Berto's Roses
By Ben
Part L
Nathan told me he was going to get Haley on the phone and try and persuade her that she didn't really want to give me a hard time about giving up her claim to Bob's property in Santa Rosalia. I headed downstairs to talk to Randy and Wade.
They were just finishing up in the kitchen when I found them. "Thanks, guys. That was really above and beyond the call of duty. I appreciate it. I am so sorry that all of this is happening right when you came here for your vacation. What are your plans for the future? I mean, now that you have finished school?"
"Well," drawled Wade, as he sprawled in a chair at the table. "We ain't made no plans just yet. Me and Randy was goin' to talk about that while we was here on vacation."
"I know one thing for sure, though." Randy added. "I ain't about to go back to Louisiana and work at that shit-hole of a hotel no more."
"It didn't look that bad to me." I said. "It wasn't new, but my room was nice."
"That's cuz you had the best room in the house." Explained Randy. Wade nodded his agreement.
"What about your Mother? Won't she need you to be there? I asked.
"Naw, she has herself a boyfriend. He treats her real good and he's nice enough, I reckon. I could tell he didn't really want me around that much, though."
I turned to Wade. "What about you?"
"I ain't any more anxious to go back home than Randy is. I'd like to start off some place new."
That's exactly what I wanted to hear. "Well, then, let me give you guys something to think about. I still want to make a go of this place, but with Bob gone, I'm not sure I could handle the day to day running of things. He had all the business know-how."
"I also need somebody who can run the kitchen. I can hire somebody to do the cleaning and room set up, but you guys seem to be just what I need here. I'd like you to consider staying here. If things work out and you like it here, maybe we can talk about a partnership, later on."
Wade and Randy exchanged shrewd looks. It was obvious to me that they had already talked about this possibility together. Randy said, "Me and Wade have been studying on just that very thing. We need work. You need workers. We would rather work with somebody we know and like. And we both like you a lot."
"Thanks guys, I like you a lot, too. So, you're in?" I asked, hopefully.
Wade and Randy nodded. "Yeah, I guess we are."
I was so excited. I shook both of their hands and gave them both a hug. I ran upstairs to give Nathan the news. He was equally satisfied with the arrangement and even liked the idea of a possible future partnership with the two men from Louisiana. We were interrupted by the sound of Berto's voice calling up the stairs to me.
"Senor Ben! Senor Ben? Where are you?" He called excitedly.
I met him on the second floor. His face was flushed but held some of the old animation in his eyes that was there before the plane crash. "What is it. Berto? What's happened?"
"He has been found, Senor Ben! They found him on the beach. He is muy infermo, but he was still alive!"
"Who is alive, Berto?" I asked him.
"Jose! Enrique's esposo. He is at the hospital in Santa Rosalia. Maybe this means that Mama will be found, and Senor Bob, and Don Chavez!" Berto speculated excitedly.
"Whoa, slow down a minute." I said. "Jose has been found and he is alive?" I wanted to be sure I understood him.
"Si! Enrique and Carla went to be with him. They sent me back here with Paco to tell you about it."
"Let's go!" I said. "I'll tell Randy and Wade where we are going on the way out."
I let Berto drive the truck to the hospital because he knew where he was going and he drove faster than I did anyway. Paco had driven Ricky's limousine back and it was parked prominently out front of the low adobe building when Berto brought the truck to a skidding stop beside it.
We hurried inside and saw Carla pacing back and forth in a long, narrow waiting room. She looked up as Berto and I hurried in. "How is he?" I began.
"He is still unconscious and has some cuts on his shoulders and back, and a few broken bones. That is all I know. I think he has some problems from being in the water so long as well. Enrique is with now."
"Where did they find him, and how did Ricky find out about it?"
"He was found on the beach, south of town. Some of the local fisherman found him and brought him to the hospital. We heard about it when we were talking to Berto's cousin and aunt. We didn't know who it was until we got here. " Explained Carla.
"Uh...has anything of anybody else been found?" I quietly asked Carla, trying not to let Berto hear my question.
She shook her head. "No, nothing yet, but the search has been continued since Jose was found. He was found many miles from where they thought the plane went down. He is a very strong swimmer, and even though he was injured he managed to make his way to shore."
"Hmm," I speculated. "I really don't know what Bob or Mack's swimming abilities are or were, but neither one of them was in the best physical condition. "
"Papa was not a swimmer and I suspect Manuella was not either. I have not asked Berto about that. He is holding out hope that she will be found as well, but I don't think we will find the others alive." Carla looked into my eyes.
" Oh Carla, you never know. It's possible." I hugged her to me.
"I do not think so, Ben." Carla said into my shoulder.
We waited for what seemed like and eternity. Ricky finally came out with a worried expression on his face. Carla, Berto and I jumped to our feet and ran to him asking questions all at the same time. Ricky sat us all down and began to speak.
"They have stopped the bleeding and have stitched up the worst of Jose's cuts. He has a broken arm and they fear he may have damage to his head and neck, but the x-rays did not show this. He has swallowed much seawater, so his stomach has been pumped and the doctors are giving him antibiotics. He is not awake yet, so it is just a matter of waiting."
He paused for a moment and then asked. "Carla, have you heard anything from the search?"
"No, nothing yet. May I go and see Jose?"
