Part Nine: Changes in Circumstances
Constancia was pacing the room when Magdalena awoke a few hours later. "I brought a tray for you." She said, noticing Magdalena had awoken. She brought it over. It was soup and rice, with water on the side. She ate slowly, savoring the food. Constancia perched on the foot of the bed. "This must be the last time I do something like this," she began, "for you must remember that you are my new maid. It is critical for someone in hiding to never reveal that this is not their proper station. You must not let on how much you know about anything besides, oh, I don't know, ladies' dresses and such. Some people do educate their servants, but that fact is still not shouted everywhere. If someone speaks to you say as little as possible. Always make it apparent that you are a servant. Try to direct all questions to me." She spoke hurriedly in a quiet voice. "We want to keep you safe, you must believe that and trust me, Miranda," she entreated.
Magdalena wished very strongly that she had met Constancia before now. She looked to be a wonderful woman, and a very good person to call friend.
"I'll remember that," she said. "And everything you told me."
Constancia smiled. "As I said, I don't want you mixing with the servants; they'd spot you in a minute. You'll have to sleep on the couch. I'd give you the bed but a maid could come in early tomorrow and it wouldn't do for you to occupy my bed. Help me out of my dress, please." She finished quickly, not seeming to take one breath.
The next day passed slowly, filled with Constancia giving her directions and providing her with better clothes. At night they finalized her disguise. As planned, her hair as pulled back to her neck, covering her ears, and pinned tightly there. Also on her head she planned to regularly wear a gray hat, of the type that Inez had worn that day in Los Angeles. Then came loose, plain dresses and skirts with blouses.
"You don't quite look the maid still. Maybe we'll go with spinster cousin once in Monterey." Constancia said thoughtfully. "At any rate, I am satisfied with my work. You look typically plain, and that is a hard feat to achieve." She sighed. "We leave tomorrow afternoon. I'm sorry that you must take yet another voyage, but it cannot be avoided. The instant you leave this house you'll be recognized. The Eagle sees everywhere—but we see more, a fact that comforts me greatly."
Indeed, Magdalena found it hard to willingly walk up the gangplank to the ship. The carriage ride there had been tense enough. Though the carriage was a closed one, she had kept her head down the whole way, instinctively. Being out in Mexico City again paralyzed her, and she was reluctant to look through the windows, afraid of what and who she might see.
With a deep, calming breath, Magdalena forced herself up the gangplank, following Constancia, and her duena with her own, separate maid. They were led to two adjoining cabins, both a far cry from the one Magdalena had most recently traveled in. Once they had cast off, Constancia started writing madly. "Instructions to be posted once we reach San Pedro. This trip gives me valuable time to catch up on various correspondences."
Constancia's duena was an old aunt named Maria, who was almost deaf, and slept half the time. "She is perfect; always there for propriety's sake but never interrupting." She said as she started on yet another letter. "I brought lots of paper," she said and thrust a few sheets at Magdalena. "You may use some." And that was the last time Constancia spoke to her that day. There wasn't a formal dinner that night and Constancia only ate the orange from the tray sent to the cabin. She stayed up writing into the night, ignoring everything around her. Magdalena merely stared at the sheets of paper she'd been given and wondered if she would ever use them. She placed them with her things and tried to think of things other than capture.
That night, for the first time, Magdalena dreamt of Diego. He was striding across a crowded dance floor to her. She was wearing the white dress Pilar had spilled wine on, but it was clean now. She already had a partner, but she didn't care; she kept trying to get away from him, but she couldn't. Once Diego reached her side, her faceless partner had a death grip on her arm. Diego just looked at them. "I wonder why I bothered," he said, and walked away. Magdalena tried again to escape her partner but couldn't. his hand burned into her flesh, gripping her arm tighter and tighter, until she cried out.
It was that sound that awoke her. She jerked upwards, horror and fright still coursing through her. She knew she would sleep no more that night, so she climbed from the bed and paced the cabin. The moon was full again. She wished for fresh air but didn't dare go up on deck. Constancia appeared to be a heavy sleeper for Magdalena's cry hadn't woken her. Magdalena felt too alert to sleep again or even sit down. She dressed quickly, in dark clothes, deciding to go up on deck, just for a moment, after all.
She slipped from the cabin and hurried up the stairs. She'd just go up, smell the air and come back down. But when she reached the deck, she stopped. The stars were shining very brightly. She walked over to the rail and just stood there, staring up at the night sky's absolute splendor. She breathed in, delighting in the fresh sea air. A spray of water came up, splashing her in the face. A surprised, hushed laugh came forth from her. The night's peacefulness stayed with her as she descended below deck, to the cabin, to her bed. She slept deeply then, with no dreams.
