In the short time since we had come to Rio I had picked up a few words of Spanish. The words she screamed was nothing I knew, but there was no mistaking the hysterical fear and anger in her voice. The hatred in her dark eyes was like nothing I had seen before. Not even in the glowing red eyes of my enemy. This was fanatical superstition. The one word I could pick out of the jumble coming out of her mouth was morte, death.
Jacob understood considerably more than I could and his eyes were alight with anger. His hand, grasping my own, shook with anger. Strangely I found myself unshaken by this torrent of hate. Oddly I even understood it. I couldn't bring myself to be angry at her. The fact that she even seemed to know what I was made me believe she knew. Knew something about who and what I was. I couldn't pass this chance up.
Crossing the few feet that separated us proved more difficult than I thought. Jacob wouldn't let go of my hand and when I did get him too the woman backed up until she stood against the wall of her home. It was like approaching a frightened animal, I could smell the fear on her. As I stepped closer she made the sign of a cross, warding me off. A sad smile tugged at my lips as I took the gnarled fingers in my own. She tried to jerk away but I held on.
At first my power terrified her, her eyelids fluttered and she was murmuring a prayer. The words a mantra. But the warmth and kindness I infused into the memories I had of my loved ones.
Mother's beautiful face when I met her for the first time, newly turned. The one memory I had of her still human, the moment of my birth and the pain I caused her, and the love I had for her even still. Father's face, so handsome and young. His innate goodness and love for his family. One after another I showed them to her. Grandpa Carlisle, Grandma Esme, Uncle Jasper, Aunt Alice, Uncle Emmett, and Aunt Rosalie. But, it was when showed her the face of my human grandfather, Grandpa Charlie that muttered prayer faltered, her eyes opened, and she stared incredulously into my own eyes. Brown meeting brown in awe a budding and uncertain friendship beginning.
She murmured something in Spanish, freeing her hands, to cup my chin. Her gaze searched me, finding a far kinder soul than any stories had led her to believe. Closing my eyes I took her hands again and showed her my family, tinging it with my grief and loss. Tears stung my eyes as she gathered me close, crooning softly in her language. Grief is an unexpected thing, it hits at times where you don't expect it. The tears came unbidden, she said nothing. Only hummed a lullaby as she rocked my small body. It was a motherly touch, a parental touch, I hadn't realized till now just how much I ached for it. I loved Jacob with all my heart but I wanted a mom.
I cried myself out, the woman didn't stop me, she just hummed and rocked, stroking my long hair. By the time I lifted my head she merely smiled down at me. Pointing at my chest I told her my name and Jacob's, he was watching us with apprehension. Trust didn't come easy.
Now that the wall was broken she had us call her Abuela. Inviting us inside we found she lived alone. In short time she provided us with food. Although we had no common tongue there was much warmth in her small house. I felt more at home there than I had since that terrible day, which felt so long ago now.
Only after all the plates were scrapped clean and tummies full did she ask us why we were here. She was no simpleton, she had gleaned that much from our silent communication. The simplest method to tell her was me. She didn't shy away from me anymore. Pulled me onto her lap and let me show her. When her eyes opened she nodded. Speaking slowly she looked at Jake. He nodded, face screwed up in concentration as he tried to understand her words.
"She says... there's a cave.. outside the village. A monster was born there."