towards 44 Cherry Street
All Lorraine could think about were the poor dogs in the US who were quarantined with their neurotic owners because of the Corona Virus. There wasn’t a solid block of time in their days when they were left in peace to sneak up on the couch to sleep or weren’t being dragged back out on the street for another pointless walk. She had to rescue these poor animals in memory of her dear Suki who had passed over the rainbow bridge not long before she left Black Mountain. She had heard that there had even been cases of dogs coming down with the virus, and they needed to be rescued. Sure her life in the hacienda of El Chapo was luxurious, but Lorraine was made of tougher stuff. She wanted to get back in the trenches where she was needed back in the USA.
She put down her Margarita on the tiny glass side table beside the pool, and struggled to pull herself up from the chaise lounge. In part it was because of the weight she had packed on, but also because she had been drinking in the sun all morning. She staggered into the room where she had been staying in the mansion to pack her clothes, but couldn’t find her matched set of Louis Vuitton luggage. The last time she had seen those bags was when she and Chappie had gone to El Dorado Royale Resort before the virus had gotten so wide-spread. She couldn’t ask Chappie where they might be because he was away yet again on another business trip. The man was such a workaholic! And her Spanish was still not very good. But still, she needed to pack up and get a limousine ride to the airport.
Lorraine went in search of the maids to see if they could help her, but as usual they were hiding in the kitchen and didn’t respond when she called them with a cheerful, “You-who!” When she entered the kitchen she thought the cluster of maids at work there might be giving her dirty looks, but that was impossible. They loved her! She asked them in her limited Spanish, “Donde estan my….” but she couldn’t remember the word for suitcase. She put on a little skit to illustrate what she was looking for, miming packing a suitcase and carrying it by the handle, but they looked at her blankly. What was wrong with these people? She tried again, but this time she acted like the suitcase was so heavy that she could hardly lift it. One of the maids smiled and nodded her head. (At last!)
“No se nada,” she said, shrugging.
Lorraine guessed she had said no. Maybe she would have to wait for Chappie’s return, but what if he didn’t want her to leave? She hated to break his heart, but the dogs of America needed her. She realized she had better make a clean break before he returned, even without her suitcases. “Donde esta the ….” what was the word for limousine? Once again she had to mime driving a car. The maids looked at each other and laughed. They tried to explain in Spanish, but Lorraine couldn’t understand what they were saying. Finally one of them mimed bye-bye, and they all laughed again. Bitches!
Lorraine was in a quandry! She had no suitcases and no car to take her to the airport, but she was determined! She went back to her bedroom and flung open the closet doors, admiring the array of colorful clothes she had acquired since she had put on weight and outgrown the Eileen Fisher wardrobe that she had come with back in November. She chose ten of her favorite dresses and laid them out on the bed. From the ten, she selected her favorite six and put them on one on top of the other. Even though it definitely made her look fat (fatter), she would have to make the best of this bad situation. She put on her sturdiest shoes, but even these were not that stout. She had very narrow feet after all, and the only maker whose shoes she could wear were Stuart Weizmans. The most comfortable pair had a low heel which would make her journey easier, but she hoped she would pick up a ride soon, because those kitten heels would be murder on the jungle floor.. She found her old Vuitton handbag in the back of the closet, and packed it with what she found in the mini bar in her room: two bags of potato chips, a few limes, and a bottle of Tequila. Bueno.
She had been blindfolded when she was brought here, so she was not too sure which direction to go to find her way back home, but she would chart her course by the sun. She was quite scientific. She hiked through the jungle, always conscious of stepping on a snake or a spider (she was terrified of spiders), and at least reached a deserted road. She stood by the side of the road for some time, sipping the tequila and sucking on a lime, when a cart pulled by a donkey rolled up. She stuck her thumb out in the international signal for “I need a ride”, and the cart stopped. She was on her way!!
