A Pair of Wings

“Right this way please everyone. This way towards the dungeon.”

The heat that morning was unbearable. It seemed to have ignited Laura’s mother and her aunt. The two were dressed in brightly colored sundresses that matched the walls of the city. Both had on wide brimmed hats and matching bags. They were buzzing from the moment their plane left JFK airport. “Laurita smile! You finally get to see where your family comes from!” Laura was excited too she really was. She just wished her grandmother could be here with her.

Her mother had woken her up early that morning with a full itinerary scheduled for the day. Laura’s mother lived for schedules. Breakfast began exactly at 6:30 am. Her mother wanted to make the most of their first day by covering all of the touristy spots. By the time Laura made it downstairs her mother, aunt and cousin were already waiting in the lobby with an arepa wrapped in a napkin for her. They had a walking tour of the walled city scheduled for 7:30 am. Lunch was at a local restaurant. Laura could not fathom how her mother and aunt devoured their boiling hot soup in 100-degree weather. The tour at the Palace of the Inquisition was in Laura’s opinion a mistake. Her grandmother had warned her against being outside in midday.

“Come everyone. This way. In here is where they would put one sometimes two hundred people in shackles to await their trial.”

The sun was directly over Laura’s head and burned deep into her skin as she followed the guide down into a cellar. She had made sure to wear light clothes that morning, even though her preferred outfit was all black. She tried to change the time of the tour, but her mother insisted it would be fine seeing as the museum was mostly indoors. “You aren’t going to melt Laura.” “Yes. Yes I am.” Laura wore one of her mother’s hats and sunglasses and slathered her skin with extra coats of sun block. The sun still scorched and baked right through her. Her clothes were drenched in sweat.

“The majority of the prisoners were mostly women.” Their tour guide, Omar, was old. He said he knew every story you could think of about the city. The way he dressed, in a light and airy button down shirt with slacks reminded Laura of her grandfather. But the way he spoke and the color of his skin was exactly like her grandmother. Skin the color of canela, cinnamon, her grandmother would say in an accent that sings.

“Excuse me did you say women?”

“Yes. That’s right women were often brought here first before being tortured.” Omar the tour guide’s eyes glistened with excitement because Laura was asking questions.

Laura looked around the small brick room hidden underneath the courtyard. She couldn’t breathe properly, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Was she the only one suffocating? There were only nine other people standing in the cellar with her how was it possible to fit up to two hundred people?

“Why mostly women?” She had folded the map into a makeshift fan and flapped her fan at record speed.

“Because they were accused of being brujas, witches.” Omar opened his eyes wide at that last word.

“Witches!? Like flying on broomsticks witches?” Her cousin Alejandro looked up from his phone with a raised eyebrow.

“What don’t you believe in witches?” Omar wrinkled his forehead as he asked Alejandro.

“I mean I guess you can say Laura’s a witch.” Alejandro laughed. Laura shoved her elbow hard into his boney rib and he cackled more.

“Her favorite color is black. She hates men, she practically worships the full moon and burns her sage thing.”

“Why are you even here right now?” Laura swung her arm towards him and missed.

“Don’t start you two.” Their mothers warned.

“There are signs of witches all over Cartagena. You just have to know where to look.” Omar lowered his voice, put his hands behind his back and walked out of the dark cellar. “Come. I want to show you something.”

Alejandro brought his finger to his temple and twirled it around before following Omar outside.

“What do you see up there young man?”

Alejandro followed Omar’s outstretched hand.

“Um the balcony?” Alejandro brought his arm up to shield his eyes from the sun. He had lost his sunglasses earlier on the first tour.

“Yes, but it’s not just any balcony. Laura! What is different about this balcony?”

Laura looked up and studied the balcony Omar pointed out. It looked like every other balcony that decorated the city. Cartagena was famous for them. There were long ones and short ones, brightly colored ones with flowers overflowing. There were blue balconies attached to pink buildings and pink balconies on blue buildings. Some had their doors wide open that you could hear the music dancing down into the street or smell something frying in the kitchen. Others were shut with tall doorways leaving you guessing what was just inside. Laura squinted her eyes and studied the wooden beams at the bottom of this particular balcony Omar pointed at. It didn’t stand out like the others. She counted the poles and the bars. Her eyes roamed over the railing, up the banister and counted the ceramic tiles on top until she noticed one thing.

“It’s pointy.”

“The point! Great eye my friend. You see that edge? The pointed ceramic tile at the very end that looks like a spike. They built the balconies that way to make sure the witches couldn’t escape at night.” Omar studied their faces. “They believed their spirits would get stuck and hang there.”

Alejandro raised his eyebrow. “How would they even know?”

“Ah they say if you see a barn owl perched on one of the points, then a witch has successfully escaped.”

“An owl?”

“Oh yes. If you see an owl in Cartagena, it only means one thing.” Omar lowered his voice and raised his hands for dramatic effect, “A witch is nearby.”

“Laura saw an owl this morning!” Alejandro pointed his finger, “You really are a witch!” Laura rolled her eyes and grit her teeth.

