Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: OVERSEAS VACATION (08/13/15)
- TITLE: Amancio Sanchez
By Trace Pezzali
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I hurry forward from the hotel steps with Felipe and Juan Pablo.
“Hola mi amigos, I am Amancio Sanchez.” My arms open the air in a wide arc. “Bienvenido a cañón del colca! You settle, then I take you bathe at La Calera Thermal Waters. Tonight, enjoy la músico at el restaurante. Tomorrow: Colca Canyon. Perhaps see Andean condor.”
I usher the group forward. Felipe and Juan Pablo carry luggage into reception. With the help of my wife, Renata, the guests are soon directed to their assigned rooms.
A young lady remains outside. She faces the sun, and the wind plays in her brown hair. I hurry down the few steps and she turns, her dark penetrating eyes locking onto mine. I gasp at the tears that glisten on her cheeks.
I barely catch her words: “I’ve dreamed of being here.”
“Since I was nine.” She half-raises the hard-bound book clutched at her chest. “My mother describes this place in her journal. She was my age when she travelled Peru.” Her lips tremble. “I want her here with me. She’s dead now.”
“Lo Siento,” I murmur.
The girl wipes knuckles across both cheeks. A deep breath straightens her spine and shoulders.
“Come, por favor.” I bend and sling her backpack onto my shoulder. “How long you stay?”
“I don’t know. Something has to happen first.” A tremulous smile pretties her tan face, and with a burst of energy she charges ahead.
“Misterio,” I shake my head and follow.
At reception Renata hands the girl her room key. “Hola, you must be Sénorita Lucinda, last on my list. Ten minutos, Amancio take everyone to thermal waters. Nice and warm. You unwind from travel.”
“No, thank you. I’ll stay here… The two who helped with the luggage, are they your boys?”
Renata drops her eyes, and I quickly answer, “The Lord has not blessed us yet with children, Sénorita. Let me show you to your room.” Her backpack still on my shoulder, I lead the way up the stairs to the second floor. At her door, I step aside. “Tonight, Huayno músico during dinner. I play pan flute.”
Lucinda’s hand flies to her chest, fingers spreading against her breastbone. “Do you? Have you played for a long time?”
“Since un chico. I work here as el musico. I also learn hotel. Now I own Hotel de Andes de oro!”
This arresting girl stands before me. She doesn’t move, and she will not release me with her eyes. There is something familiar about her that troubles me. I don’t know why my heart is hammering. “What… what brings you to Chivay?”
“I come to meet my father for the first time. He is native to this village.”
Now my mouth is dry. I swallow hard. “Perhaps I know him. Who is he?”
“Amancio Sanchez, you are my father.”
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