"Si, of course. All of you. Come." Ricky led the way down the hall and around a corner. He was treated with much courtesy by the hospital staff. I was later to find out the Ricky's father, Don Chavez, was responsible for building the hospital and instrumental in attracting quality medical staff to it.
Jose lay on the hospital bed in the middle of a large, well-lighted, private room. He was attached to an IV tube and a heart monitor although he was breathing on his own. His handsome face appeared to be uninjured, although bandages covered a large portion of his exposed torso, and his left arm bore a white cast.
Carla stood on tiptoe and bent to kiss his forehead. I was encouraged by his color. He didn't have the ashy complexion of the near dead that I had seen before. Bob had looked that way when I first saw him in Santa Rosali, but he was beginning to look much better before he left for Mexico City the night of the party.
Berto silently looked at Jose then walked to the window and stared in the direction of the gulf. I took Jose's strong beautiful hand in mine and touched his forehead with my other hand. He felt warm, but not feverish. He was breathing easily. I took this for a good sign.
It was getting late in the day and I was getting hungry. I suspected the others were, too. Santa Rosalia had no fast-food restaurants, so I suggested we all go back to the casa and get something to eat. Ricky, as I expected, would not leave Jose's side, so I told him I would bring something back to him.
We left the limousine for Ricky and Carla and I rode in the truck while Berto drove. Randy must have read our minds telepathically because he was putting the finishing touches on a late afternoon meal when we arrived. He didn't have the same menu as Manuella (decidedly more American and less Mexican) but he used lots of fresh vegetables and everything was delicious.
The tone was much less somber because of the good news about Jose. Berto was quiet and thoughtful. I knew he was hoping that his mother would be found as Jose had been. Carla called for updates of the continued search, but there had been no change. The crash had taken place more that five miles from the shore. It had been a miracle that Jose had survived the swim through the storm, especially with a broken arm. It didn't seem likely the others would be found.
Berto sat near me, and he hadn't strayed too far throughout the day. I suggested that we tend to the garden while we waited for news. He readily agreed. I explained what the storm had done to his roses. I had had to cut the bare hips from the stems and it had left the garden looking desolate. I apologized to Berto for the appearance of his beloved roses.
Berto stooped into his "duck walk" position and closely examined the first bush he came to. "Look here, Senor Ben." Berto grabbed my hand and pulled me down to him. He showed me the beginnings of brand new, very bright green foliage on the bush.
"You think they will be alright, Berto?" I asked hopefully. "I didn't kill them?"
"Oh, no. The will be just fine, Senor Ben. You did just as you should have. They will be blooming again soon." He duck walked down the row quickly as he had no pruning to do. He pulled a weed here, examined a bush there. Altogether, he seemed quite pleased. "Ah, look at this!" He pointed.
There, in his hand, was a single, tight white rosebud. It was the most beautiful sight I could imagine. It was a sign of new growth, of healing, of a bright and colorful future, which followed a period of painful mourning. At that moment, I knew that the search for the others would yield no further good news. No other survivors would be found, if indeed, the wreckage were found at all.
Berto seemed to sense this too. I watched his face and saw a single tear spill from his eye and slide slowly down his cheek. He turned his face toward me and smiled. It wasn't his bright sunny Berto smile. It was more of "I am ready to let go" smile.
Berto stood and reached for my hand. He pulled me to my feet and started walking, leading me, to the break in the adobe wall that led to the beach. He paused at the sand to kick off his shoes and I did likewise. He led me down to the water's edge and we waded in the quiet surf. Neither of us spoke as we walked and listened to the waves and the distant gulls calling.
We walked slowly. I released Berto's hand and pulled his left shoulder to the right side of my chest, then put my right arm across his shoulders. He responded to this by wrapping his left arm around my waist and hooking his left thumb into my belt loop. He turned his face toward me with an expression of "is that okay?" I smiled reassuringly at him and we continued our walk.
At some point, by silent mutual agreement, we stopped and turned toward one another. Our arms automatically circled each other's torso and I cradled his head to my chest. We held each other and the seawater splashed our calves. The sun was setting, turning the sky a bright pinkish-orange. Berto lifted his head and turned his face up toward mine.
I looked down into his beautiful young face. His dark eyes searched my own as he looked deep within my soul. He knew! He knew I loved him! I saw it in his face. I saw it in his full sensuous lips, slightly parted and ready to be kissed. Berto closed his eyes. I so wanted to feel his mouth on mine, to explore his tongue with my own. I reached up and held his head in my hands. I lowered my face to his and kissed him.
Only I did not kiss his lips. I pressed my lips to his forehead. I could not bring myself to exploit his vulnerability. Not then. As much as I wanted to. He was too sweet, too innocent for that. I loved him too much to take advantage of him. If, after he had time to heal, he came to me again. I would not hesitate. But not then, not yet.
Berto opened his eyes and looked at me. His expression silently questioned me. I hugged him to me and whispered into his ear, "We need to start back. It will be dark soon and the others might worry." Berto nodded and broke our embrace. He began slowly walking toward the casa. I caught up to him and slipped my hand into his. He looked up at me with a slightly surprised face. He looked down at my hand, smiled and gripped it a little more firmly.
I want to thank you all who are my loyal fans. I get the most encouraging messages from you and I cannot begin to express how much I appreciate it. You guys are the best. You keep reading and sending those messages and I'll keep the story going, okay? Don't forget, you can write to me at ben_sc@hotmail.com. Check out my other stories, under the "Authors" link. Look for "Lyle Benton".