Jose had mentioned the day before that if I wanted we could go to see Guatemala everywhere, but we had to wait for my ring, which we recovered the next day. Jose went out yet again that evening, but I stayed home. His old aunt that had never been married, came to my room with a liquor bottle! She said, “I keep this for medicinal reasons.”
I was thrilled that I did not have to go out to hunt down some liquor store, let alone to get something to drink. I couldn’t stand being without alcohol, especially being under so much stress. So I definitely wanted a drink or two…or more. Jajaja!
Ludmila back home in L.A. walking with a cane
The next morning after breakfast, we were not talking at the table– no one cared to ask me anything. So I packed a few things and we took off on the big Kawasaki Ltd 1000 motorcycle that I bought for him. We went to the beautiful countryside en route to Lake Atitlan, stopping by the river and at the homes of some of Jose’s friends. As we rode through the indescribable beauty of rural Guatemala, there were flowers everywhere, pine trees, rivers with little waterfalls and the smell of smoke from the wood fires in the valleys and hills. Then suddenly, we slid and tumbled over, and I found myself underneath this big motorcycle with the motor still running, and it was hot… it was very hot.
Jose was screaming “Stay still, don’t move!” while trying to lift the bike, but of course he couldn’t and I couldn’t move at all! Finally some people came passing by in cars and one of them stopped to help him lift the big motorcycle off of me. It seemed to take forever, with me lying under the burning hot motor, the bike crushing down on my whole left leg. I can’t remember much, but later they said they took us immediately to the nearby clinic in the village of San Lucas Toliman to see if any doctor was available.
Well the only thing I know was that I was in excruciating pain. So I numbed by alcohol and with the drugs to, and layed in bed at the house of La Negra Maldonado, in her family hacienda with a coffee plantation. That delicious smell was my companion as I was healing.
Dancing with Walter in Caracas to “It Was Fascination I know”
Jose was in the next room, laughing and smoking pot, and many other people were there. I barely could move, but slowly I was helped up to the living room, where not one was interested in my problems. They were so high including Jose who was busy making eyes at La Negra, and the gays were making passes at him. Wow what a group of weirdos! But there was one guy that looked half elegant with a little class, and he had a big new van like a Jeep and was proposing something. I felt like I didn’t belong there with the gays and dropout drug users and la Negra making passes at Jose– this was not exactly a happy situation for me.
Well as always, I made the best of the worst! I heard one guy saying something about the beach and my ears perked up: The beach, yes! I needed to get out of this cold house in the mountains where we were. So when one of the boys said, “Lets go to the beach!” I was all for it. The pain was still bad, and although nothing was broken my whole leg was swollen like a big balloon. Some of the muscles were torn and muscle trauma had appeared, enough to make me scream with pain. So everybody was giving me pills and of course la Negra give me more stuff and aguardiente (alcohol), wowweee!
We took off to the beach; all the way there I wanted to drink more aguardiente until I reached oblivion. I drank enough for me to not remember the countryside, which was totally different than the one we drove from, justs that it was hot, tropical, and there was a smell of iron from the sea. The beach air was inviting, warm and nice. I don’t remember too much of the scenery as we arrived. Jose with the three other guys went into a fantastic looking hotel which I supposed was to get a room for us. I just sat by a fishing boat and waited.
Next thing I knew, I awoke with a cut on my forehead, inside the same boat. I remember sitting there, now inside of it, alone with no one there. Shortly Jose arrived and said something to his friends, “Look, she’s hurt, blood on her forehead.” I thought to myself that meant he left me alone and was with his male lovers in this luxurious hotel, which I didn’t even see inside. I just wanted to go back to beautiful Atitlan.
I did not speak to him the whole way back, until we arrived two or three hours later. No one cared to even talk to Jose, they all seemed tired. If he had any dignity or concern for me he surenhid it from me, but probably not from himself.
I was in no shape to argue or judge anyone. I justed wanted to be free from the pain and to be able to walk again. I went into the house with a mayan servant who helped me carry my things into a graceful, lovely small hacienda pueblo ranch home of the Maldonado family. It was in the middle of San Lucas Toliman in Atitlan, where the Indian women wore traditional clothes. They carried their babies on their backs, and did not dare look into anyone’s eyes. We couldn’t take pictures of them because they believed we’d steal their souls, and it would be captured inside the camera.
I arrived at the hacienda ranch with the realization that this was her home. She was waiting for our return anxiously and she greeted me with a present. It was some kind of coins, maybe witchcraft– who knows? They carried me into the bed, where they were smoking weed all the time and she was always high on pot or something else. She was obviously enchanted with Jose. He was tall, blond, slim and always very charming.
The servant handed me a cane, so I could get to the bathroom or go to sit up for a moment, which was almost impossible, I had to lie down almost all the time, even inside the cars. Including the trip to the beach we went to at Lake Elizabeth. It was impossible to sit comfortably, so painful that I could scream. I lay in bed almost all the time. The local doctor said not to walk for a couple of days.
In the meantime, Jose and his friends went to parties and picnics, and as it turned out, the romance between Jose and La Negra had already started.
Incredibly, in this part of the world, I heard a song from My Fair Lady on the radio. It was “Fascination” I know! My goodness, tears were rolling down my cheeks, with my eyes closed and even now remembering dancing to that melody so many times with Walter, to that same music! It was so vivid, because it was one of our favorite songs. The last time I spoke to him was in Sausalito, near San Francisco, in the “No Name Bar” where he said he still loved me. That was last time we spoke in person, kissed and loved each other. It felt so long ago. I guess it must have been, years were passing. I had heard he moved to Hawaii and was still a rich, successful man, now an ice cream and coffee merchant.
It was like the wind carried all our promises away, on the lips of cocaine and alcohol. Any promise seemed real, whether to the one who lies or the one who wants to believe them. Sure, we would believe everything. I did for many years…ten years or so. All promises “el aire se las llevo” (the air took them). With almost anything, to get what or who we want, if it feels good and looks great at that moment when we are high…then we will say goodbye.
Read Full Post »
The Ludmila Confessions 