Constancia woke her. "I need help with my gown," she said, a distracted look on her face. Magdalena sat up and quickly did the fastenings. "Gracias. I'm going up. You should stay here and mend this hem." Her brisk persona faded for a moment. "You are my maid."
Magdalena just nodded. Constancia smiled faintly and charged from the cabin, pausing briefly to grab Maria.
Magdalena got out of bed and dressed quickly, doing her hair in the plain style, and eating quickly. She then took the dress Constancia had pointed out, a day dress in green. She ran her fingers along the hem until she found the rip.
She started to sew, with careful stitches. She didn't really like sewing, but at least this was practical. She finished the hem and decided to go through Constancia's wardrobe, to see if anything else needed repair. All of Constancia's possessions seemed to be in excellent condition. There was a petticoat with a ripped seam—quickly repaired and set aside—but that was all. No loose buttons, no unraveling stitches marred any piece of her clothing. Magdalena placed the dress back on the trunk and stood. She was fairly certain that maids weren't really allowed on deck, so she knew she wouldn't leave the cabin.
Constancia finally reentered the cabin. Maria trailed behind her, looking exhausted.
"Today we eat in the dining room. I will need my best dress."
Her best dress was green silk, and very closely fitted. She wore it with long black gloves and very long mantilla.
It was odd to dress her in it, and to do her hair. While Constancia never made any orders, not really, she always phrased them as requests, Magdalena felt just a bit bitter, to see her look so elegant. It was the same feeling that had swept through her upon meeting the Verdugos.
Magdalena finished doing the tiny buttons on Constancia's gloves. "Gracias. I will see you later."
Maria had her own maid, Dulce, one almost as old as she was. She had only just finished dressing her mistress also, in a grey silk. Dulce had proven herself to be standoffish. She didn't seem to want to have anything to do with Magdalena and she puzzled over this fact for a while. She seemed to be in the midst of a sewing project and didn't like interruptions.
Constancia swept Maria from the room. Magdalena looked to Dulce, who had gone back to sewing.
"What are you making?" She inquired.
Dulce sighed at the interruption. "A gown for my granddaughter. She celebrates her second year soon."
"May I help with anything?" She asked.
"You could repair this dress of Maria's," and Dulce handed Magdalena an old looking dress. Magdalena paused for a bit, then decided Dulce was expecting her to leave. So she did.
Most of the voyage went that way, with Magdalena scrambling for something to do. Her days were filled with as much sewing as she could find, and she went upon deck during the night as much as was possible. Though she knew that Constancia always meant well, she was beginning to feel flashes of anger when Constancia gave her a request without so much as a second glance and she resented the fact that there was literally nothing for her to do but sew.
Dulce stayed closemouthed, but gradually started to allow Magdalena to stay in the room, and keep her company. They sewed together, in silent companionship most days for at least an hour. Constancia remained a whirlwind, dragging Maria all over the boat.
As they neared California, and Magdalena's thoughts turned increasingly to Diego, she started to dream about him almost every night. She'd wake up around midnight, gasping for breath, be the dream pleasant or terrifying. Almost always she'd get out of bed and make her way up on deck, and just breathe in the air for a while, stare up at the stars in admiration, and drink in the serenity being there brought her.
One day, while fastening Constancia's dress, Magdalena decided to ask her about Diego. "How well do you know him?"
Constancia shrugged. "Oh, my father and I would see him from time to time when we traveled through Los Angeles. Don Alejandro always asked us to dine with him. I used to a bit of a muchachota. We played together sometimes, when our parents were talking too long after dinner, we'd sneak away and climb trees. When we passed through Los Angeles most recently, it was to depose the commandante, for he was very corrupt."
"Capitan Monastario, you mean?"
"Si. Anyway, this Monastario was convinced that Diego was Zorro! He brought him out, dressed as Zorro, and unmasked him in front of us. It was ridiculous. Diego was so bewildered by the whole thing, but he was, of course, the perfect gentleman."
"Of course," Magdalena said softly. She finished doing the fastenings, and Constancia swept from the room. She slowly grew accustomed to Constancia's brusque manner. She had suddenly realized that it wasn't meant as a slight; she simply always had many things on her mind and could never fully concentrate on Magdalena.
And why should she? She must have many things much more important that me on her mind, Magdalena would think whenever Constancia was especially brusque or hurrying. The old anger would still appear, though, but not as often, and it always went quickly.
Then the news shouted that they'd reach San Pedro in two days time. Magdalena spent the whole day pacing, unable to sit still. California…here again. And Monterey, at that.