Rapture's Rendezvous

Ruby closed the door then moved across the softness of a beige woolen carpet. “ I see you arc surprised to see how I live,” she said, reaching for a long, thin cigar. When she placed it between her lips, Maria's fingers went to her throat, struck with amazement. She had already been stunned by the crudencss of some of the words Ruby had chosen to speak. And … now? To smoke cigars … as only a man was normally wont to do?

Once again Maria s eyes took in the room and its decor. It was a room of gentle colors, as though meant to make one relax … to forget any troubles that might be burdening one. It was a room of beiges and pale greens in both the brocade draperies hanging at the windows and the many upholstered chairs and matching sofa positioned for comfort in front, and on both sides of the six-foot-wide-and-high brick fireplace.

Wide-leafed palm plants sat in each corner of the room, and a grandfather's clock stood ticking away against the wall, where steps began that led upward to the second floor.

Maria knew that this house, and all that was in it, had taken much money to make it so beautiful. But… how . . .?

“Come. Sit by the fire,” Ruby said, flicking ashes from her cigar into the flaming logs on the grate. She settled down onto a chair, with her back held straight, drawing from her cigar once again.

Maria pulled her shawl from around her shoulders, already feeling the warmth from the fire moving into her flesh, making her feel a bit languid. She went to sit opposite Ruby, clasping her hands tightly together on her lap.

Ruby removed the cigar fr

om between her lips, then leaned forward a bit. “Do I make you uncomfortable?” she asked in her slow drawl.

Maria swallowed hard, reaching up to push her hair back from her shoulders. “No,” she said. “And why should you?”

“I'm a Negro. Most white women turn their noses up into the air when a Negro approaches them, except if they are seeking one of my kind to do their dirty work for them. You know… cleaning… laundry… cooking. If this is needed, most white womenfolk can tolerate us. But that's the only reason they will confess to.”

“If you will notice, my skin is not white,” Maria said proudly, reaching up to run her fingers over the smoothness of a cheek.

“Yes. I noticed,” Ruby said, smiling. “I also noticed how fluently you speak the American language. Have you been in Nathan Hawkins's Italian community long?”

The way in which Ruby had referred to “Nathan Hawkins's Italian community” sent renewed sparks of hatred racing through Maria. Her eyes blazed, showing her anger, though she didn't feel free to speak of it to this Ruby who was still only a stranger to her. “I've been in America only one day,” she murmured. “My Papa taught me how to speak English while we were still in Italy.” She paused, then smiled. “My brother Alberto and I arrived by train yesterday to be with our Papa, who was already here.”

“Oh? A brother you say?”

“Yes. My twin,” Maria boasted, flipping her hair, lifting her chin.

“A twin,” Ruby drawled. “Hmm. Interesting. I've seen but only one set of twins during my lifetime.” Her eyes raked over Maria, glimmering. “And does your brother Alberto look exactly like you?”

“Yes. We have the same color of eyes, hair, and even a birthmark of the same size and shape. Our heights are also the same.” She paused, then added, “Yes, we are the same, except for personalities. Alberto has only recently changed.”

“In which way?”

Maria looked away from Ruby, chewing her lower lip. “He has suddenly acquired the pleasures of a card game, one he was taught how to participate in while we were on board that wretched ship that brought us to America,” she said sullenly. “It seems this game has captured his heart in almost the same way as a woman might one day succeed in doing.”

“The card game you speak of I'm sure is what we Americans call Poker,” Ruby said, laughing amusedly.

Maria's eyes flew upward. “So you do know about this .. . this evil game?”

Ruby rose from the chair and tossed her half-smoked cigar into the flames rising from the logs on the grate. She turned, standing with her back to the fire. “Yes. I'm very familiar with it,” she said, laughing still.

Maria was puzzled by the amusement Ruby found in the mention of the card game. But Maria was puzzled by everything about Ruby. She rose and began moving around the room, touching the smooth finish of the redwood tables that sat beside chairs in the room. Then something caught her eyes. She leaned down over a lamp, seeing that behind its shade there was no sign of a wick with which to light the lamp. Instead, there was a tiny, pear-shaped bulb made of a delicate-appearing luminous material. She reached inside and touched it. “What is this?” she gasped, feeling its cold smoothness.

Ruby moved to her side. “You've never seen an electric lightbulb?” she asked.

“Is this … ?”

Ruby laughed, then reached over and switched the light on, reflecting a bright ray of artificial sun upward onto Maria's face.

“Yes. One of the first in the area,” Ruby bragged, straightening her back. “Nathan Hawkins has the same in his house, and further down the road at Creal Springs it has become quite commonplace.”

“Then you must be one of the rich Americans, Ruby,” Maria said, reaching up inside the shade, marveling at the heat she could feel now radiating from the bulb.

Ruby threw her head back in another fit of laughter. “Not really,” she said. “Just calculating and very smart.”

Maria continued her exploration around the room. “I truly don't understand,” she said. “If Nathan Hawkins owns all the land in this area, how is it your house is … uh … so much nicer than the one I'm living in?”