14.2 Infidel

A highly polished wooden floor and a padded counter, red velvet comfortable chairs in a small lobby at the entrance. Maria entered with her large tote bag on her shoulder. Lady at the counter greeted and motioned her to go in. Maria crossed an open communal area with shiny tiles and pot plants, mostly leopard lily, to the corridor that led to Calima’s room. She knocked and entered. Glass doors and wooden furniture, a shiny big bathroom and an open-air patio, again with leopard lily plants under a red canvas.

“Hola Maria!” she greeted and picked a red button-up shirt from the bed, “I thought I’d give you this and these white pants.”

“It is bright red,” cried Maria in her soft tone, “I don’t think I’d wear that.”

“It is brand new. I never wore this shirt. Polyester with mesh lining and very comfortable. Stüssy, a US brand.”

“Short sleeves! Not my taste!”

“And here is a trolley for you,” Calima touched a pink travel bag on the floor.

“Are you giving me that?”

“This is for you.”

“Cal,” articulated Maria sitting down on the bed, “my office told me about that casino. You remember! Those guys are opening a new one at Puerto Madero. That top guy, Wolfgang Alvieri, is behind it.”

“Didn’t they go bankrupt?” Calima took her dress from the wardrobe, a Prussian blue flare dress.

“No. There seems to be some new rule and new policies applied to a casino area over there in Puerto Madero. I don’t have the details but Emilio said it’s like a floating boat casino.” Maria bounced on the bed relaxingly to feel its comfort. She wore the same blue shirtdress as this morning with half sleeves.

Calima got dressed and ready, sprayed perfume and said, “It is seven. Let’s go to the pool side and have a drink before he comes.”

Located in trendy Palermo Soho, on Guatemala, off Raúl Scalabrini Ortiz, this private villa served as a boutique and spa hotel. A façade that looked narrow with glass-fitted iron doors of unique design. Warm lights lit the upfront and a tree on the sidewalk fenced with a tiled masonry base. Jamal Carreon stepped into the light and stopped in hesitation to notice a placard with a wide schoolbook ‘H’ on it like a buckle on a belt – it kicked him in the gut.

By the tables at the restaurant that was actually located in a separate ground open to the hotel backyard, Maria Taylor was showing some tango steps. A band was getting ready to play milonga music with their bandoneóns.

“Watch me!” said Maria standing beside the table, “Step, step, step, pause! Drag! Knees close and pause! Now you do it!”

Calima tried and did brilliantly. She got that sensual flow.

Maria chanted, “Outstanding!” She gave a few lessons of the first steps holding hands. Calima was three inches taller than Maria.

Jamal Carreon entered wearing a jacket that he bought that evening because he had to attend dinner.

Calima decided that three of them fly to Colombia and tell nobody until after. She said she would cover all their expenses. Jamal had to wait another three or four days to get travel documents out from the embassy after the weekend. It was 23^rd Friday.

Jamal Carreon picked Maria Taylor and began to dance a tango. She was nine inches shorter than him. There were other couples dancing on the floor. The band began to play a song titled ‘Contrabando y traición’ and written by Ángel González. 

 

She was fluent in Spanish but she never heard this song. For some reason, it caught in her ear. They played this song three times that night on requests. For one thing she kept humming that line, “Emilio dice a Camelia…” and failed to hear a faint tap on the door.

Maria entered the room and closed the door behind. She wore the red shirt and white pants, pulling the pink trolley and a black bag on her shoulder.

“You look beautiful!” acclaimed Calima and reached to correct its short sleeve that cut open like caps.

“Yeah, I thought to wear them,” Maria Taylor blushed a little.

They locked the room and left with the bags to the lobby to wait in the tiny bar beside the front hall for Jamal Carreon. She arranged to keep the room and luggage here while they toured to Colombia.

Soon, they left in a taxi to Ezeiza International Airport to catch the Avianca flight.

They landed at El Dorado to witness for themselves a lot of military activities going on, including Hercules aircrafts on the tarmac.

“American,” elucidated Jamal Carreon, “They use this airport for military purpose. US is helping fight against the drug cartels.”

“It is war!” exclaimed Calima.

“Yes, it’s war.”

While looking into a Bogotá map on the flight, they decided to stay in the historic area and close to Santa Fe. In fact, it was downtown Santa Fe where the city of Bogotá began. At an information counter, they booked Hotel Saint James and took a cab.

At Hotel Saint James, Maria and Calima were ushered to a twin room as they assumed but it came with a double bed. “Are you okay with this?” doubted Calima.

“Fine,” mumbled Maria.

It was a budget hotel, a small room and smaller was the bathroom, though very clean and fresh with a long communal balcony outside the French windows.

“Where do we start?” asked Calima.

“Plaza Bolívar is five minutes’ walk.”

“What is that place?”

“It’s the main square of the city.”

“Alright, we go there.”

They stepped out and Calima uttered, “Oops! It’s cold!” Five o’clock in the afternoon and the temperature kept falling. And before they knew where they were going, they were in the square. “This is it! This is the square!”

 “Indeed, it’s a square,” cried Maria, “an old church and historic buildings.”

“Graffiti on the walls!”

“This is the statue of Simón Bolívar.”

“Who’s that?” hissed Calima.

“He was the Venezuelan military leader who liberated countries around here from the Spanish Empire; Colombia, Venezuela, Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador, Panama…”

“Wow!”

A sudden downpour slammed on them and drenched. There was no place to run.

“We must always carry an umbrella. It rains without a warning,” Maria groused.

“Look at you!” Calima laughed, “White panties under white pants. It shows. You are wearing SATURDAY!”

Maria smiled, “No, I missed the order.”