Chapter 6: Mystery Meetings and Musica at the Mercado

Chapter 6: Mystery Meetings and Musica at the Mercado
Friday finally, Emmeline's last day at the library this week.
As she put her book cart in order for shelving, she ruminated upon recent events...last night she'd stolen upstairs to the Closet. The Box with the Letters was now gone. Caramba...
What could it all mean? This particular trip down the rabbit hole was beyond puzzling. Daryl's rambling tales were enough to send her head spinning. She could make nothing of them at all, as yet.
She sighed, shelving the non-fiction;000-133's: speculation. She needed time alone with pen and paper to outline it all and try to diagram some semblance of hows, wheres and whys.
At her elbow she became aware then of a tall young man with a red shock of hair who looked vaguely familiar. He touched his cap and smiled with a slight bob.
'Afternoon, miss! I was wondering about this book, here...' He held a copy of Yeats's poems, and opened to the middle. Therein nestled an envelope. 'Perhaps you would know the proper place for it then!' And with another nod, he smiled and made his exit round the shelf.
Em was tempted to follow, but knowing Manuel was ever near, she stayed where she was and pocketed the paper for later perusal. Where had she seen that boy before? ...His identity escaped her at the moment, but she seemed to place him in Pankhurst.
Oh, for the day to be overwith and she could be alone with her thoughts at long last! And have a look at this note...
                           . . . .
Our Dear Emmeline, (it began),
Yeats here, my dear, but you probably discerned as much. Jack, Aleister and I have all been concerned for your well-being of late, but it seems that you are taking matters into your own hands as much as possible, for your own detective work perhaps.
Do take care, my dear. Daryl is an enigma to all, although I personally do not think him quite the sinister figure of Jack's speculation. Do as thou wilt. But know that we are keeping watch at your back, and will stand ever ready in case you have need of our aid.
Casey will act as our squire and you may trust him to secret any correspondence to us. You may find him lurking about the library on the odd day.
Meanwhile, good luck to you, my girl. Within the other enclosed envelope you will find such as may come in handy meanwhile.
Thinking of you always,
Your Obedient Servants,
Mr. Yeats, Aleister and of course, Jack.
Well! This was a welcome surprise! Em opened the smaller evelope folded within, and found--Oh, blessed wonders! Money! Some rather large denominations! Oh, thrice-blessed filthy lucre! She clutched it to her breast and teared up momentarily. Dear old Yeats, Al and Jack... Gracias Diosa!
Emmeline sighed with relief and dabbed her eyes with a hanky. Her shoulders relaxed at last and she sat upon her bed heavily. How good it was to still have friends...and, although she was at first surprised, (and, she hated to admit it, but she felt rather slighted to have found the note to be from Yeats, and not Jack),
she knew that she truly was glad that her formerly interferring knights in shining armor, were leaving her to her own devices, whilst offering their services, only if requested this time. Well,
it beats being abducted into a different timeline. She'd quite enough of that.
Em thought about it all for a moment, recalling some of Daryl's
loose lecture... She had presumed that she'd been thus sought after simply because she was her scientist fathers' daughter. But in light of Uncle Daryl's information, perhaps it was her mothers' bloodline that was equally coveted. By some.
She'd a sudden realization then: perhaps that was why her father had married her mother? A chilling thought. But one that should not be discounted, she told herself. But why, then, the animosity of her father toward herself? She'd always assumed he was simply grieving...but she knew he had never been much of a father figure.
He'd never been much about, at all, even when she was very young.
Em had located a loose floorboard underneath her rug and therein secreted the envelope with most of the money. She longed to save the note as well, but thought better of it. She would burn it soon as she may...
Opening her bedroom door, she peered into the hallway, listening.
No one seemed about at the moment, so she crept with the note pocketed, into the parlor. The fire had just been built up against the evenings' damp chill, and glancing over her shoulder, she tossed the note, dear and dangerous, into the flames. Watching it burn, she thought she heard distant voices...