Omar looked between the two cousins who acted more like siblings. “This one gets you into trouble a lot I see.” Omar’s shoulders shook when he laughed, “follow me to the next room then. I want to show you something.” He placed his hands behind his back and motioned for the group to follow.

They shuffled forward and Laura was grateful to be out of the sun. The first thing she heard when she stepped out of the courtyard and entered the exhibit was the hum of the air conditioner. The amount of relief she experienced just feeling the cool air was enough to make her cry. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark room. It smelled old. There were glass cases along the back wall. One of them had a collection of books. The larger case had what Laura could only assume to be ancient animal traps of some kind.

“You like to read?” Omar asked Alejandro.

“Not really no.”

Omar studied him, “Hmm well if you were caught reading these books you would be brought here. And this device is what they would use to torture the women accused as witches.” Omar walked over to the animal traps. “They would take this metal object and place it around their neck.“ Laura immediately brought her hands to her throat.

“The idea was to get the women to confess to their crimes of being a witch. You see any woman who was caught using herbs for medicine or burning plants such as sage would be labeled a witch. That woman would immediately be classified as a threat to society. So they would bring her here.”

“Mom did you know about this!?” Laura demanded. Her mother and aunt had been taking turns photographing themselves so they could post on their social media.

“What? Oh yes yes. They would teach us about the history of the brujas, the witches, in school.”

“What?” Laura gaped.

“Cartagena’s history is full of magical stuff like witches, pirates, folklore. You know all that stuff you like Laura.” Her aunt stretched out her arm and took a selfie.

Laura tuned out the guide. She tuned out her mother, her aunt and cousin. She found herself standing in front of the glass case fixated on the sage stick that looked similar to the one she used at home sometimes after her morning yoga routine. The sign next to the case explained everything Omar had just said. Herbs were banned. Burning sage was grounds for being brought in for questioning.

“But that’s not fair!” Laura turned around and Omar smirked.

“That was life back then.” Omar danced on the balls of his feet. His arms remained clasped behind his back. “A strong woman was a dangerous woman. A woman who relied on her intuition was a dangerous woman. A woman who knew the ways of our people,” Omar stared deep into Laura’s eyes, “The ancient ways brought over from Africa. The ways of the natives on this land,” He stood firm and pointed at the ground, “was a dangerous woman. Powerful. Yet classified as dangerous.”

“How many women would win their trial?” Laura shivered.

“Almost none. See just by someone calling you a witch was enough to justify torture and murder. Very much like what your cousin did earlier in the courtyard.”

“Okay Witch. Let’s go next exhibit! I want to see the guillotine.” Alejandro poked Laura and went into the next room.

Laura was stunned. She wanted to call her grandmother and ask her a million questions. What did she know about the witches? Why did they mistreat women like this? How many innocent people died?

She couldn’t shake off the feeling that crept deep in her belly. Not even after they finished touring the Palace of the Inquisition and Omar invited them to take a tour of his home town of Palenque. The feeling remained even when they went back to the hotel and Alejandro and her mother and aunt were all swimming in the pool. Laura had refused to indulge in the fun.

She took a sip of lulo juice and excused herself from the pool.

The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. “Hello.”

“Grandma!”

“Laura! Tell me everything how was your first day in my city?” She could hear the smile.

“Grandma did you know they used to kill and burn women here?!” Laura paced around the room.

“So you went to the Palace of the Inquisition today.” She could hear her grandmother’s tv in the background and could suddenly picture her clearly. She could see her grandmother resting on her rocking chair in her apartment in Queens. Her wheelchair close by. The tv turned onto the baseball game. And her grandmother waving her fist at the tv every time her team struck out.

“Grandma they would burn them! For using sage!? For just about anything! And the owls!?”

Her grandmother laughed a deep laugh on the other end.

“Who told you about the owls?”

“The guide was from Palenque.”

“Who? Did you get his last name? Maybe I know his family.”

“No grandma only his first name. Omar. But Omar said that the owls-”

“Are special.” Her grandmother interrupted. “If you see an owl it’s a good sign. It’s luck. It's magic. And they are special messengers carrying messages from the other side.”

“From what side?” Laura flung herself onto to the bed. “I wish you were here with me grandma. So you could show me all the places you’ve always told me about. Your house, your school, your favorite park! That part on the walled city you used to run across when your friends would dare you. All of it.”

“My bones won’t let me travel now Laurita. But I’m there with you in spirit. Right now! Do me a favor okay? Please don’t fight with your cousin. Don’t let your mother work at all on this trip. And one more thing. Pay attention now because this is very important. Tomorrow, when you go visit my sister, pull her to a side and remind her to give you my little box. Okay? She’ll understand what you mean.”

“Okay. I love you grandma.”

“I love you too! Now get off this phone and go outside and enjoy my city. You still have two legs that work right? What are you doing laying down?” Laura jumped up off the bed. “Grandma how did you kn—“

Her grandmother’s laugh boomed on the other end, “A grandma always knows. Now go!”

