Pearls Read Free Page A

librarian on that level greeted her with a smile.
    “Isabel, cómo estás ?”
    “ Muy bien ,” Isabel answered. “May I have my books?”
    When Isabel had explained she would be using the reference books on a daily basis, the woman had graciously agreed to keep them near the reference desk for the duration of her project. Isabel retrieved the heavy tomes and hurried to a quiet corner of the room, unable to contain her curiosity. Now familiar with some of the older phrasing, she translated more quickly than she had the night before.
     
June 6th, 1505
I returned to the hut today, unsure if I would find her there. Nevertheless, I carried with me a blanket, rations of dried meat, and a small loaf of bread—items intended to make her more comfortable if she chose to remain in my care. I felt both surprise and relief to find her sitting in the center of the hut when I stepped into the doorway. My sudden presence startled her, and she moved warily toward the corner, eyeing me with fear.
I smiled and said hello, but my good humor did not alleviate her apprehension. Her dark, watchful eyes remained fixed on me, her body tensed as if preparing to flee at the first sign of danger. I knelt in the doorway, hoping to appear less threatening by lowering myself to her level. Moving slowly, I extended my arms, offering her the gifts I’d brought. She glanced at the package but refused to move toward me to accept it. Sighing, I set it on the floor and went to forage for more fruit in the surrounding trees. I could not be sure when I would return, and I wanted to ensure an ample food supply for her. Though I knew she could retrieve the fruit herself—perhaps with more skill than I—doing it for her gave me pleasure.
When I returned, she sat with the blanket in her lap, examining the meat and bread I’d brought. As my shadow fell across the doorway, she glanced up, her eyes focusing for a moment on the fruit I held in my hands. Her gaze rose to meet mine, and I saw the questions in her eyes. Why? Why was I doing all of this for her? Why had I not abused her as the other men surely had?
I offered her no answers. I could not put into words the forces that drove me to act as I did. Even if I could, she would not understand me, for only a few Indians have learned enough Spanish to communicate.
I set the fruit near the door and bade her farewell with a smile.
 
June 7th, 1505
I worked long and hard today, and if I had adhered to my logical nature, I would not have made the arduous trek to the hut. Yet my feet had a will of their own, and I found I could not resist the urge to see her.
My arrival was met with less apprehension than before. She must have heard my approach, because as I neared the hut, she appeared in the doorway. Her expression did not hold fear as before, nor did she welcome me. Her steady, probing gaze suggested I was a curiosity to her, a puzzling specimen she struggled to understand.
Moving slowly, I drew near, stopping only a few feet away from her. When she did not startle or protest, I felt a sense of accomplishment, though I don’t know why it mattered so much. I offered her the gifts I’d brought: a small knife for cutting fruit or fish, and a basket, woven from the branches of the palms growing in abundance on the island. On a whim, I’d stopped to pick a few tropical flowers from the trees and vines along the path to her hut, so the basket spilled over with fragrant and colorful blossoms.
The gift seemed to please her, though I cannot say how I knew this. She does not smile or show emotion in the way of other women I’ve known. But I do not expect her to react to me as to an old friend. We are strangers, brought together by nightmarish circumstances.
Tired from the long day, I decided to rest a spell before I returned to the navy’s base. I walked to a fallen palm a few yards away and sat upon its trunk, enjoying the moment of respite at the end of a busy day. She watched me for several minutes before