She walked quietly to the back stairway. Yes. Daryl and Rosa seemed to be arguing about something. She took a couple of steps up the stairway, listening...they seemed to be outside the Closet.
'How came you by the box? All this was never to be out of my chambers! Whatever were you thinking to bring it in here!?' Daryl seemed to be angry. She'd never really seen him thus. Menacing, yes...but not angry.
Rosa murmured something about thinking it was only boots, hats, clothing which he, himself, Don Diego, had ordered her to gather in here for Emmeline's perusal...they spoke together again, Daryl gruffly, Rosa apologetically, and Em heard Daryl's boots upon the hallway then. She backed quietly down the steps and headed into the parlor...
Hmmm...so it was Rosa who put the Box there, not Daryl. He certainly did not want Emmeline to find it. Was it only Rosa's innocent mistake then, or something else? Did Rosa wish her to see something that Daryl would not approve of? Em was consumed with curiousity about the bloody Box now...and Rosa as well.
                              . . . .
Sundays boasted a sort of bustling Farmers Market about the local square and Emmeline wheedled a morning out shopping with Rosa from Daryl's efficient stewardship. Naturally, however, Manuel was also dispatched to offer 'help'...
The trio strolled about the market booths full of new fall bounty; apples and squashes were coming in now. My, how fast has flown this year, Emmeline allowed, eyeing the cornucopia of produce. The women gaily loaded dour Manuel's arms with netted bags full of groceries and he dutifully trudged to and fro, loading the carriage with provender.
'Oh, pumpkin empanadas, already!' Rosa eagerly headed to the baker's booth, with Em closely upon her heels. Em treated Rosa and Manuel to the tasty Mexican tarts and they enjoyed a moment together, seated upon a bench with their baker's booty. 'Umm, not bad!' Em admitted. 'I bet you could do better, though, Rosa!'
'Rosa makes the best empanadas,' Manuel deigned to open his mouth for more than a bite. Em smiled. She rarely heard this taciturn Indian offer his opinion.
'I thank you, Manuel.' Rosa surveyed her pastry. 'I could make a lighter crust, I do believe. You know what is best though? Pumpkin tamales, with chilies!'
'Umm. Si. Tamales de Calabasa...' Manuel got a dreamy look in his eyes, like some men do when thinking of their beloved.
'That sounds delicioso!' Em agreed. 'Do we have the ingredients?'
Rosa became animated. 'Well...let's see..we will need cuaresemeno, jalapeno chilies...and epazote leaves...' They all paused and sat silently a moment.
'Calabasas,' said Manuel. They looked at each other and laughed.
'Alright then!' Em decided. 'Whatever we need, our mission is now
pumpkin tamales!'
'Mission, si.' Manuel nodded. 'In the Mission Dolores district, we could find all we need.'
'Is it far?' Em enquired.
'No, no...'Rosa stood, dusting flour from her hands. 'I'm sure we can find what we need near here.' She pointed across the park. 'I saw some chilies and herb sellers just over there.' She gathered her bags. 'Come, Manuel. You know what we're looking for.'
'I'll wait here, if you don't mind,' Emmeline stayed seated. 'I'm a bit tired of walking. I promise I shan't stray, Manuel!'
He stood, looking undecided, then Rosa took his arm, steering him away. 'We shall return successful!' And, at last, just like that, Em found herself alone in public. A rarity indeed!
                                . . . .
Emmeline lay her head against the back of the bench, luxuriating in her now-found freedom, however illusory. She momentarily closed her eyes, feeling the sun warm her face and listening to the sounds of the busy mercado...suddenly she felt the wooden bench shift as someone sat beside her. She opened her eyes and stared into Jack's familiar blue-grey gaze.
She sat up, but before she could utter a sound, he put a finger to his lips. 'Em, don't worry. I'm just paying a...brief social visit.' He spread his hands, as if displaying his innocence.
Emmeline looked about, hoping that Manuel was occupied elsewhere for the nonce. 'You're taking an awful chance, Jack!'