______

They had spent the entire second day exploring the shops and cafes. Laura had wandered into a bookstore that served the most delicious cup of coffee she had ever tasted. She had picked up a few items in the shops. Her mother and aunt went a little overboard buying for others back home. But Laura was most excited to visit her great aunt.

She lived outside of the walled city. The family no longer lived inside the walls. Her grandmother had explained that the city itself was not the same anymore. “It’s all for tourists now!” She had yelled and shook her fist with a deep crease in her brow.

The drive took a half hour. All four of them climbed out of the cab and stood in front of an older looking mint green home. There was a tall white gate surrounding it. Laura could see right through. Every door and window were wide open. She could see a rocking chair moving ever so slightly. There was music playing from somewhere deep in the house. She could smell something warm, something fried inviting her in.

“My children! Welcome home!” A small voice called out from inside. “Come in! Come in!”

One by one they walked through the entrance. Her mother and aunt flung themselves onto their mother’s sister, eyes full of emotion. Her Great Aunt Mimi was thin and frail looking but strong enough to hold her two grown nieces. Laura studied her. Her hair was white as snow and matted high up into a bun. She wore a light peach colored dress. She had on slippers like the pair her grandmother owned for her broken feet. That’s what her grandmother would say anyway. Her Great Aunt Mimi pinched and pulled at her and Alejandro’s cheeks. Saying how much they looked like this cousin and that cousin and this nephew and that niece.

There were children running in and out of the house. People kept coming over to greet them. Laura later found out they were all somehow related to her. There were just too many names to remember. She made a mental note to map out a family tree later.

Someone had pulled out an old album. Laura was mesmerized by all the old photographs. There were pictures of her mother and aunt in schoolgirl uniforms. There were pictures of old birthday parties and family gatherings. Photos spanned the decades. She flipped through the albums until she found a photo of a girl that looked somewhat like herself.

“Aunt Mimi who is this?”

“What don’t you recognize her?” Aunt Mimi smiled and laughed a deep laugh. It was deeper than her grandmothers. Mimi used to roll tobacco leaves for a living to make cigars. She was 94 years old and still rolling her own tobacco. “That’s your grandmother! You know you look alike!”

“Aunt Mimi. My grandma told me to ask you for—” Mimi’s smile widened, and she interrupted Laura. “That’s right child. That’s right. I know what my sister asked. Pass me my cane.” Mimi pointed to the wooden cane resting nearby.

“Come child. Help me stand.” Mimi motioned with her hands. Laura jumped up and was surprised again by the strength in Mimi’s grip. She studied her fingers. They looked just like her grandmother’s, slender and painted red.

“You tell her I almost kept it for myself.”

“Kept what?”

“You’ll see.” Mimi laughed and the two walked over to her bedroom. Mimi eased herself onto her bed. “These bones don’t work like they used to anymore.” She smiled. “You see that drawer over there?” She pointed her cane out over to the little dresser drawer by her bed. “Open it.”

Laura walked over and pulled the brass handle. Her grandmother had an identical drawer back home in Queens. Aunt Mimi’s had hers organized differently of course, but both were very neat.

“In the very back. Reach your hand in. Do you see the little box?” Laura saw prayer cards. She saw about a dozen rosaries. She saw old postcards, a pen, some menthol ointment identical to the red bottle her grandmother used for her joints. She paused when she saw a sage stick.

“Did you find it?”

Her hands reached back and pulled out a small box.

“This?”

“That’s the one. Come bring it to me.” Mimi pointed to the empty spot on the bed beside her.

“I know you wish my sister were here. I miss her too you know.” Mimi chuckled. “Our bones don’t work like they used to. But we women are special. You want to know why? We don’t need our bones or our feet to move around. We have something else. Something better. We have wings.” Laura was worried Aunt Mimi was losing her mind.

“Wings?”

“That’s right. Don’t you ever forget. In this life. You must follow the signs.” Mimi shook her hand at her and spoke in a booming tone. Laura’s eyes bulged. “Yes Aunt Mimi. I know. Follow the signs.”

“Yes. Follow the signs and fly. Here open it.”

Laura wanted to tell her aunt she wished she knew how to fly. Flying sounded awesome. She would have flown to Queens picked up her grandmother and brought her back to Cartagena with her. But that wasn’t reality. That’s just wishful thinking. She took off the top of the box. And gasped.

Inside was a beautiful gold chain with a pendant.

“Now that you have your wings you better fly Laurita.”

Laura’s mind spun in a thousand different directions. She had so many questions. She wanted to know more about her history, her family, her grandmother’s stories. Her Aunt Mimi’s. The stories of Cartagena. Their Cartagena.

“Want me to put it on for you?”

“Yes please”

Mimi gently pulled back her hair and clasped the gold chain delicately around her neck. Laura turned around and faced her aunt. Mimi had a giant smile on her face and she kissed her fingers and placed them over the pendant.

Laura looked down and held it gently in her hand. It was gorgeous. It was so intricate. The details. She looked in the mirror and her own smile formed on her face.

“An owl pendant.” Laura whispered.

Mimi smiled.

“So you always remember to fly!”