’m dying to put it on!”
“Well then, Miss, I shall be fetching it.” She quickly hurried off.
The other two maids who were helping Auntie with her hair and preparation exited the room as well. It was only Auntie and me. I studied her carefully from my place at the full length mirror. Oh, Auntie was most lovely. She was in her bloomers and girdle, sitting gently on her stool. Thick golden hair was pulled back from her face and held in soft piles at the back of her head. Little ringlets framed her heart shaped face, showing of her perfectly crimson skin. Like me, she smelled like rose water.
Just then the door opened and the maids returned, carrying two gowns.
“Here we are.” Exclaimed Maria rather gayly.
My jaw dropped in wonderment at the sight of the dresses. “Oh! Oh, Auntie! They’re simply fabulous. Oh just look at them!”
Auntie chuckled lightly. “I knew you would like them dear. Now, the powder blue one is yours and I shall have the white. I also bought some lovely heels.”
I was floating on air. I was so excited my stomach felt like a whirlpool. Martha assisted me into my dress. It was beautiful. The blue was soft and showed off the rich blond highlights in my hair. I refused to have my hair up in a style. “Just braid it in a loose plait.” I told Maria. And she did. After a long argument over the ideas.
When we were done dressing up we stood back and looked at me in the mirror. I nearly shrieked. I could barely recognize myself.
Under layers of lipstick my Cupid lips were bright cherry red, my eyelashes thick and black with mascara. The heels made me taller by a whole three inches. I ran my fingers over the black embroidered flowers and leaves on the front of my dress. It was beautiful. I looked charming.
Turning I gave Auntie a tight embrace. “Thank you, Auntie.”
When Uncle saw us he was baffled. “ Excuse me, lovelies, but you’ve got the wrong room!” He exclaimed rather seriously.
I giggled. “Uncle it is us!” I told him. Then I laughed again at the shocked look on his face.
“Who!” He crooked.
I ran to jump into his arms and squeeze his neck. “It is me. Your pet!”
Humorous recognition crossed his face rapidly. He threw back his head and laughed. “I knew it was you. I was only playing.”
“You didn’t recognize me at first did you?” I asked.
“Why of course I did, Pet.”
“Do you like my dress, Uncle?”
“Lovely, darling.” His blue eyes ran over my face. “Just lovely.”
Somewhat those wards always touch me deeper then usual. It almost made me want to tell him about my strange dreams. But somehow they always seemed far off in the daylight, but I could still feel a strange pull. No. I wouldn’t tell Uncle now.
In a rush of feelings I reached out to kiss him. He gave me his cheek, then his other cheek. I was about to repeat the cycle when he suddenly stopped and my third kiss landed smack on his mouth!
“Ick!” I cried out, pulling away.
He snickered. “Got you again!” And began to wipe the lip lipstick from his cheeks.
As long as I can remember , he has always done that. I didn’t like it sometimes.
Just then Auntie came into the room with her mink’s stool round her shoulders. She handed me mine.
“You two stop kissing. We have a party to get to.” She demanded.
Uncle held the door open and we hurried outside.