Jack simply leaned back against the bench. He seemed casual and unruffled as could be. 'Not to worry. Manuel and Rosa will be busy awhile...' He nodded across the park to where a small band of musicians began playing and Em noticed her two companeros were engrossed in the musica.
Emmeline and Jack looked at one another. Neither said a word. They then began to smile, and Em laughed at last. 'I must admit it is good to see a friendly face, Jack.'
Jack nodded, acknowledging her cautious acceptance of his presence.
Still, he said nothing, merely smiled.
'Thank you all, for the note and...'
Jack held up a hand. 'Da nada,' he said at last.
'Well, it has been...quite the year, already.'Emmeline sighed. 'I never know what to expect from one day to the next...it hasn't been easy. But, I wish to know what Daryl is up to, Jack.' She regarded him earnestly. 'Already I've discovered some intriguing information...if it is actually true...'
Jack looked at her with a slight frown now. But made no move or protest. Emmeline found this absolutely astonishing. She thought he would leap upon any and all information regarding her and Daryl.
She cleared her throat and continued:
'He claims to have researched our family lineage; yours, and mine, Jack. In depth.'
Jack looked away then, sighed softly. 'I don't doubt it.' He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Manuel and Rosa were heading for the carriage, Manuel with an armload of small calabasas.
Em's gaze followed his. 'It's fascinating,in its' way, truly, Jack. I do wish I could speak with you regarding it all...?' She looked at him inquiringly.
'Not just yet, Em.' His response she found oddly disappointing. It wasn't like Jack to be so, unconcerned. He smiled at her. 'But, soon perhaps.' He took her hand then, and placed a soft kiss upon her fingers, and stood. 'I must go. It was a mad chance I took coming here. Yeats would have my hide.' He grinned that familiar sideways smile, the old Jack showed through then. 'I had to see you though, Em. Make sure you're alright.' He patted her hand in brotherly fashion, and looked up to see Manuel and Rosa heading back their way. 'Must run, cara. Adiosa, for now.'
'Hasta luego, Jack?' Emmeline felt bereft, suddenly.
He turned back, smiled and nodded, then disappeared into the crowd.
                                   . . . .
The night found Jack returned to Crowley House, his taboo tableau
with Emmeline successfully undetected, and was now, as usual, pacing about his practice room, trying to marshall his energies toward fighting forms. But his mind raced like a loco caballo, galloping over the hills and coming ever to rest upon the City, so close, yet so far, and Emmeline there with Daryl, for whatever purpose; she was under his trust, and at his none too tender mercies...Lord and Lady, but it was a bitter truth to swallow...
he frowned into the darkness. She found Daryl 'fascinating'.
Peachy.
 O, dammit man...she'd been Shanghai'd; poor girl.
And only by Van Horns. He looked up and begged forgiveness from his ancestors both past and future, for his impulsive rescues miscontrued.
Jack sighed hard and came to the window, leaned on the sill and bowed his head. He gazed outside, watching Aleister and Dylan play fetch at the end of the dusky dying day. He couldn't shake the feeling that Emmeline should be here, too...if not living here, then at least within...reach. She was part of their little family, he felt, the only one he had left; as they were hers.
He smiled as Dylan made a wild leap for the stick, twisting himself into a pretzel, falling over, and scrambling for the prize as Al
laughed heartily. Em would so love Dylan, he knew...he longed to recount the tale of Alice the Bear Warrior to her, and to hear all her stories as well.
Yeats was off on one of his mystery trips, but had made it clear that Jack was to back off from this one, and he had been uber serious this time. Jack had dared make the Timeleap to the park only because his madness had reached a peak and he couldn't help himself;especially after hearing Casey's recounting of the beauteous library lady and how chuffed he was to have pulled off his secret agent errand with book and note...
Jack ran a hand through his tangled locks, getting long again, and admitted defeat. He hadn't the focus for practice at the moment. He'd gotten away with his meeting with Em, and was determined to play safe now, and bide his time, leaving further tactics to Yeats...though it gnawed at his solar plexus thinking of Emmeline living under the same roof as Daryl. His jaw clenched. Best not think of it...
Soon, he told himself. If he just kept a cool head, perhaps, with Yeats's assistance, they could all meet with Emmeline and discuss the situation, calmly, and without causing suspicion  or upset.
Steady on, Jack. You'll get there. He put a hand against his knotted stomach muscles, thinking: right...if he didn't get an ulcer first...
                              . . . .
Later that same evening, Emmeline pled her case for early retirement and sighed in relief as she could close her bedroom door at last and have time alone with her thoughts.
Seeing Jack, she had to concede, had been the highlight of her day.
(That and Rosa's pumpkin tamales! Such a delight to the tongue!
She stayed to help in the kitchen as much as Rosa would allow and could replicate the receta, she was sure...)
She propped her pillows against the headboard and lay awake ruminating awhile...Jack would have loved those tamales...
Calabasas already...where had the year gone? It would soon be September. She thought of Solstice tamales soon come December. Could she reconcile herself to staying here at Casa del Secretos
that long? What would she tell her sister Amelie? She had to get to work on discovering Daryl's plans and the reasons behind them.
He hadn't approached her regarding the artefact, or even so much as mentioned it. Could it possibly have been be a ruse, simply to abduct her here? And why? She rubbed her forehead, trying to ease her frown. Diosa, but speculation without facts drove her barmy...Sherlock Holmes was right about that.
Well, Daryl, she had to admit, had only acted the part of her warden thus far. She refused to name him 'benefactor' as his giving --so to speak--had in her eyes, amounted only to piles of outrage and offense.  But, aside from the abduction, he had acted the
suave and proper gentleman, Don Diego; who would introduce her as his ward.
He seemed to be oddly forthcoming only with puzzle bits which Em could not piece together as yet. Which was why she had hoped to talk to Jack, or even Yeats, regarding it all.
Em sighed, gazing at the strands of dark crimson against the indigo sky above the porphyry hills, slowly being claimed by twilight and fog approaching together, twin heralds of the evening.
Yes, it had been a fine thing to see Jack...looking fine as well she smiled to herself. Could it be, she missed him now?
She pensively brushed her nubby chenile bedspread...Jack had seemed...what was it, exactly? He was polite. Quiet. Reserved. Yes, that was what was different. Perhaps it was only their time apart which had caused him to act thus.But in her mind, she could almost hear Alice's voice saying to her: 'What do you expect, my dear? You ran from the man who only offered you sanctuary and solid assistance.' He hadn't been chasing her...and it had been she who had kissed him...Emmeline touched a finger to her lips, closing her eyes. Such a wild and hurried night it had been, when she fled with the Guevaras into the unknown with avenging desperados and the law on their tails...
It had seemed so long ago. Em opened her eyes then, her hand fell beside her. Of course. Oh, Emmeline, you fool. Of course it was long ago...Jack had offered his all, and you had refused it and ran. He was only a man, after all, and not a saint. Em fell over upon the bed, onto her side. He's found someone else by now. Of course...diosa, what an idiota she was.
Well, Em: you got what you wanted, then, didn't you? You just wanted to be free. She sighed. She was free of Jack, but not the Van Horns, entirely, she told herself with a wry sideways smile.
Get a grip, girl. What did you expect, indeed? That Jack would be waiting for you, forever? And do you really wish for that?
Caramba. She felt like slapping herself. How contrary was the human heart. When pursued, she wished only to flee. But now that Jack is reserved and aloof, she now felt frustrated by his distance. It is entirely my problem and not his, she decided. And there are much larger issues to be dealt with besides my wounded little ego, Em scolded herself, wiping unbidden tears away. She'd just gone abit loco momentarily, she lectured herself. And as she lay there alone in the Casa del Secretos, night closed in upon her and sleep stole her worries away for a time, into suenas of sweet tamales...
                           . . . .
 Tamales de Calabasa
receta soon to come...